I think things fell apart when Rick died.
The worst part is that everything had been going so well. Mom was 7 months sober. Nate and I were freshman at the high school; he quickly became the star of the basketball team and I was one of the best creative writers for our school newspaper. Nancy quit smoking and Rick was healthier than ever. Everything was so perfect. Then Rick died, and everything changed.
Nate left first.
We were still fifteen. He was still fifteen. I couldn't shake the image of Nate, skinny and drowning in his big yellow hoodie, earbuds plugged in, on a bus headed away from Woodvale. Away from me. Whenever people asked where he went, Nancy instructed me to say he left for boarding school.
Nate had left me a note.
Taped to my screen door, blowing in the wind. I read the letter, pieced together what happened, and ran down the gravel lane, my sandals hitting the heels of my feet. Over the green hill. Past the oak trees. All the way to Nate's house. I knocked on their door and told Nancy that her grandson, my best friend, the boy who stole my heart, had ran away.
My mom left soon after.
Snuck out in the middle of the night. No goodbye, no kisses, not even a note. I woke up and she wasn't there. I had to run down the same gravel lane, over the same green hill, past the same green oak trees, all the way to the house that I used to think of as Nate's but now was only Nancy's. I remember the sun rising as I ran for my life, the orange and the red blinding the edges of my vision as I scrambled to tell someone that my mother was gone again.
That was three years ago.
YOU ARE READING
Right Where You Left Me
Romance𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 "What?" I ask. He brings his hand to my face. His fingertips brush my lips. "What would you do," he says, "If I kissed you right now?" "I'd probably push you away," I say, and huff out a nervous laugh. I've never been a good liar, and...
