“How can you stand to be around him, when you know it’ll be over soon?”
“I don’t permit myself to dwell on our separations.”
“If you wanted to invent a new rule, who would you have to ask?”
“Grant’s opinion is the only one that matters to me, and I know what it is.”
Maybe not. His attitude toward her had changed since last winter. But was the change because of Camarin? Or was it a result of him being friendlier in general? “You have a crush on Grant.”
“It is my understanding that a ‘crush’ is an ephemeral emotional interest—one that humans feel towards each other, typically when they are in their teens or twenties. A crush is often triggered by attraction based on the physical attributes of the other.”
“That’s a fairly good description.”
“It does not apply to me. My attraction is based on deep admiration, and it is not short-lived.”
“Have you told him?”
Her cheeks flushed with faint color. “To what purpose?”
“He might feel the same way.”
She paused for a moment, as if considering the possibility. Abruptly, she drew away and said, in a crisply uncaring tone, “Let us not speak of this anymore. Please excuse me. I am ready to retire.”
Long after her footsteps had faded, I stood in the sunroom, leaning against the glass, and reminded myself that I shouldn’t interfere in the drama playing out between my Beings. As if that would stop me.
When I checked my email Saturday night, there was a message from Newman College in my inbox. I clicked it open and smiled at the first line. I was in!
I flopped belly-down on my bed, smiling into my pillows. The purest kind of joy filled me, confirming that I’d made the right decision. I’d never felt this happy about my acceptance to Piedmont. Newman was exactly what I needed. Beautiful, quiet, innovative, welcoming, andaway.
My parents would be glad. Not as happy as me, but their worries about my college plans would be relieved.
A five-hour commute from my parents would be about right. They could visit me, and I wouldn’t yield to the temptation to drive home every weekend.
Weirdly, the idea of a separation from Scott bothered me more. Our friendship was still fragile. I hated to think that a long distance might cause it to starve. I was beginning to think that I liked him too much to want that to happen.
What if he didn’t seem all that sorry to see me go? I had to be braced for that reaction, too.
After opening the Newman College website, I spent a couple of hours browsing everything. I’d already studied it multiple times before, when I was thinking about going there and planning the road trip. But it wasmyschool now. They wanted me, and I wanted them. I was looking at actual choices instead of possibilities.
Majors, minors, residence halls, clubs, study abroad...
Was it wrong to be so eager about the future?
Guilt pierced my excitement, allowing the joy to leak out. I opened a folder, located my favorite audio clip, and clicked PLAY.
You’re a brat, Sara. You know that?
I dropped my tablet to the carpet and curled into a fetal position. I wanted to get better and, one day, I would. One day, I would have something big happen and not ruin the experience by regretting I couldn’t tell Sean. One day, I would be alright. But it hadn’t happened yet. Was five months too long?
Would I ever forgive myself for sleeping through his last conscious moments?
I checked the clock. Seven PM. Not quite bed-time but close enough. I opened a drawer in the nightstand, found a sleeping pill, and waited for it to take hold.
My parents returned from Nags Head in the late afternoon on Sunday. I had dinner ready and invited the Beings. I would share my good news all at once.
The plan was to wait until everyone had eaten. Dad changed the plan.
“What are we celebrating, Sara?” he asked.
