All The Places We Used To Go

Chapter 1: Nate

ONE | NATE 

“I’m leaving.”

For a moment, I was caught off-guard. “What? But you just got in the car.”

Faye laughed. “No, you idiot. I got a scholarship to Kingston University. I’m flying out to London in three weeks for early freshman orientation…”

I felt as if I were in one of those movies where everything is moving in slow motion. My hands felt like lead on the steering wheel of the car. She was speaking beside me; her lips and hands were moving, but the words didn’t seem to be making their way to my brain.

 “Wow, that’s great,” I told her mechanically, only because it sounded like the right thing to say. “That’s a pretty long way off, though. When are you getting back?”

“I’m not really sure, it’s a new place with new people and new things to see. I may never come back.”

I looked at her in alarm. She seemed to notice my unease and smiled playfully at me. “Come on, Nate, I’m just pulling your leg. I’ll miss this old dump too much not to pay it a visit once in a while.”

This old dump will miss you too, I thought, but didn’t dare to say out loud.

She was still talking.

“Kingston is the world’s top one school for journalism. State-of-the-art facilities, the greatest professors, and a really active student body…it’s got everything I’ve always wanted.”

At that moment, something inside me snapped.

“Are you really just going to leave everything behind?” The words left my mouth tasting like acid, but they wouldn’t stop coming out. “This is a pretty big decision. You’ve built a life here at Northfield. What about your family? What about your friends?” A small voice at the back of my head quietly added, What about me?

When she turned to face me, her face was a mix of confusion and hurt. “This is all I’ve ever dreamed of.”   

This was how Faye had always been, all talk of the future and getting out. She was the girl with big plans and even bigger dreams who felt suffocated by small-town life, the girl who would stick wings to her arms and fly out of this place the first chance she got.

I almost regretted trying to stop her. Almost.

I pulled the car to a stop in front of the coffee shop where we were meeting our friends. Faye jumped out of the car and I followed behind her, dragging my feet. When we made our way inside, Amber, Ian, and James were already sitting at the corner table by the window, laughing boisterously over something on Ian’s phone.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Faye beamed at everyone.

Amber immediately scooted over to make room for her. She looked at both of us reprovingly. “You’re late! We’ve already gotten you your favorites. An americano for Nate, and a mocha frappe for Faye.”

“It’s not my fault Nate drives so slowly,” Faye stuck her tongue out at me childishly.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything in reply. Faye seemed a little put out by this show of dismissiveness, but I was still too angry to talk to her. No, angry wasn’t the right word – more of hurt, offended, disappointed…heartbroken.

Faye made her big announcement. Each one reacted differently to hearing the news. Amber looked like she was about to cry, her hand already instinctively reaching for the tissues at the end of the table. Ian coughed and choked on the coffee he was drinking. James’s fork remained suspended, halfway to his mouth that was open in surprise.

After a second of shock, there was an explosion of protests and arguments and tears. The same things were repeated: How could you do this to us? When are we ever going to see you again? Faye fielded questions calmly, like an army general prepared for the onslaught, but when I caught her eye for a second, I knew that as much as we were hurting, she was hurting a little, too. And maybe it made me a horrible person to think this, but I felt a little vindictive kind of happiness knowing that she still felt something, because that meant there was still a sliver of hope that she could decide to stay.

Amidst all the confusion, I realized that I was the first one in our group of friends whom Faye had told about her plans, which should have made me feel better, but in reality didn’t soften the blow.  

She was leaving, and there was nothing I could do about it.