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* * *
Marley
“I think I’m making a mistake,” I say, turning my head to look over at Delaney.
We’re about twenty minutes from campus, and my stomach is just feeling uneasy.
“About what?” she asks.
“Leaving Clark. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to be anywhere if he’s not there,” I admit.
“That’s cute,” she says, smiling.
“No, Del. I’m serious,” I say, and her fingers stop tapping against the steering wheel.
“These are your dreams, though, Mar,” she says.
“Are they, though? When have you ever heard me say that my dream is to become a psychologist?”
“Well, never, but we’ve always talked about going away to school together,” she says, turning into our driveway.
“That was back when our dreams involved partying. Our life revolved around it. That’s not me anymore. I don’t even think it’s you either.”
“But what will we do?”
“I don’t know, but who cares? That’s the beauty of it.”
“You're serious?”
“I’m dead serious. I’ve wasted so much of my life drowning in grief and guilt. It’s time for me to start living. I can’t do that if I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Don’t you feel that way about Mitch, too?” I ask.
Her body stiffens, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
“What? I don’t know. No,” she stutters.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her, putting my hand on her arm.
She looks over at me, panicked.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. You can when you’re ready. I just want you to know I’m okay with it,” I reassure her.
“So, what do we do now?” she asks.
“Let’s go back home, and we’ll figure everything else out from there.”
“This was a huge waste of gas,” she says, laughing.
“It gave us time to think,” I say, shrugging.
* * *
By the time we get back to Mitch’s house, it’s dark out. I see both their cars in the driveway, and suddenly, I’m feeling really nervous.
“It’s going to be okay. You both love each other,” Delaney says, helping ease some of the nerves.
“What if he wanted this space?” I say.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” She chuckles.
