Let Go

Chapter 1-Sunsets

"It was here two seconds ago, I swear!"

"Yeah, well it's not here anymore and we're now late to our own party." Maya stood at the other end of the room, her hands on her hips and her cap already fastened to her head.

"Ugh, just help me look."

"April, I've been looking. Your cap isn't here."

"I swear-AHA I FOUND IT!"

"Congrats, now get it on your big head before your mother leaves you without a head to put it on." She crossed the room with the tin of bobby pins, taking two out and handing them to me as I fitted the cap to my head once more.

"Ready?"

"Only if you are." As if graduation itself wasn't tiring enough, I still had to get through my grad party. Granted, the attention would be split between Maya and I, but the prospect of having to explain that I'd be going to school for journalism, not law, left me less than excited. She slipped her hand into mine as we exited my bedroom and headed to the kitchen where the party was held. Upon arrival, the two of us were met with a slew of "Congratulations!" and "Can't wait to see what comes next!" and grabby relatives eager to pinch our cheeks and ask us what we wanted out of life. Sooner than we'd entered the kitchen we were separated, forced to brave the onslaught of questions and hugs by ourselves. Our parents were too occupied beaming with pride to save us now.

Nearly an hour into the party, three aunts had cried over baby pictures, two (drunk) uncles had gotten into heated political debates, and I was ready to call it quits.

"Will there be any cute boys in your class?" asked my notoriously nosy Tia Carmen.

"I don't know, Tia—"

"You should try to date the ones in the business department. I'm sure they come from good families, if you know what I mean." She winked one over-lined eye.

"I know what you mean, Tia."

"Carmen, just because you're a gold digger doesn't mean April has to be." I breathed a sigh of relief thinking Cousin Cece had come to my rescue, only for her to push me off the plank herself. "Besides, I'm sure April has enough to deal with, don't you? Aren't you leaving someone behind?" I nearly choked on my drink.

"No, definitely not, Cousin Cece—"

"Ooh is it forbidden love? If you don't want your mom to find out, I'm great at keeping—"

"It's okay, Cece, I have nothing to—"

"I can't believe you're going to that socialist brainwashing camp you people call Columbia. What's wrong with UT?" Uncle Dave butted in, I could've sworn he was talking up Maya's aunt two seconds ago...

"Uncle, they rejected me—"

"You should've applied to more conservative places, who knows what they'll have you writing about there!"

"I was actually looking for a liberal program—" my sentence trailed off, leaving Cece and Uncle Ted to debate the importance of journalism in society. Maya waved at me from across the room, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded sheepishly, assuring her that I could handle myself but that I'd rather be anywhere else in the world. This was not convincing enough for her, prompting her to create a diversion to save me.

"Okay! Who wants cake?" The crowd of tipsy relatives and family friends cheered and began flocking towards the dining room, where Maya's mom was probably panicking at the prospect of serving dessert. Cake was the one redeeming quality of this godforsaken party, and right now, a welcome reprieve from the chaos.

I pushed through the crowd to the head of the table where Maya was waiting for me, one hand fixing her cap (which had probably come loose from all the hugs) and the other pulling out a chair for me. I reached my destination just as the crowd began a lively rendition of "She's a Jolly Good Fellow" and Maya conducted them as though they were a Sunday School choir, equal parts entertained and distressed by the varying choices of key. Our mothers teamed up to hand out cake, and the crowd dispersed to eat and continue reminiscing on the days I was small enough to pass around like a very convincing baby doll. I could hear my mother consoling Tia Carmen, telling her "There are still three months to go. She'll be back for breaks, these first four months will go by in a flash!" My stomach knotted at the sound of my imminent departure, but I didn't have enough time to settle into my own meltdown as Maya nudged my shoulder with my piece of cake.

We sat in silence as we ate, backs slumped against the chairs and legs sprawled out between us. Even after we finished we just sat there, relishing in the small bubble of familiarity we'd created in this house full of near strangers. She smiled as she pushed her plate back onto the table, nothing but icing left. I held onto my own empty plate; if the relatives thought I was still eating, perhaps I'd be granted a few more moments of quiet. Maya reached out with one hand to take the plate from my hands, and though I initially resisted, I let her take it. The relatives now seemed too distracted at the showing of my old dance videos to bother us, Maya's gesture nothing but a reassurance that our bubble was still intact . I smiled back, noticing a mischievous glint in her eye at the same time her fingers hit my cheek with a smear of frosting.

"Maya!"

Feigning innocence, she gave me a shrug of her shoulders, her smug smile only disappearing long enough for her to give a high-pitched "What?"

I reached for my own plate and gave her a taste of her own (albeit, very sweet) medicine, eliciting a surprised gasp and another glob of frosting to the face.

"April you're gonna ruin my makeup!" she chided, only annoyed that she'd have to use another swipe of her favorite lipstick.

"You already ruined mine, it's only fair." She raised her frosting-covered hands in surrender. Then, with a lowered voice asked,

"Wanna get out of here?" You read my mind.

"I thought you'd never ask."

----

After a brief trip to the bathroom and an escape worthy of a criminal mastermind, Maya and I sped down the street with the windows down and Top 40's radio blaring through the speakers. I didn't take my foot off the gas until I knew we were far enough away; if my mother realized I'd left before I was too far to turn back, she'd make me turn around and I'd be reprimanded, making me the center of attention once more. I stole glances of Maya singing along and dancing in the passenger seat, my hands firm on the wheel. Just have to get where I'm going, get there alive, and we could finally celebrate like we'd planned all those years ago in that giant pink tent we could've sworn was our whole world.

I pulled in, antsy to get to the top of The Spot before the last bits of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains. Maya hopped out and took off, leaving me scrambling for my keys to the sound of her feet hitting the rocks and sand. I locked my car and took off after her, and soon we were perched on the wooden fence that's been there for years, overlooking the valley we'd grown up in and a brilliant splattering of oranges and pinks across the clear sky. She took a breath, filling her lungs with the almost-mountain air before reaching out to interlace her fingers with mine.

"Congrats dummy, never thought you'd make it," she said.

I shoved her playfully with my other hand, she laughed it off and fixed her eyes back on the horizon. "I'm proud of you, dummy."

"I'm proud of you too, Maya." I turned my head to look at the sunset reflected in her eyes, noticing her lipstick matched the pinkest bits of sky. She squeezed my hand and I turned back towards what would soon just be my hometown, just be the place I returned to.

"Three months to go."

She shook her head and scrunched her nose, not taking her eyes off the setting sun. "Don't remind me."

"Plenty of time, don't worry." I could feel the lie sting my lips as I rested my head on her shoulder. The last bit of daylight melted away, a cool breeze rustling the skirts of our dresses, and leaving us cold with the reality of another day gone. Plenty of time, I told myself, plenty of time.