Page 64 of Crossed Lines

On our way to the bowling alley, I reach out to Willow in a silent ask to hold my hand. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I feel like I just need to be touching her. She raises her perfectly pointed eyebrow at me before she interlaces her fingers with mine.

We stay like that until I turn the truck off in front of the bowling alley. I wish the drive took a little longer. I’m not ready to let go yet. On our walk inside, Jade walks between us, keeping Willow and me an appropriate distance away from each other. We certainly wouldn’t want any rumors getting started, and this town loves to gossip.

We play two rounds, where I learn that Willow is surprisingly good at bowling. She’s better than me, at least. She even helps Jade get her first strike. Jade was using the bumpers, of course, but she still jumped for joy when all the pins fell down. Again, I find myself watching the two of them and wondering how we’re going to handle not having Willow around anymore. In just two short months, she’s changed us. She’s part of us now. And I don’t want to lose her.

After dinner is when everything takes a downward spiral. The fun day that we had seems to be null and void with Willow’s departure hanging over our heads.

She won’t be here tomorrow.

A pit forms in my stomach that gets worse when Jade starts to cry.

“I don’t want you to go,” she tells Willow as her little lip trembles.

“I wish I had more time too, Jade, but both of us have to get back to school,” Willow explains, pulling my daughter into a hug.

“But I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you more.” Willow releases their hug so she can look Jade in the eye. “But hey, you can call me any time. And you know I want to see pictures of back to school.”

Jade wipes the tears from her cheeks and nods. “Ok. But will you come back?”

Willow smiles and nods. “Yes, I’ll be back. I don’t know when, but I promise you’ll see me again, ok?”

“Ok. Can you read me a bedtime story tonight?” Jade asks.

“I’d love to.”

The three of us walk to Jade’s room, and just like we’ve done so many times this summer, Willow and I sit on either side of Jade in her bed. Willow reads one of the books we got from the library this morning. I couldn’t tell you one thing about this story because all I can think about is how I’m supposed to say goodbye to Willow.

A few more tears are shed before Jade finally lies down, and her eyes flutter closed.

Willow and I silently tiptoe back to the living room. We stare at each other in an awkward silence, neither one of us knowing how to start this conversation.

“I guess I should get going,” she finally says.

“No.” I don’t know what to say, but I know I can’t let her leave. Not yet. “I-I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to either.”

Instead of coming up with something profound to tell her how much she means to me, I close the distance between us and kiss her like my life depends on it. Because it feels like it does. My heart is racing from my approaching heartbreak, and I don’t know how to handle this. I’ve never felt this way before.

I kiss her and kiss her, pulling her as close to me as I can, but it’s still not close enough. I want more. I want everything.

When I move from her lips to her neck where I know she loves, she moans my name.

“Beck, since I’m leaving…”

“Yeah, baby?” I ask in between kisses.

“Since I’m leaving, can you give me tonight?”

I pull back and look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are swollen. Her eyes scan me, trying to gauge my reaction.

“What do you want?” I ask, attempting to swallow down my emotions.

“I want everything. Just one night. As a goodbye.”

One night with Willow in my bed. I want it more than anything. We’ve been dancing around it all summer. I’ve tried my hardest to keep myself from going too far, but she’s leaving. She’s leaving, and I have no idea when or if I’m going to see her again. All I know is that I need her.