My bedroom door is closed, I have a CD playing in my boombox, and yet, I canstillhear them arguing downstairs. I love my parents, but I swear, sometimes they act like a couple of teenagers. The stuff they argue about is so stupid. Like right now, they’ve been bickering back and forth for the last hour aboutdinner. My mom wants to order pizza, but my dad wants us to go out to a nice restaurant. And I can bet my bottom dollar, neither of those options will be what we end up having.
What’ll actually happen is my mom will get so annoyed with my father that she’ll lock herself in their bedroom, my dad will either sit in the den and watch whatever game is on or go out to the garage where he does who knows what, and I’ll be left to fend for myself, which really means having cereal for dinner, unless I feel like going to the store, which I don’t. My nerves are fried, I’m so stressed out, and all I want to do is leave the house, but I can’t, because I leave for college in the morning, and I’m still not fully packed.
I’ve put it off until the last minute; something I seem to be good at lately.
Cranking the volume, I manage to get a good chunk of what’s left done, but it’s put on hold when I hear tap-tap-tap on my window. My whole body tenses, and I grit my teeth, knowing who’s waiting on the other side of the glass before I even look. This is something else I’ve put off until the last minute, and I know I can’t any longer. I plaster a forced smile on my face, ignoring the hammering of my heart against my ribs, and pad over to the window and unlock it. Graham climbs in like he has a dozen times before, and the smile reflecting back at me doesn’t look forced at all. It’s genuine, and it guts me.
“Hey, Sunny,” he drawls, sliding his arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss.
It’s been a few months since everything changed between us in the sunflower field separating our houses. A few months of sneaking around and living in sweet, ignorant bliss, because in the back of my mind, I always knew this wasn’t going to last.
I knew this day would come.
I knew I’d have to have the very conversation I’ve been putting off for weeks. The conversation we have to have now.
Graham has no idea what’s coming, and it kills me because this should’ve been talked about after the very first kiss. But instead of doing what I should’ve done, I chose to ignore it and pretend we weren’t on a deadline he knew nothing about.
I’m such a piece of shit.
Why is it so hard for me to face things head on?
Why is it so hard to talk about things instead of avoiding them?
Licking into my mouth, Graham deepens the kiss, and like I always do, I melt for him. Bringing my hands to his face, I kiss him back just as hard, as if this will soften the blow. We make our way over to my bed, and before we even climb on, my bodyis on fire. With him on top of me, I wrap my legs around his waist. His lips leave mine, trailing down to my neck. Each kiss against my overheated flesh feels electric, like there’s a buzzing running through my veins. I so badly want to give in to this moment, forget all the stress weighing me down, forget what I have to do, and just be here with him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling back just enough to look me in the eye.
I breathe out a small chuckle that sounds fake to my ears. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
He sits back, running his fingers through his messy brown strands. “You seem, I don’t know…tense. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
Shaking my head, my pulse pounding, I say, “No, it’s not that.”
“But it’s something?” he presses gently. “Sunny, what’s wrong?”
I push myself up, sitting with my back against the headboard. Time’s up, I guess. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Graham wasn’t so nice.
Clearing my throat, I urge myself to meet his gaze. “Actually, there’s something we need to talk about,” I murmur.
His brows dip. “Okay, what’s up?”
My mouth dries, and the knot in my stomach twists. No matter how many times I’ve played this moment in my mind, there have never been the right words. There’s no easy way to put this, so I just say it.
“I want to end this.” The statement is like shattered glass on my tongue.
“What?” Graham rears back. “What do you mean? Why?”
Swallowing down the thick emotion clawing at my throat, I say, “Because I leave for college tomorrow, and you’re staying here. It doesn’t make sense to keep this going.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“I’m being logical, Graham,” I spit out, harsher than I intend to. “You’ve got your final two years of high school ahead of you, and I’m moving away. We don’t need to hold each other back. Trust me, I dated someone who went off to college. It’s not a good idea.”
Distance creates a need for distraction.
Distance leads to lies, and cheating, and my heart broken.
I can’t do that to myself again. I can’t agree to long distance knowing, eventually, he’ll want somebody more convenient. I can’t.
