Page 111 of Within These County Lines

The hardest part is knowing when to leave the shallow creek that’s always been there but no longer serves me, and when to dive into something deeper, even if I don’t know where it leads.

Whitley and I are choosing to dive in. Our river is flowing somewhere new. And we’re about to explore the unfamiliar landscape together.

A hiccup from Whitley catches my attention. I turn to her, and she’s sobbing.

“Whitley, oh my gosh.” I pull her into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“He spelled my name wrong,” she says. “Like, who does that?” She blows snot on my shirt.

“No one worth your time.” I comb her hair with my fingers.

“What kind of dad can’t spell their daughter’s name?”

“We’re almost out of here.”

“Did you get the scholarship?” Whitley asks, voice shaking. “Please say yes.”

I exhale. “I don’t know yet. But I’m leaving regardless. I want to be with you. If it’s not school, I’ll find something else to do outside Penango. Maybe I’ll serve smoothies on the beach somewhere in Florida.”

She smiles through a cry, then sets her clarinet down to hold me closer. “Where’s our first stop on the trip?”

“New River Gorge National Park in West Virginia.”

She raises a finger. “Remember we have a dog in recovery, so we can’t do any intense hikes.”

“Got it.”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Maybe next week. School starts August twentieth or something. That gives us two weeks on the road.”

She dabs tears from her cheeks. “What are you going to tell Xander?”

I press my lips together.

I’m still figuring that part out.

46

I meet Xander at the Bean for dinner, my mind crowded with the conversation we need to have.

I’m going to tell him about the scholarship, my road trip, and moving on. I don’t want to leave him behind, but it’s the only choice I have left. I can’t bring an imaginary friend to college and risk making no new real ones.

And I can’t invite him on the road trip. That wouldn’t be fair to Whitley. The whole way would be me translating conversations and talking to someone she can’t hear.

I remind myself I’ve only known Xander for a couple months. No matter how much he means to me, how linked we are by this curse, he can’t come between Whitley and me.

I hear my counselor’s voice in my head: Do not let another boy make you miss this deadline like the last one.

But Xander isn’t just a boy. The whole situation reminds me of walking barefoot on the blacktop in the middle of summer, stuck between two choices. I can keep moving forward and explore the unknown, or I can retreat to avoid getting burned.

I don’t know what to say to him. All I know is I don’t want to hurt him.

My earbuds are in again, just in case someone sees me talking to thin air and I need to play it off like I’m on the phone. But this time, I almost want to actually use them, to blast music loud enough to drown out Xander’s inevitable whimpers.

We could plan visits. We can figure something out. I don’t want this to be goodbye. It can’t be. Because in fifty years, in the end, when we’re still teenagers and everyone we know has passed, we’ll be all each other has.

I stare at the old black-and-white photo of Penango’s Main Street framed on the diner’s wall. If we had broken the curse, none of this would be a question. If the spell was gone, I know exactly where I’d be.