Belief

3.2

"I don't know why you are complaining," Grace jokes, helping me fold the pile of clothes on my floor, my closet now barren. "I would love to live in New York."

"Yeah, but not right before senior year, with a father you never speak too, and no friends," I roll my eyes, jamming the already folded clothes into my suitcase.

"There are so many places to go though," Grace shrugs, trying to find a happy side to my ever worsening problems. "Imagine all of the shopping."

I laugh, sorting through the diminishing pile of clothes that were yet to be packed. My eye catches a dark grey t-shirt. Sighing, I grab it, smoothing out the edges and folding it with extra care. Grace is eyeing me, a look of pity on her face.

"Do you think you guys will make it work?" She asks softly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I hope so," I bite the inside of my cheek. This is the question that had been nagging at me since last weekend when I ran out of Ashton's apartment. It all seemed easy when you said it out loud. Call me every night, FaceTime, once in a while visits. It sounded like it would work, but I think in the end we all know what is going to happen.

It's been affecting Ashton the most. Not that I blame him, we have been in daily contact for the past five years and by this time tomorrow I will be waving to him from the seat of a commercial airplane. Not even that, the boys' plane is leaving in the afternoon, and mine isn't leaving until night. I will be the one saying goodbye.

Everyone has been avoiding mentioning it. We have all made a silent pact to enjoy the time we have while we have it. There is no reason to spend your last moments living in the anxiety of future turmoil when you can be creating new moments to hold on to.

Everyday has consisted of some sort of fun time. There was go-carting, the beach, the arcade, bowling, the waterpark, and yesterday was a barbeque at Ashton's. The happy moments made me forget what was in store. It was a sweet escape.

Today I was forced out of my cave of denial and brought into the sunlight of the truth. The blinding, burning truth. Packing day is hell.

The sound of the doorbell awoke me from my thoughts. I place Luke's shirt neatly in my suitcase and lift myself off the ground.

"It's probably the moving trucks," I shrug at Grace. I wasn't expecting them for another few hours, but at this point I could care less. Grace just smiled smugly at the ground, continuing to fold as I ran downstairs.

Opening the door, there were no moving trucks in my driveway. Instead, there were four aussie boys attacking me in a group hug. My face was buried within their embrace, laughing against their chests. Stepping inside, they let go of me, their laughter filling the house, empty except for scattered piles of boxes.

"We weren't going to let you pack alone," Ashton rubbed my head, messing up my hair. "Our packing didn't take long."

"Well you are only going for three weeks," I give Ashton a push.

"Plus we basically just shoved all of our clothes into a bag," Calum smirked.

"We brought you some things too, but you have to wait," Luke mumbled, placing a box next to the front door.

Everyone walked up to my room, the walls that were once covered with smiling pictures of happy memories were now blank. All of my belongings stuffed in boxes. All that was left was my bed and half a pile of clothes. Grace and I sit down, beginning to fold at once.

Michael sprawled out on my bed, turning on the television and flicking through the channels until he landed on SpongeBob. Luke sat next to me, his knee softly grazing mine as he sat and watched me work, his eyes focused on my every detail, as if he was afraid I would disappear. Ashton attempted to fold a shirt, but gave up after a few seconds, throwing it into the pile.