Page 120 of Puck My Life

And dream of them.

Vae

PAST

The letter comes in the mail, an unexpected and unwelcome reminder of dreams I used to have. I’ve been accepted into the LeRoux Culinary Academy. On the other side of the world.

I remember Maria insisting that I apply. I thought I’d thrown it all in the bin. She must have sent it.

I stare at it, wanting it so badly.

The door slams open.

“I’m telling you that umpire hates me. It was a cheap shot, and he just gave it to him.”

“He was better than you.”

I fold up the application and push it into the drawer. They will never find ithere.

PRESENT

The movers go in like a storm, removing all my belongings while they are at training.

When we walk out the door, I’ve left no sign of me. I’ve erased my existence. With the exception of one room.

They don’t know my address. I’ve changed my number. No one who knows me will give them any information.

What we need is a clean break, and I need to disappear.

Jansen puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest.

“It will be okay, Vae. You’ll survive.”

I sniffle. “Thanks for helping me with this.”

“Anytime.”

Is this the worst moment of my life? Yes. But I’m glad to have one friend with me. The last three days, he’s been with me constantly, bringing me ice-cream, chocolate, junk food, and letting me cry all over his shoulder. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve him, but I will give him free cake for life.

I’m not sure how good I’m going to be for anything else. I have never felt this bad before. The only thing I can think to do is run.

I don’t know what else to do.

This is the only shred of self-preservation that I have.

“Can you give me a minute? I just need to…say goodbye.”

“Sure, I’ll be out here waiting for you. Take as long as you need.”

I walk up the uneven pavers and up onto the wooden porch. There are scars in the wood that came from a thousand memories I was witness to. When I enter the house, it already smells different.

There is something so final about this.

I stand there, tears streaming down my cheeks, shoulders shaking, a fist to my mouth to smother the sounds. My heart’s breaking and broken.

I loved them so much.

Would it have been better to just be friends? To have gone on forever without ever having a taste of the other side?