She kissed my jaw. “I don’t sugarcoat. I tell it like it is.”
“Oh, do you really now?” I turned my head and kissed her, keeping it sweet and gentle since my ride would be calling any minute to let me know he was here.
She smiled up at me. “I know this is going to work out in the end, and so do you. We’ll skip the rest of the tears. Deal?”
I nodded slowly, smiling even though it fucking hurt. “Deal.”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I picked it up. “That’s my ride. I’ve gotta leave now.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and kissed me. “I’ll walk you out.”
I pushed off the bed and slid my phone into my pocket. “If you want to.”
“I do,” she said, sitting up and sliding her legs over the side of the bed. She wore a pair of short shorts and one of my tank tops. She slid her feet into flip-flops, yawned, and reached out for my hand. She clung to me tightly, and I had a feeling I did the same thing to her. “Let’s do this.”
We walked to the door in silence, her hand entwined with mine. As I opened the door, I had to let go so I could wheel out my luggage. She picked up my laptop bag and slung it over her shoulder, and I let her because I could tell she wanted to help.
And if that’s what it took to make her feel better, then so be it.
Carrie
I wanted to punch myself in the face right now. Anything to keep the tears at bay. I’d lectured myself so many times last night not to cry when he left, but it was getting harder and harder with each step we took toward him leaving. He didn’t need to see me panicking and blubbering as he walked away.
He needed to see me standing there—strong and steady and sure. When he left, I could break down, but not a second before.
I straightened my shoulders and thought of anything I could think of besides the fact that my heart was being ripped out of my chest. My upcoming flight home. The lasagna last night. The way he’d held me all night long as if he didn’t want to let go…
No. I shouldn’t think of that.
Bad idea.
I followed him out the door, staring straight ahead and not meeting him in the eye. If I looked at him and he looked sad, I’d lose it. A black government-looking vehicle sat by the curb, right behind my car, its hazard lights flashing. That must be the car that would take him away to…wherever he was going.
I wasn’t allowed to know. Stupid, stupid rules.
As we climbed down the stairs, each step felt heavier. Longer. Because each step we took would take us to that car that would spirit Finn away. I hated that freaking car with a passion. It represented everything I couldn’t deal with right now.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and Finn set his suitcase on its wheels, then reached for my hand. I clung to it, knowing it was the last time I’d be able to do so until next year. He was my person. My rock.
What was I going to do without him here?
“You hanging in there, Ginger?” he asked, watching me with a furrowed brow. “If you want to go back up, it might be easier. Saying goodbye is never easy.”
“It’s not goodbye,” I reminded him, smiling through the pain. “It’s see ya later.”
“Right,” he said, his voice coming out rough. Oh God, if he cracked, I’d freaking lose it. Like, the nuclear warfare level of losing it. “I knew that.”
We stopped at the side of the car and the trunk popped open. Finn wheeled his suitcase to the back and put it inside, then held his hand out for his laptop bag. I handed it off to him, our fingers brushing. He set the bag inside and shut the trunk with a clunk.
The sun was just starting to lighten the sky with tiny little tendrils of grayish-pink, and the birds around us were silent—still sleeping in their nests. It was just us and the guy in the car. And we…
We were out of time.
I held my arms open, and he closed me in his embrace, hugging me so tight he might have cracked a rib. I didn’t care. He could take the freaking thing with him as long as he came home safe and sound. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him hard, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t cry.
Not yet. Not now…
He pulled back and looked down at me, his bright blue eyes grave. Gone was the dancing blue eyes I loved so much. He looked sad, scared, and alone.
“Hey, none of that,” I said, using his own words back on him. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back, and it’ll be over before we know it.” I looked down at my hands on him, willing them to let go. To let him go. But my fists tightened on his shirt even as I told myself I had to do it. “Stay safe and write to me as much as possible, okay? And Skype if you can.”
“I promise,” he whispered, kissing me one last time. “See ya later, Ginger.”
I forced a smile and let go. As he walked away, I wrapped my arms around myself and smiled at him so big that my cheeks were about to fall off. When he got to the car and opened the door, he looked back at me one more time.
I widened my smile even more and called out, “Hey, look. The sun’s about to shine.”
“Yeah.” He looked up at the sky and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
With one last look at me, he got in the car and shut the door. The guy driving waited all of two-point-two seconds before he pulled away from the curb. A few seconds later, the car turned around the corner…and my Finn was gone.
As if in a trance, I turned around and walked back up the steps to his apartment. I’d go home later this morning, but right now I needed to be here. With him. Even if he wasn’t here, it still smelled like him and his stuff was here and I needed to be, too.
I walked inside, shut the door behind me, and walked to his bed, my eyes barely blinking. As I passed the closet, I bent over and picked up one of his dirty shirts from the floor. Finn never left dirty shirts laying around, so it was like a bonus find. I held it to my face, breathed in deeply, and fell back into the bed.
I rolled onto my side, but on his side of the bed because I swore I could feel him there, his shirt pressed to my face. He was gone. Actually, truly gone. What was I going to do without him here, teasing me and loving me?
And now that he was gone, I could finally break down and feel the things that had been trying to kill me since he told me he was leaving.
Fear. Anger. Resentment. Fear. Love. Sadness. Fear.
It all crashed down on me, hard and fast, and I burst into tears. The pain and numbness—yeah, I knew that didn’t make any sense—spread from my heart on out, slowly taking over my legs and arms. Even my fingers and my toes. I couldn’t feel anything except the absence of Finn, and the fear he wouldn’t come home.
I clung to Finn’s shirt as if it alone had the power to make me feel better. It didn’t. The only thing that would make me feel better was Finn, and he was gone. Just…gone.
What was I supposed to do with that?
21
A few days later, someone knocked on my dorm door, and I put my history book aside, climbed out of bed, and answered it. Marie wasn’t here, and I was catching up on some studying I’d been severely behind on lately. I had been missing Finn and crying myself to sleep.
It was the weekend, and I’d been dragging myself around with less than an hour of sleep per night for almost a week. Tonight I might break down and take a Nyquil or something that would knock me flat on my back. This no-sleep stuff was for the birds.
But first, I had to open the door.
I yawned, covering my mouth, and swung the door open. As soon as I could see who stood in the hallway, I cringed inwardly. It was Cory. He smiled at me and smoothed his light blue polo. “Hey, Carrie.”