The Swailing

Maine: Goodbye

Camden takes us to a diner close to where he goes to school. It's packed with teenagers who all greet him enthusiastically. He holds the door for Finn and I, letting us go in first. He greets just about everyone, bumps fists with some of the guys, gently touches the girls' arms. Everyone seems to adore him and already I can see why. However my mom has raised him, he's turned out to be someone I want to be friends with.

We eat and talk and I'm amazed at how comfortable I feel with Camden. I don't remember anything about our first three years together, but it's as if that time together built some kind of bond between us that even 14 years apart hasn't broken.

Camden and Finn get along great, which makes me happier than I would've guessed. They have the same patient and relaxed demeanor, the same sarcastic sense of humor, even a bit of the same accent.

By the time we finish eating, I feel calmer and ready to face my parents again. I'm still angry when I think about what they've done, but my initial fire has simmered down and I think I'll be able to look at them again without wanting to punch them both in the face.

We return to the house to find my mom and dad sitting at the kitchen table, talking. They both look up at the same time. My dad looks at me, my mom at Camden, each trying to read the child they know best.

I clear my throat. "Okay, so ... this isn't over. I'm not ready to forgive you both yet."

"Me neither," Camden chimes in.

I smile at him for not making me look like the bad guy, and then turn back to my parents. "But, I guess we have to start somewhere."

They both nod in agreement.

"But I really need a shower and ... maybe one of those cookies." I point to a jar on the counter that is filled with them. Literally FILLED with them!

My mom and dad exchange a look – a secret, understanding look that I suppose they gave each other all the time back when they were together – and seem to relax. I glance at Finn and he shakes his head at me, smiling. I shrug back. I've learned one thing for sure: when everything is falling apart, sometimes a cookie helps.

Later, after Finn and I are both showered and my mom is making dinner and my dad and Camden are out for a walk, when the tension has died down and my family is actually starting to feel a little like a family – albeit a dysfunctional one – Finn pulls me aside in the living room.

"Ember," he says quietly. "I should probably go."

I shake my head. "No, you can stay here. Camden said you could sleep in his room."

"No, I know," he says, and he runs his hands down my arms, stopping when he gets to my fingers. He tangles his with mine. "I know I can stay here. But you need time alone with your family. And I need to go figure out everything with the farm. I just ..."

"Oh. Right." I try to make my voice light. "No, sure. You've got stuff to deal with, too."

I leave my hands in his, but their sudden lifelessness must give away my disappointment. Finn studies my face for a minute, trying to read me. I force a smile and look down because I'm afraid he'll see that I don't want him to go and I don't want to be someone who keeps him from doing what he needs to do. Not after he went so far out of his way to help me do what I needed to do.

While Finn thanks my parents, shakes Camden's hand and gives him one of those one-armed half hugs that guys do, I go out to get any of my remaining things from his car. It's been our home for two weeks and even my meager belongings have managed to spread themselves around. I take what's left of my money – still a pretty good wad – and shove it into the glove compartment. I know he won't take it if I offer, but he'll find it eventually, hopefully sooner than later. Maybe it will help.

I wait for him by his car, leaning against the door, feeling suddenly heavy and incredibly sad. Our rambling and adventure-filled road trip has been the best two weeks in my life and the thought of being without him for even a minute makes me feel like I might crumble to dust right on the sidewalk. It seems ridiculous that I feel so dependent on him after such a short time.

When he comes out he stops in front of me and just looks at me again. I sense he's still trying to figure me out, so I try to keep my voice light.

"Thank you, Finn. For just ... everything. I never would have made it here without you." It sounds stupid after I say it – all businesslike and dry. What I really want to say is Don't leave, I love you, you've changed everything.

He just tilts his head and says, "You never give yourself enough credit."

I shrug and he pulls me into his arms. I try not to cling to him, but I can't help it. His coat is balled up in my fists and I swallow hard, trying to force down the lump in my throat.

"I'll come back, okay? Once I get everything straightened out I'll come back."

I nod against his shoulder, wanting to believe him. But something about our relationship suddenly feels temporary. Like maybe it only made sense in his car, on the road.

He pulls away from me and tries to look me in the eyes, but I can't quite meet his.

"Hey," he says, and tilts my chin up with his hand. "I will."

I nod again, and he kisses me softly once.

It's a nice kiss, tender and sweet. A goodbye kiss. But if this is going to be our last one, I want it to be more than that. So I grab the front of his coat in a way that feels oddly familiar, and I pull him closer and kiss him again. I slide my fingers up his chest and into his hair and I kiss him like we kissed in the car earlier. Hungry and eager. Like it's the start of something instead of the end of something.

He kisses me back, pulling me against him. I feel an urgency, a warmth, a hunger building between us again. I want to feel his skin against mine, I want to explore him and let him explore me. I want more.

When I finally pull away, I do it only because it's too frustrating, too difficult to kiss him when I feel like this. We can't get close enough with winter coats and sad goodbyes between us.

He looks at me, his eyes confused and a little sad but also ... hungry. Like Laser looked at me that night at Sabine's house. He looks like he wants to say something else, but I just shake my head and open the car door for him, like he always does for me.

And after a moment he gets in the car, I close the door behind him, and he drives away.