Page 122 of Within These County Lines

“Maybe,” he says. “I forgot how much it hurts when people leave.”

“That’s what makes reunions so special.” I place my hand on his knee. “Let’s bring you home.”

A few minutes later, we pull up to his house. The white front door is shut tight. The sun glints off the freeway sound barrier, casting a shimmer on the pavement.

“Will you come in with me?” Xander asks.

I exhale. “This is a moment between you and your mom.”

“Maybe you can knock like last time,” he says. “Tell her that you’ve been talking to me in secret, and I’ll pop out from the bushes.”

I shake my head, smiling. “I think that was traumatic for her. Just walk inside.”

He scratches his neck. “Well, what if I write her another letter and you read it to her first?”

“Hey.” I take his hand and squeeze it. “It’s going to be okay.”

His lips tremble. “How do you know that?”

I swallow and lean a little closer. “You know what I realized this summer?” He lifts his gaze, eyes glossy. “That the universe really doesn’t factor enough time into our lives. Not for me. Not for you. Not for anyone. And deep down, we all feel it. We wish for more time. We try to freeze the best moments, stretch them out, hold them tighter.” I pause. “When time stopped for me, I started to see why the people around me might’ve hurt me. They weren’t trying to. They were just reacting to a world that’s fleeting. Maybe your mom stayed quiet back then not because she didn’t care but because she didn’t want to ruin what time you had together. Maybe she was trying to protect that moment the only way she knew how.” Xander looks toward his house. “Even now, she waits in silence, doing her best to freeze time in case it brings you back, just like how it took you.”

He doesn’t speak for a long second.

I take his chin in my hand. “Her face is going to light up,” I say. “The curse is broken. You don’t have to worry.”

He finally exhales. “She won’t look past me?”

“I bet she won’t be able to look away from you.”

He nods, flicking a tear from his nose. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“You’ll see me later, tomorrow, and every day after that.”

He steps out, walks slowly down the uneven brick path, and knocks.

As I drive down the street, I hear a joyous shriek, like someone unwrapping a puppy on Christmas morning.

Dara and Xander aren’t the only ones with big reunions ahead. Mine might not be as happy, but it’s necessary. I need to finish what I started this summer. I need to end things with Murray once and for all—so that this time, he understands.

I take a sharp right toward Penango College.

As soon as I pull into campus, I spot him, Murray’s unmistakable sulk moving through the chain-link gate behind the football stadium. I shift into park before the truck fully stops, gears grinding as my body jerks forward.

The sound catches his attention. His head snaps up, eyes locking on mine. He doesn’t hesitate. He starts toward me.

I step out, rolling my neck.

The distance between us feels endless, even though it’s barely a dozen yards. We meet in the shadow of the bleachers, standing inches apart, where he thought we’d spend the next four years. I scuff the toe of my sneaker against the pavement.

“Hey, Murray.” My voice is steady. “Long time.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah. It feels like forever.”

“How is football camp?” I press the back of my hand against my forehead to block the sun glare.