I’ve known this day was coming for months. I knew it five months ago, when Max’s friends started hosting insane senior parties. I knew it on the last day of my first year of high school, when I watched him walk across the stage, accept a diploma, and, somehow, manage to find me in the sea of faces and wink.
I knew it was coming three months ago, when Max ended up hosting a huge end-of-year party for all of his friends. I never remember feeling so alone. He invited me to join—healwaysmakes a point of inviting me—but my dad prohibited me from going.
Dad was also out getting drunk that night, like he is tonight, so I didn’t listen. I managed to sneak into the big, fancy home Max lives in… only to find him with his tongue shoved so far down a girl’s throat, I’m amazed she didn’t vomit.
It hurt to see that; by then, I’d already developed a major crush on him, even though I’m sure he doesn’t see me as anything other than a nuisance. A little kid, the groundkeeper’s daughter, who happened to teach him how to read—and who he helps with math and science in return.
Today hurtsmuchmore than any thought of him leaving or seeing him kiss another girl.
Maximus has been my constant since I moved here—to a strange place with annoyingly rich peers. Every wealthy person I’ve met has treated me like I’m the dirt on their shoe… up until Max intervened. He’s protected me relentlessly.
I sit on the rickety porch’s sofa, a copy ofThe Three Musketeersclutched in my hands. My eyes sting with tears, because I know Max’s ride will be here soon, and then he’ll be gone.
He won’t join me for late nights on this porch anymore. Won’t sit with me as I wait to see if my dad will be drunk enough to need help getting into the house.
He won’t help me with my homework, and I won’t help him with his.
There will just be…nothing. The thought is devastating beyond belief.
I run the chewed edge of my thumbnail over the cover. I have mountains of homework waiting to be done—my high school has a big workload—but I can’t concentrate on anything other than my impending loss. Max is leaving any moment now. I said goodbye to him last night, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I have this stupid fantasyof him taking me with him—of him being the Prince Charming that pulls me away from my father’s toxic habits and into a healthier, brighter world.
But fantasies are just that; fantasies. Even if he weren’t way older than me and way out of my league, I’m not sure anything would change. We come from different worlds.
“Flame!”
At first, I think I’m hallucinating his voice. Then, I crane my head in his direction, and I see himsprintingdown the gravel road leading from my house to his. My heart speeds up, and my limbs turn jittery with a mixture of excitement and misery.
It takes him less than thirty seconds to get here. He jogs up the steps of the porch, cheeks flushed with exertion, eyes glittering.
“Where have you been?” he demands.
I frown. “What?”
“You didn’t come to say goodbye,” he accuses, sounding almost childish.
I blink, confused. “Did youwantme to?”
“Did I want you to,” he echoes, scoffing. “Get your ass over here, Flame.” He opens his arms.
I stand and dart into them, not strong enough to resist the comfort. It’s a nearly insurmountable effort to keep from bursting into tears, but I manage. I’m sure I’ll see him again—over the summers, when he comes to visit for holidays… it’s not like he’ll be completely gone, but itfeelsthat way right now. We see each other every day in passing, and we spend time together at least a couple times a week. Knowing that’s about to disappearsucks.
“I got you something,” he says, pulling back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dark, rectangular box. Ajewelrybox, I realize.
My eyebrows raise when he presents it to me. I take it hesitantly, crack it open, and then immediately shut it again—because the emotions washing over me at the single glimpse are just too much.
Max’s features crumple. “Oh, fuck. You hate it, don’t you? You—”
“No!” I say, a little too loudly. Swallowing, I manage to muster enough composure to open the box and look in it again.
The necklace that sits in the center of a dark cushion isbeautiful. It’s made of silver or white gold, in the shape of theSagittaconstellation. Each star is represented by small, glittering diamonds, like stars in the night’s sky. I try really,reallyhard not to cry, but it’s impossible. I’m going to miss this boyso much, I’m physically sick with it.
“Oh no—don’t cry. I’ll, uh, get you something else,” he says, sounding panicked. Embarrassing tears roll down my cheeks, betraying my emotions. Try as I do to stop them, I just can’t.
“It’s not—” I break off with a small sob “—the necklace. It’syou.”
“Me?”Max frowns, wrapping his hands around my arms. His eyes search mine. “What did I do?”
“You’re—”hiccup, “leaving.” I shake my head. “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. It’s just…”You’re the only person who’s been kind to me, who’s spent time with me, and who’s made me feelseen.“I’ll miss you.”
