Running from the life that was.

Chapter Seventeen

A week later, Mia was filled with excitement as she made her way to school, her backpack filled with treats to surprise Tate for his birthday. She wanted to make his day just as special as he had made hers.

Mia had planned a picnic at the same spot they had shared the previous week, but this time, she had put together a candy platter filled with all sorts of sour treats—Tate's favorites, which he had mentioned during their conversations. She had also brought a chocolate cupcake with a candle, a sweet nod to the way he had celebrated her birthday.

The morning sped by, and soon Mia found herself waiting on the field for Tate. He took a little longer than expected, but when he finally arrived and spotted her, his face lit up with a bright smile.

"Happy Birthday!" Mia yelled, echoing the cheerfulness Tate had shared with her a week earlier.

Tate hurried over, wrapping her in a warm hug. They settled down on the blanket, and as they began to eat the snacks, Mia started to sing "Happy Birthday" to him before encouraging him to blow out the candle on the cupcake.

However, as the picnic progressed, Mia noticed a slight shift in Tate's demeanor. Although he smiled and laughed, something felt off. "Are you okay? Is this okay?" Mia asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"Sorry, yes! This is great," Tate replied, forcing a smile. But Mia could see that it didn't quite reach his eyes; there was a flicker of something else there—guilt? Sadness? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Pushing the worry aside, she tried to focus on the fun they were having, but the nagging feeling lingered.

Once the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, Mia quickly packed up the picnic supplies. "I'll see you on the bus?" she asked.

Tate seemed lost in thought, still helping to pack up. "Tate?" she called, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry, what?" he replied, snapping back to the present.

"I just asked if I'll see you on the bus. Are you sure you're okay?" she pressed, her concern growing.

"Oh, um.. yes. I'll see you on the bus. And I'm okay, I promise. Thank you for this," he said, his tone light but lacking conviction.

Mia nodded, still unsure about his behavior. "You're welcome. I'll see you soon," she said, before turning to run toward class, knowing she would definitely be late.

Once Mia was out of sight, Tate pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to someone: "I'm out. I don't want to do this anymore."

The reply came almost instantly. "Doesn't work like that," the message read.

Tate clenched his phone in frustration, anger bubbling up inside him. He should have never gotten involved in whatever this was. After the perfect birthday celebration with Mia, his guilt had intensified; he genuinely liked her. He hadn't had many friends in his life, and Mia felt like a genuine one.

His phone chimed again. "If you stop now, then that future you hope to have is over. You know that better than I do. Don't be an idiot."

Tate let out a loud, frustrated groan. "Fine, I'll keep going," he texted back, feeling a wave of despair wash over him. The thought of what he was doing and what it meant for his relationship with Mia weighed heavily on him. Once she found out about all of this, there was no way she would ever forgive him.

Another message came through: "That's the way, kid. Good decision. I'll even up your payment this week."

Tate ignored the message, shoving his phone into his bag as he headed to his next class. The weight of his choices pressed down on him, and he felt like he was standing at a crossroads, uncertain about which path to take. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever future he envisioned with Mia was slipping through his fingers, leaving him more conflicted than ever.