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HARLEY
Four Years Ago
Gone.
The word didn’t completely process in my brain until days—weeks—dragged by and Josie never came back. It didn’t truly sink in, until summer break came and went. The school formal. Senior exams. Graduation. Josie missed all of it. Because ofme. Because of something I don’t even remember doing.
Grazing my thumb over the rock in my hand, I throw it and watch it skip across the surface of the water. Flashes of a memory of me teaching Josie how to skip a rock threatens to bombard me, but I forcefully shove it out of my head.
It felt like someone stabbed my heart without stitching the wounds back up. I knew I loved her, but I didn’t realise how much until she was gone.
I missed her. So fucking much. Meeting her gaze in the hallway. Watching her ponytail swish with each step. Her infectious laugh. Her warm smile. Our secret hook ups under stairs and in locked classrooms. Late night texting.
It’s been a year and I still can’t get her off my mind.
I call her every day. The number goes straight to voicemail, even if I try on someone else’s phone.
After all this time, I still feel like someone is holding my head under water and I haven’t come up for air. My chest aches. My lungs burn. Everything inside me hurts in ways I’ve never experienced.
I understand why she left. A scandal like that in a town like this can ruin even the highest people on the social ladder, let alone a young teenage girl. I just wish she would let me talk to her.
Even if I couldn’t apologise enough for what has happened, I just want her to know I’m here and I always will be. Whenever—if ever—she is ready, I want to be together. I don’t care what I need to do for that to happen. I’m willing to do just about anything.
I’ll wait for her. However long it takes. I just want to know thereisa chance.
For six months, there was nothing else anyone wanted to talk about. Guys whispered when I walked past their groups, girls shot me daggers with their eyes. Parents frowned down at me, elderly women shook their heads.
The bruises from my father’s foot across my ribs and back didn’t fade for a long time. I didn’t fight back. I deserved every hit I got.
After Mike Johnston made a comment about Josie being a slut, I rammed my fist so hard into his nose that it broke in two places. That shut everyone up pretty quickly. A two-week suspension and a black mark on my record later, I’d do it again. A hundred times over. Because Josie deserves so much more than this.
In a way, I’m glad she got out. I wish I could.
I run my thumb across the crinkled piece of paper in my hand. It’s a silhouette drawing of a guy with his arms wrapped around a girl as they stare up at a starry night sky. It’s a drawing of us on one of the nights I needed to get out of the house and breathe fresh air.
She drew this for me. She loved me. She was going to choose me.
It’s her birthday today. I tilt my head back and look up at the night sky. Hazy clouds cover most of the stars tonight, but there’s one that shines brighter than all the others. I smile sadly up at it.
“Happy Birthday, Josie,” I whisper. “Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”
