“You’ve been giving me this hurt puppy look for the past hour.”
I look down, a mental groan resounding in my head as she looks at me expectantly. “Well, I ...” I grab my star plush and hold it to my chest, the soft fibers tickling my chin as I contemplate the way to say the truth.
“Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it,” she says. Her hand comes into my line of vision, her pastel-blue friendship bracelet showing, and I look at her, tears welling in my eyes.
“I’m moving in a month,” I push out, heartbroken by how her face drops instantly.
“You’re moving to another house? Or ...” she says, somewhat hopeful, and I shake my head. “Okay, I mean, I’ll miss the house, especially the vintage wallpaper, courtesy of Grandmama H. But we’re living on campus anyway.” There’s a mixture of confusion and relief painting her face.
I sink farther into my pillows, not wanting to fill the silence with something that will hurt her even more. Disbelief crosses her features, her perfectly plucked eyebrows forming a small crease.
I open my mouth, confirming what she’s realized. “I got rejected, J.”
A wave of silence spreads through the room before she breaks it. “B, those letters have been out for months, why didn’t you tell me?”
Shame swallows me because she’s my best friend, and she should’ve been the first person I told. “I was embarrassed, and I thought maybe I could get in somewhere close, and then transfer, but I got those letters back as well.”
Her eyes crinkle in concern. “Denied too?”
I don’t bother answering, but she seems to understand the words I can’t voice. It’s silent once again, and I let it linger while I gather the courage to reply. “The last one is the one I did for fun, and I was accepted—”
She cuts me off, grinning. “What?Congratulations! Which one?”
A pained exhale leaves me. “Mella Colta, the one in California.”
“Oh.” Her voice drops at that, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head. There are different questions she wants to ask, but determination outweighs them. She looks down, and there’s so much to say, yet neither of us want to take the first step. Her hope hangs by a thread, her mouth curving into a little smile. “Well, where are you moving to?”
“Los Angeles,” I mutter. Jamie’s eyes widen and I break eye contact, stealing the cookie dough container. Her eyes water as she finally does raise her head, and I move closer to comfort her.
Silent tears fall on my white comforter, marking her devastation, as I hold her. Her shoulders shake slightly as she sniffles. A broken whisper comes from her. “I’ve lost just about everyone in my life. I can’t lose you too, Bianca.” My heart shatters for her, and I hug her that much harder. Jamie’s parents died when she was fourteen. Her grandparents took her in, but then died this year right after she turned eighteen. They left her everything, and because of that, all her aunts and uncles shunned her, leaving her all on her own, besides me.
The thoughts make me sigh as I know how I’ve unintentionally triggered her.
“Listen to me, you’re not losing me. I’m just not gonna be living here. But nothing will change our friendship, I promise.” Jamie is one of those people that no matter how much reassurance she gets, it’s hard for her to truly believe it. I sigh, more so for how this is hurting the one person who helped build me up after my fallout with Liam.
She wipes a tear, more coming down subsequently. “That’s what everyone says.”
I shake my head, trying to reassure her with everything I’ve got. “But I’m not them, and I never will be. I’ll always be here for you ... for everything. I’ll never abandon you, I never have, and I’m not starting today, Jamie.” She nods almost absentmindedly, and I rack my brain for other things I could say for her to believe me.
“You can’t leave, B. You’re literally the only person I have,” she replies, and I embrace her once again, her breath catching a bit.
A ragged whisper leaves me. “I’m sorry.” But I know that those words aren’t enough. The one thing about loving and knowing everything about someone is that you know how their brain works. Afterward, there’s an awkward feeling in the air. We do everything we always do. We order a pizza and drink some of the soda Jamie brought over while we drooled over the abs of the men on TV. Yet, there was still something in the air. This tension. Even though we both do everything we can to ignore it, it stays the whole night till we eventually fall asleep.
A zipper zipping shut startles me awake, and I glance up to Jamie packing. A small headache forms, and I catch sight of my alarm clock, registering that it’s three in the morning.
“You okay?” I ask, thinking she’s doing her routine cleanup. After rubbing my eyes more, the strap of her backpack locked onto her shoulder comes in clearly. My heart drops to my stomach when all her belongings are gone. My sleepiness is fading and concern fills my eyes as I knew this would happen—I hoped it wouldn’t.
She stops at that, and I open my eyes more, seeing she was planning on leaving. “Jamie, don’t shut me out, please. I’m your B, you can talk to me,” I say as she looks at me, but refuses to say anything back. All I’m met with are red-rimmed eyes and a frown.
“I know. Look, I have to go. See how Whiskers is doing. You know he’s always trying to get into his catnip.” I reach out for her, but she steps back, making me back up in response. “I’ll talk to you later,” she mutters, heading in the direction of my door.
“Oh. Um, okay—” I start as she leaves my room, no hug or anything. Following her out, I open the front door, expecting one then, but she slinks past me, heading to her car.
I look out the window in the direction of the driveway. Her bun bounces in the moonlight as she walks away. I can feel her emotionally walking away that much more, though. Something folds inside me—quietly, but achingly. Another piece of my heart cracks ever so slightly at the thought of having another person in my life no longer be in it. Though, I hold out hope thinking she’ll look back and wave like she always does.
But she doesn’t, and I walk to my room, already feeling the distance.?
There are texts after texts I’ve sent to Jamie, but I’ve yet to hear a reply. Each unanswered message chips away at a piece of me until I’m left an aching mess. It’s been a couple of days since I told her I was moving, and she’s completely isolated herself; not that I blame her entirely. The feeling of helplessness, of how I can convince her that I’m not another person who’ll let her down, consumes me daily.
