Forever [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty Two

The ocean hummed in the distance. A light breeze pushed through the open windows of the beach house, carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen and something that already felt like nostalgia. Sunlight spilled across the hardwood floors, casting long shadows across half-packed bags and sand-dusted shoes.

Dana stirred awake slowly, wrapped in Chandler's arms. His chest rose and fell against her back in a rhythm that was almost meditative. For a moment, she didn't want to move. If she stayed still long enough, maybe the world wouldn't move either.

She turned her head slightly to find him watching her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Didn't take long for you to fall asleep," Dana whispered the moment they made eye contact.

"It was a struggle. Listening to Ethan and Lana's drawn out make out session didn't make it hard." He used his elbow to prop himself up and halfway hover over her. One soft peck later, the two of them were hugging it out on their pile of covers on the floor. "I bet my breath smells awful. I downed two beers before I passed out."

Dana giggled while covering his mouth with her hand. "It's pretty rough but nothing a shower and toothbrush can't fix."

She sat up slowly and glanced around the room. The others were still asleep in various corners of the house — Lana was curled up under a throw blanket on the couch with Ethan, Jessica knocked out in a beanbag chair near the sliding glass door.

Dana exhaled deeply. "We have time to beat them there."

That's all it took for Dana and Chandler to sneak off to the bathroom with their things. They had the shower as hot as it could go. Both stripped down at the same time and rushed into the steaming water. They took turns washing each others back and Dana playfully washed Chandler's hair. He jokingly threatening to take her shower cap off is she continued to play with the shampoo in his hair.

As they slowed down to wash thoroughly, Chandler wrapped his arms around her. "It's over already?" she whispered.

Chandler rubbed the back of his neck as if he didn't know what else to say. "Feels like it just started, I guess."

They moved slowly in that moment. No rush, no hassle — just quietness, hesitant laughter, and unspoken promises not to let this be their last time.

Lana made coffee for everyone. Jessica burned a batch of toaster waffles and blamed the toaster. Ethan walked around shirtless as if he was a model in a beachwear ad, and Chandler pulled Dana into the kitchen just to kiss her on the forehead.

"I don't want to leave," she vocalized as she leaned against him.

"Then don't," he whispered back. "Let's go hide in the ocean and start a new life"

She chuckled, resting her head against his chest.

"I don't know about you but sleeping on a bag of beans is nothing like sleeping in my bed," Jessica groaned as she placed waffles on everyone's plate. "I guess everyone was too drunk to make it to the bedrooms."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "What are you on? Hardwood floor is a cloud compared to anything else I've ever laid on." He smirked at Jessica who hit his chest as a response. "But on the bright side, this was a successful weekend. It was quick but it was so needed."

By late afternoon, the Jeep was packed, and the house was locked behind them. Ethan slipped the key back under the hide space and dusted his hands in his shorts.

Lana stood near the jeep with anxious look on her face. "Wait!" She called out as Chandler threw the last bag in the back. All eyes were on her as she held up a lighter. "One last hooray? We don't have to leave so quick."

They circled the fire pit behind the house just as the sun began to dip again. The breeze picked up, pulling strands of hair from Lana's ponytail as she pulled her hoodie tighter around her body.

The flames crackled in front of them, throwing orange shadows across their faces. Marshmallows were passed around without much intention to eat them. No one really wanted sugar — they just wanted time.

Dana sat between Jessica and Chandler, her knees tucked under her, her head lightly resting against his shoulder.

"I don't want to go back to school," Jessica said suddenly, her voice quiet. "Like... I know we're almost done, but everything feels so real now. Like too real."

Everyone nodded. Even Ethan.

"I thought I'd be more excited," Lana admitted. "College. Freedom. Starting fresh. But it's hitting me that... starting fresh means leaving something behind." She looked around at her group of friends and smiles. "So much of everything behind actually." There was a pause, and then she added more softly, "Like this. Like us." A pout spread across her face.

Dana turned to her, reading the sadness right on her face.

"I know you're allowed to be sad. We all are. Some of these relationships were a decade and some are only a few months old." She looked to Chandler for the last part. "But sometimes we all wish we had more time. Even though it's never promised. It'd be nice if it at least slowed down.

Lana swallowed hard. "It's more than that."

Everyone waited. No one pushed. The fire cracked and popped in the silence, like it was giving her time to find her words.

"I was so caught up in small stuff. For so long. When it finally did near its end, I thought I'd feel better — relieved even. But it feels like I was suddenly... vulnerable. Like I didn't know who I was and I'm not even sure I know what I want." Dana reached for her hand, squeezing it softly. "And watching you two," Lana nodded toward Dana and Chandler, "I wish it happened so sooner. I've never seen Dana in love... like ever. I want more of it. All of it. But now it's just gonna end. Just like that."

Jessica leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Girl, say that then."

Lana laughed, a little watery. "I don't want to chase small stuff anymore. I want something that feels like home. Like love, without all the panic."

Ethan quietly slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close without a word. He didn't need to say anything. That small act said enough.

Dana looked at her best friend — no longer trying to be the perfect girlfriend or the confident one in the group. Just her. Honest. Open. Brave.

"I think we're all trying to figure that out," Dana said. "What we want. What we deserve."

"I want to go to college and not worry about who I'm supposed to be," Lana added. "I want to start over — but for me this time."

"You will," Chandler said quietly. "You're already doing it."

A comfortable silence fell over the group. No one made eye contact. Just quietly lost in their own thoughts and the sounds of peace that engulfed them.

The fire burned lower, but no one stood up. The sky darkened, stars poking through in slow intervals like they were being drawn just for them.

Dana felt Chandler's thumb brush the back of her hand. She turned and looked at him; both smiling softly. They looked into each others eyes and shared a soft kiss. He kissed her temple and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you."

There were a million ways to say goodbye. There were even the goodbyes that should have never came. Ones where walking away felt like a permanent solution but something deeper came of it.

The kind of goodbye that no matter how many times it's said, that door stays open. So is it ever a real goodbye?