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“We have a little over a week left. I don’t want to waste it.” His eyes close as he shakes his head ever so slightly. “I want to spend every second with you until you’re so sick of me that getting on that plane to Florence is a relief.”
The burn of tears threatens my eyes, but I force a smile on my face and shake my head when I realize the tears are coming regardless of how hard I try to fight them. “That won’t take a full week.”
King’s lips pull up into a smile at my joke, but his eyes are unfocused, reflecting the same emotion I’ve been experiencing since opening my acceptance letter: loss. He wraps his arms around me slowly as though he’s hesitant maybe from rejection, or because also like me, he knows this is the begi
The ring of a bicyclist is the only reason we eventually part. Otherwise, I think we would have tested how long we could both go without food or water. His jaw clenches and his eyes close, making my heart thunder and my eyes heat with tears. I understand what he’s feeling; I know it so well. It is as though we are made to be together and time keeps mocking us. It hurts. It hurts like hell.
“Let’s get some di
“I need to tell Mercedes.”
“She’ll understand.”
I nod sadly. I should be relieved that he’s ensuring she’ll be okay, yet, whether it’s for fear that she won’t or fear that she will, my eyes cloud with tears once again.
WE WALK into the house holding bags of takeout. I requested Chinese when King asked, thinking about Allie and what she had told me about food and the comfort it brings. Summer and Kash are already in the kitchen, looking over new images she’s taken.
“Where’s monkey?” King asks.
“In her room.” Kash looks to me as he answers, already knowing I’m late for this meeting.
I smile reproachfully and head down the hall.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorframe of her room.
Mercedes looks up, her long hair a curtain around the magazine she’s looking through. “King has a centerfold in here.”
My lips pull up in a smile and my feet lead me into the room with little thought.
I sit on the edge of her bed, and Mercedes sits up, tucking her feet under her so she’s nearly as tall as I am. “Are you going to tell me about your brother?”
I hadn’t intended to. Ever. “Do you want me to tell you about him?”
Mercedes stares at me for several seconds and then shrugs, but I see that she has questions before she asks, “Was he always so mean?”
My first response is to shrug in return, but I stop as my shoulders rise, and swallow. “Yeah, he has.”
“Does it bother you?”
I rub the length of my arm because I’m covered in chills from the thoughts she’s evoking. “At times.”
“How do you make it stop?”
“Stop what? Caring?”
Mercedes nods.
“I don’t know if I ever stopped caring. I just realized that his words were intended to make me feel as badly as he does, and I didn’t want to be miserable like him.”
“I’m sorry he’s such a jerk.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The fact that they don’t believe in me does nothing but fuel me to be better, push harder.”
“You’re an amazing artist, Lo.”
“And you’re an amazing person,” I say, inching my fingers forward and covering the back of her hand.
“I have something to tell you,” I begin.
“You got in.” Her eyes leave mine, inflicting a sharp pain to my chest. “I already know. I knew as soon as you submitted that you’d get in. So did you, remember? I was there when you got your passport picture.”
“I kind of hoped they’d turn me down.”
Mercedes shakes her head, but she still doesn’t look at me. “Don’t say that, Lo.”
“I’m coming back in September, though. Allie and Charleigh are both staying in the city, and I’ll stay with them when I return until I figure things out.”
She nods, sniffling as her fingers tighten into a fist below my hand.
“I wish I could take you with me.”
Mercedes launches herself at me, knocking me off balance so I’m sprawled across her bed with her on top of me, her narrow arms locked around the back of my neck. I wrap mine around her back as we both cry.
“Lo?” Mercedes asks in a shaky voice after both of us have calmed to the point we can breathe evenly again.
“Yeah?”
She shifts, lying her head on my shoulder and reaching for my newly freed hand. “You remember telling me we have to appreciate what we have?”
“Yeah…”
“You forgot to say, we have to realize what we have in order to appreciate it. I’m glad I have you, Lo.”
My nose tingles and my eyes burn from the quick return of tears. “I’m glad to have you too, Mercedes.” As my words dance across the sounds of our breaths, she snuggles closer to me, her hair tickling my face. I want so badly to brush it away, but I don’t. I wouldn’t move right now for the world.
“I HATE that you came,” I say against King’s shoulder.
“I’m not wasting a second. I told you that.”
“But this makes it so real.” I imagine few are watching us as we cling to one another outside of the TSA security gates, thinking they know and understand what’s happening. But they don’t. They don’t know King, and I’m positive they have no idea how impossible saying goodbye to him is.
“No less real than it would have been if we had said goodbye last night.”
We had a small party at Sonar to celebrate last night. Charleigh attended with her boyfriend, Brandon, and I was glad I had the opportunity to speak to him for a few minutes sans drama to learn that his love for Charleigh was just as deep as hers for him, possibly deeper. I understood before that moment why she had chosen to drop out of the fashion show, but seeing them together made falling asleep last night nearly impossible.
Allie was there along with Mia and Estella, Summer, Parker, a few students from my class, and even Kenzie. I spent most of my time with King and Mercedes, knowing that I would miss them the absolute most. But I had asked all of them not to come to the airport. The idea made it seem so final.
Tears are already skating down my cheeks from the far corners of my eyes, my throat tight. “Why couldn’t I have gone last summer?”
“Stop, Lo.” King’s hand between my shoulder blades presses me tighter to his chest. “I want you to go with the expectation of loving it, not hating it. It’s going to be hard, but we can do this.”
I nod, the wool of his plaid shirt scratching my face. I can’t make a verbal response without choking on my tears.
“Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to be okay, alright? We’ve got this.”
I nod again absently, fighting the cry about to break lose.
“I love you, Lo.” His voice is softer, pressed against my ear, playing through my head like a catchy tune. My fingers ache from squeezing the fabric of his shirt so tightly.
“I love you more.”
He shakes his head. “Not possible.”
“What are you guys doing today?”
King rolls his shoulders dismissively. “Summer has something pla
“Estella invited you guys to the restaurant for happy hour.”
King doesn’t say anything, just grips me tighter.
“You remember the name of the company you’re getting a ride from?”
“Yeah, it’s in my bag.”