Something about the tone of his voice made the back of my neck prick. “Okay.”
“I got an internship.”
I let out a whoop and threw my arms around him, squeezing his rigid body. “I’m so proud of you,” I said, pulling back with a laugh. I’d doused him in even more flour. “TheToronto Star?The Globe and Mail? The CBC?”
He shook his head. “TheEdmonton Journal.”
It was a knock to the gut. “You’re moving to Alberta?” I knew we couldn’t live together forever, but that future seemedso far away. We didn’t spend enough time together as it was. Edmonton was far. Really far. Panic rose in my throat like bile.
“For six months, but the hiring editor said they try to find a way to keep the best interns around.” He smiled, but I could tell he was nervous. “I’ve always wanted to see more of the country. Travel.”
And with that one word, I knew exactly what I’d do. “I’ll go with you.”
We’d spend six months in Edmonton, exploring Alberta together. We could see Banff. Lake Louise. Learn to ski. Visit Calgary during the Stampede. It would be a whole new era of our friendship—nothing would have to change, not really. It was perfect. A new adventure.
George let out a surprised laugh. “What?”
I started listing all the things we could do together, all the places I’d only read about that we could visit. It took me a minute to see that George wasn’t smiling.
“Frankie, what about your job? What about your life?”
That stopped me short.
“Right.” I tried to smile, but I was shaken. “Give me one second—I need the bathroom.”
As I ran my hands under the cold water, I felt like I might be sick.
George was leaving, chasing his dream, and my first reaction was to throw away everything to be with him.
This is how it happens, I thought.This is how you lose yourself.
George was the one person I’d do anything for. The person who could sweep me away if I wasn’t careful. I lifted my shirt and stared at his name written on my rib cage. I traced a fingerover theG, startled by how much I liked the sight of it. He needed to go, and I couldn’t go with him.
I washed the flour off my face and returned to the living room.
“Hey,” I said, sitting beside him on the couch. “Sorry I tried to crash your internship. I got overexcited. Tell me everything about it. When do you leave?” I forced cheer into my voice, but it felt like my heart was crumpling in my chest.
“Right after graduation.”
That was three weeks away. I tried to stay calm. “Wow.”
“I know. I’m kind of freaking out.”
For a second, he looked just like he did when we met. I knew what I had to do. I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “It’s going to be amazing,” I told him. “You’ll be amazing.”
“Promise we’ll stay in touch.”
“George, I’ll stay in touch so much, you’ll be sick of me.”
Three weeks later, we took a cab to the airport in silence. I stared out the window, blinking back tears. George was leaving, and he was never coming back—I was sure of it. He was going to meet new people and see new places, and he’d do it all without me.
I walked George to the security gate, then wrapped my arms around him. And unlike the other times I’d hugged him, he wasn’t stiff. George pulled me into his chest, folding himself around me, and we stayed like that for a full minute.
“Promise you won’t forget me,” I said.
“I promise,” he whispered. “I promise. I promise. I promise.”
Then I watched George walk toward the gate. He paused for a moment, but he didn’t turn around. Then he disappeared.
