No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

milkshakes and one last jacket swap before the plane ride

The sketchbook I gave her is the one with all the doodles of her in it. I also wrote a letter for her on one of the pages, just for her to look at and read through when she needs comfort.

I moved a lot when I was in middle school, and didn't make a lot of friends. Those I did make were temporary, and I hadn't gotten too attached to them. Still, it would've been nice to have something like what I gave Annabelle, to help remember that I wasn't completely alone.

The best gifts are things you know firsthand what it's like to need.

We just sit side by side, listening to the music we fell in love to. I pulled my legs up into criss-cross applesauce, and my knee is touching her thigh.

I've always loved long car rides, and through the dirty windshield I can see the sun peeking out from behind a mass of gray cloud.

I look over at Annabelle in the driver's seat.

It still hasn't registered that she's leaving. I won't see her in person, cuddle her, kiss her, feel her heartbeat against my chest.

I really don't want it to sink in, either.

I'll just soak up as much of the sight of her cute freckles and squishy nose and curly hair and warm eyes as I can.

When her hand relaxes on the gear shift I scoop it up and start rubbing gentle circles into the back of it with my thumb.

"Oh, also I stole a pair of your overalls," I mention, just remembering.

"Hmm," she says, nodding. A couple curls escape their bun and bounce with her head. "Good. They look cute on you, especially since you have to roll up the bottoms. I have more than one pair, so that's fine."

"Just thought I should inform you."

A couple moments pass.

"Have you met your host family?"

"I've talked to them over Skype. They're lovely," she says, smiling.

"Who all's there?"

"The mom's Ellen, the dad's Paul, the son — I think he's a high school senior — is Andrew. Apparently Paul makes really good carrot cake, so I'll be good on the food front."

"So they're worthy of taking care of you?"

"I certainly hope so," she teases. "Otherwise I'll have to come back and just get a house with you, so you can take care of me."

"Ooh, I can see it now. Quiet and tucked away. Maybe we can share it with Jenna and Jacob after we're all married. I know J wants a cat. You're not allergic to cats, right?"

"Nope."

"Okay. That's good. I know Jacob would want a rocking chair, and we'd have to have a nice bath."

"Wait a second," she says sharply.

"What?" I turn to look at her, a bit worried.

"Promise me you won't grow too much while I'm back? I don't wanna get home and not be able to rest my chin on top of your head. If you grow I won't be able to hug you."

"At all?" I pout at her.

"At all."

"I'll just drink a ton of caffeine, then. I like your hugs."

"Okay," she says, breathing an exaggerated sigh of relief through a joking smile. "Oh, and I'll want a rocking chair."

"What?"

"In our house."

"Oh. Okay."

"And a really big closet. We have a lot of clothes between us, and I don't like using dressers."