My Heart's Choice (On Hold)

Chapter 54

It has been three days after I met Mason at the park. My mind is blank. That is all that I can figure out about it.

The house is silent, with Mom and Dad gone out to talk to Mom's friends in the neighborhood. To tell them that tomorrow morning we would be gone. Everything downstairs is packed to be moved, and half of my room is already empty.

I know that in a different situation a million things would be going on in my mind, but right now it is blank. Numb.

Maybe, Mason is right. He must be. I am stupid. I am definitely stupid for someone with straight A's.

My heart gives a nasty jolt at the thought of him. The image of his green eyes watching me, materialize in my mind. Gosh, he is so handsome.

My throat tightens like someone wrapped an arm around it. Mason is so perfect. Maybe, I don't deserve him. That must be why fate so badly wants me to go away.

I rub at my eyes and push Mason to the back of my mind. I should try to forget about him. I wonder if he is thinking the same. I wonder if he thinks that he should forget me too.

I pick up a novel that Nora has left on the floor and toss it onto my bed , where it slaps onto a pile of other novels, waiting to be sorted.

Dad suggested that maybe I should donate some of my books to the library. He can always buy me new ones in New York, he said.

I pull another set of novels from a drawer at my desk and set them on my bed.

Behind me, the window rattles. I don't have to turn around to know that it is Nora.

"It's open," I say pulling yet another set of books out of the drawer.

A soft thud echoes behind me and the window closes shut.

"What's going on, Gosh is that-" Nora grabs a novel off the top of my bed and stares at it wide-eyed.

She flips the book in my direction so that I can see the cover, "How come you never told me that you had this?"

Tossing a few more books out of my drawer onto my bed, I look up to see what book she is talking about.

It's a murder mystery that I vaguely remember reading, years ago.

She holds her wide-eyed look for effect. Her red curls are wild as ever, but today she has attempted to tame them with a hairband.

"What's with your hair today," I ask, ignoring her question.

"My question first," she insists, her earth-like eyes zeroing in on me.

I heave a long sigh, proceeding to massage the bridge of my nose, "You can keep it if you want."

"Thanks," she chimes brightly ogling the book in her hands.

And just like that she slumps onto the floor beside me and immediately begins reading it.

The room falls silent for a few minutes.

Making sure that all my books are piled on top of my bed, I settle down at the center, beginning to sort through them.

"So," I say to Nora, "what's with your hair?"

Even without Nora's skeptical look, I know that I sound like I'm back from a funeral.

If she picks up my dull mood, she decides to ignore it. I know that she can see right through me, and it bothers me. But there is nothing I can do about it. Biting the inside of my cheek, I listen to her go on about how her mom had wanted her to at least look more presentable before coming over to see me.

"This is so helpful actually, now I don't have to bother about strands of hair getting in my mouth, you know," she says.

Silence endures for a bit too long before I can manage to say, "That's great," with a smile.

Nora's face falls slightly. I can tell that she knows I'm faking it.

She watches me while I begin to sort the books on my bed into two piles. I can feel her piercing gaze on me, but I pretend that it does not bother me.

A book snaps shut and Nora gets to her feet, "I can leave if you want me to."

Her voice is so soft that it scares me for a moment. I look up at her as she approaches the foot of my bed, concern etched all over her face.

"No...," I shake my head not knowing what exactly to say to her.

"It's okay Dana, I can come back later," she smiles and makes her way towards the window.

"No, wait! Nora, wait," my voice sounds hoarse, but I continue nevertheless, "Please...stay."

She turns around, slowly shutting the window which she has already opened.

"Please," I say again, which comes out as a whisper.

I feel like hitting myself over my head, for sounding so vulnerable. But when Nora flops onto the spot she had just vacated and continues reading the book, it feels a little like the whole thing never happened. And I embrace the whole thought wanting to believe that it never actually happened.

I don't want Nora think that I don't like going to New York. She probably knows. Or maybe not. She moved around a lot and that does not bother her at all. For a moment, I thought that Dad would magically change his mind. But here we are - packing.

Mom received an email from a company in New York last night. For a tiny fraction of a second, I prayed that it was a rejection letter. But how the heck can I be so selfish? She deserves this. All of this.

So when she squealed in joy over her new position, I slowly made my way to my room and locked the door. It was all permanent now. No going back.

I pick up Jane Eyre from the pile on my bed. My fingers are numb and the book suddenly feels like it weighs a ton. Caressing the cover, I run a finger across the title.

As if someone tipped a jug of water over my head, memories of my tutoring sessions flow through my mind. Mason scowling at the novel, his eyes looking lost than ever. His thick brows furrowed together unable to figure out how the heck students are expected to write long essays in one day.

The bed dips beside me, and a pair of warm hands wrap around me. Nora's head settles on my shoulders.

Jane Eyre blurs. I don't realize that my face is scrunched up until Nora whispers in my ear, "Don't hold it in. Let it go..."

A loud sob echoes in the silent room. Then another. And another.

Nora says nothing as she holds onto me.

I don't want to go.

I don't want to go...

Please...let me stay.

I don't want to go.