No Time Like Goodbye

Chapter 1- Hazel

"Hazel? Hazel, come on, everybody has left already." I shook my head, shook away all the thoughts, and looked up at Dylan. It was true, almost all of the seats in the auditorium were empty now. Graduation was over. High school was over. 

This was supposed to a happy day, wasn't it? We had finally done it. All those nights of studying and staying up past midnight to finish homework had been worth it. The diploma I held in my hand was proof of that. Then why was I so sad?

I knew exactly why, actually. I was saying goodbye to my teachers, my classes, the last four years of my life, but I was also saying goodbye to Dylan. I was going to Yale come August. Dylan was staying at home, in Mastif, Virginia. In less than three months, we could very well be saying goodbye forever. 

I tried my best to shake off the feelings of nostalgia and  followed Dylan, out of the small school auditorium and to his car. I didn't say a word the whole way, per norm, but for once neither did Dylan. 

"Hey, Dylan, you okay?" I asked as he started the car. He didn't reply, turning up the radio without a word. I sighed but didn't press him, looking out the window. If there was only one thing I learned from nearly 13 years of being friends with Dylan Nightly, it was that if he didn't want to talk, he wouldn't. It didn't happen very often, but at times like these you just had to let him be. 

We arrived back at his house to change out of our graduation robes nearly ten minutes later, and Dylan had still not said anything. I frowned a bit as I pulled off my gown, leaving me in just a pair of shorts and my bra. I wasn't self-conscious around Dylan anymore, so I didn't worry about my near nudity in his presence. He didn't even seem to notice me, changing into jeans and a t-shirt. 

You're just overreacting, I thought to myself. There's nothing wrong. He's just, thinking. 

I shook my head and finished changing. "Ready to go?" I asked him, pinning my hair back into a low braid. He nodded and smiled, but it wasn't one of his usual Dylan smiles. It seemed almost forced, as though he really didn't feel like smiling for once. 

"I was born ready." He walked back out to his car and hopped in, waiting for me. He tapped the steering wheel impatiently as I slipped on a pair of plane black flats, jogging out to the car. He drove off, towards the restaurant where we were supposed to meet Fahari and Ryan, our best friends, besides each other. We listened to the radio in relative silence for about five minutes, until he turned down the radio. 

"So, when are you going to tour Yale and look at dorms, again?" He asked. It was probably the eighth time he had asked that in the past week. His voice held a hint of reluctance and of something bordering on pain.

"June 30th," I answered, studying him. The sunlight shone through the window behind him, making his blonde hair appear even more blonde, and his blue eyes an even more shocking cerulean. I smiled a bit, lost in memorizing every inch of his face. 

I had always wanted to draw him- my bedroom walls were littered with drawings of people close to me-. but for some reason I never had. It was like he was simply too amazing, too real, to be drawn on paper. It was almost as if his essence, as if the way his hair curled at this base of his neck when it was too long, as if the way his lips seemed to always curve up into a smile just a tiny bit, as if the five small freckles on his jawline seemed more pronounced when he was tanner than usual, as if all these things were too real, too beautiful to be captured on paper. 

"Hey, earth to Hazel, you coming?" I blinked and realized we had finally arrived. Dylan was already halfway out of the car, looking back at me with a slight smile. 

"Of course I am."