“Oh, Rylee,” Mrs. Daniels says as I pass her.
A security guard moves to stand in front of the line, stopping me in my tracks with his hands outstretched in front of him so I can’t pass. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I need to see your ID and boarding pass.”
“But . . . I need to stop him,” I say, gasping for air.
“I’m afraid you can’t without an ID and a boarding pass.” He motions for me to move to the side.
No!
They have to let me get to him. He has to see me, feel that I’m standing right here.
“Rylee.” Soft hands grasp my shoulders and tug me to the side. My eyes don’t leave the line where I saw Clayton disappear, and I reluctantly let his mom pull me away.
I’m so close, but he feels a million miles away. I’m crying harder as I meet her gaze, tears also falling from her cheeks. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I cry out.
She nods and pulls me in for a hug. “I know, sweetie.” She shushes me.
She continues to hold me as the minutes tick by. As the tears finally cease, as I accept that he’s gone, and I’m all alone.
We walk in silence to my car. Her arm draped around my shoulder to hold me close. My body feels numb, like part of me is missing. I’ve honestly been feeling like this since the fight, but now it’s final. He’s gone, and I don’t know when I will be able to see him again.
“He needs to do this,” Mrs. Daniels says once we reach my car. “Would you like me to call your mom?”
I shake my head and unlock the door. I’m not sure if she was trying to bring me comfort or make this seem okay, but I don’t think his not being in my life will ever be okay.
“He’ll be back.” She tries to reassure me, but I’m not sure if she’s saying it more for me or for herself.
I know he’s close with his mom, so I know it’s hard for her to let him go. Part of me hopes he will be back soon, but the other part, the part he hurt all those weeks ago, that part wants to leave and get out of this town. That part doesn’t want to see him, no matter how much I miss him, because he didn’t try to say goodbye at the end. He was fine leaving me and didn’t look back.
She lets me pull away and drive home. As I go down my driveway, my mom stands on the porch, waiting for me, and I know Mrs. Daniels called her. She meets me halfway and wraps me in a hug, making more tears fall down my face. She continues to hold me, and I let myself mourn that friendship.
CLAYTON: THEN
Clayton: 18 years old
My thumb taps the side of my phone, looking at the red text on the screen. I have two missed calls from Rylee. I guess she got my note, but after all that time she gave me the cold shoulder, I’m nervous if she’s going to bite my head off or cry. I don’t have it in me for either of those things.
“Hey, man. Is anyone sitting here?”
My head snaps up at the voice as his shadow casts over me. “Uh, no. Go for it.” I scoot to the edge of the bench.
“Thanks.” He puts his bags on the concrete before sitting down. The buses and taxis park in front of us before picking up passengers and driving off. The travelers walking around seem to be on a mission to find their next destination, dragging their luggage and loved ones behind them. “Are you waiting to be picked up?”
I nod, not taking my eyes off my phone. I close my phone and rub my hands up my face, taking a long exhale.
“Seems like you have a lot on your mind.”
I narrow my eyes at the man next to me, finally taking him in. He’s a skinny guy with brown hair, and he sits withhis ankle crossed over his knee and an arm draped over the back of the bench. “You can say that.” He’s wearing a T-shirt that says Marines on the front, and I turn to face him. “You headed for boot camp too?”
His lips lift into a crooked smile. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”
I nod, looking at the ground as I realize I only just made the decision a few months ago, but as soon as I committed, it was the first time I knew I was doing the right thing. I hate how it’s hurt Rylee and my mom, but I know this is the path I need to take.
“How about you? Are you ready to leave your life behind and give it your all?” His tone has a challenge in it. He has to see I’m struggling with something.
I glance at my phone on the bench between us, and my mouth pinches into a frown.
“Want a little advice my dad gave me? He was a Marine.”
