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She was right, about everything. I had worked hard, and leaving it behind was so sad that I felt that pain I’d lived with for eleven years return to shroud my heart. I knew what I’d be going back to, but I didn’t have another choice. I would probably never finish my degree, never become a nurse. Sadder than that though, was leaving behind the love I’d learned to accept from Hannah. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d also be leaving Julian. We weren’t in a relationship, we weren’t anything more than stolen glances and occasional touches, and yet… not being able to lay eyes on him was a worse fate than never being together at all.
“We’ll figure something out,” Hannah said, “you’re going to come back, do you hear me?”
Her eyes were determined when she looked at me, and I nodded.
“Okay,” I responded.
I didn’t believe her though. She knew I’d never take a handout, and I knew there weren’t many other options. Maybe in a few years, when I saved up enough for a plane ticket, I’d go see her. I’d bask in her brilliance for a week, two weeks, before returning to a loveless home and a dead-end future.
I put Julian out of my mind. I knew that I would probably never see him again. Even if I was visiting, I’d want to avoid him. Something that was painfully bright and smoldering in my chest would be snuffed out, and as much as its existence hurt now, I knew I’d be cold without it.
“I can’t lose anyone else,” Hannah said quietly.
I thought about it and knew she was right. Hannah was relatively slow to trust, and the way she had jumped into this friendship, feet-first, without a fear of falling, had been unprecedented. I knew from the way she reacted to other people. I was too, and I coveted her love. Would I be able to let someone in again after losing her?
Honestly, I wasn’t sure. My biggest fear was that returning to Portland would turn me into the same, bitter, twisted person that my father had been for my whole life.
Hannah cried herself to sleep in my arms, and I struggled with my decision all night. When the sun rose, peeking through the holes in my garbage-bag windows, I hadn’t fallen asleep. I stared at the bright spots of light and wondered how I could be doing this. How I could be leaving the first place, the first people, to make me feel like I might have a home in a very long time. My suitcase lay open on the floor, a garbage bag filled with my course books inside. They were still legible, but ridiculously crinkled from having been submerged in the water that had flooded my apartment. I knew I’d never be able to re-sell them, and I couldn’t cart them across the country for sentimentality’s sake, so I was going to see if Goodwill wanted them and take them to the dump if they didn’t. I lay there, in the growing brightness of the room, and at some point, I must have dozed off, because when I next looked, the clock on my phone read 11:28 am.
“Han,” I nudged my friend, “Wake up.”
My friend blearily opened her eyes and rubbed them where the salt had gathered from her tears. It hurt to see the sadness still present in her eyes. Everything I had done, every step I had taken, was to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and somehow, I ended up doing that anyway.
“So, today’s the day?” she asked, eyes heavy.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I answered solemnly.
I got up and brushed my teeth. Hannah wandered the small space in silence, still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
“What time do you have to be at the airport?”
“A little after three,” I said dismally, “so I’ve got like two hours until I need to head out.”
Hannah looked at her phone and frowned like she was expecting an answer that never came.
“Let me take you to breakfast,” she said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand.
“This isnota handout, Evelyn. This is me, treating my best friend to a meal before she leaves. Plenty of people do that.”
I pushed down the argumentative side of myself that sprung up, screaming that I didn’t need help.
“Okay, thank you, Han.”
Breakfast was a solemn affair. The whole place juxtaposed the mood. I stared down at my plate of French toast, little whipped cream hats sat on the two slices. There were families smiling and laughing nearby. Hannah looked equally perplexed by her pancakes. Neither of us had touched the cutlery by our hands.
I took a sip of coffee, and my friend watched me.
“I know it hasn’t been long, but it’s going to be weird without you around,” Hannah said, breaking the silence.
“It hasn’t been long, but it’s going to be weird going home,” I replied.
It was true. I couldn’t see myself in that place anymore. My old job at Benny’s diner, scraping together pennies to escape my dad’s place. Sitting upstairs and listening to him and his friends drinking, sometimes fighting. The sound of cop cars and the smell of cigarette smoke married with the pungent odor of my father’s favorite whiskey.
All of it was unfamiliar now. What was familiar was to step out the back of Nick’s cafe where the staff would smoke and I’d hang out, laughing with them. Long nights in the library, trying to track down one single source to cite for an essay, Hannah’s little mini cooper, the running shoes I borrowed and never gave back. Nursing hangovers at her house, movie nights and Andrew’s hot chocolate. Julian. Everything about him. From the smart way he dressed, to the stubble he’d let grow when he had a couple of days off. The smell of his cologne, and his stern expression if I got too close. His dedication to his daughter—his lips on mine that night, and my eyes locked on his in a million different instances. It took me back to the first night we’d met, when he had been at his least guarded, letting me see how worried he had been for my safety. I straightened my hand out on the table. My pinky finger still had a small kink in it, despite my best efforts.
“I’ll come back,” I promised Hannah, “Whether for a visit or whatever, I’ll come back.”
