Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Alex

I ROLL UP MY last T-shirt and stuff it in my bag. I look around my childhood bedroom. I made the bed. My laptop rests in its case. There isn't so much as a sock remaining.

There's nothing left here for me.

I heft my duffel bag onto my shoulder. It isn't heavy. I only brought enough clothing for one week here, plus my work things. I'm leaving with exactly what I arrived with. No souvenirs. No mementos. Except perhaps the ones that will live in my memory, the ones Henry gifted me with.

It stings to remember how we parted last night. I thought we'd get one final night together, a few hours where we could forget about everything but each other. It kills me to know Henry was already too hurt for that. I hope today is better for him, but I'm not going to ask. I'm not going to make it worse by bothering him. Better for me to leave.

Toward that end, I exit my little childhood bedroom for what I hope is the last time in my life. My parents wait in the living room, and unfortunately my little sister Carly hasn't arrived to pick me up yet. She graciously offered to drive me to the airport so I wouldn't have to order a rideshare — or ask our parents.

"So, you're really going, huh?" Dad says.

He sits on the couch, a beer beside him. I would mention that he probably shouldn't be drinking, but it seems like a pointless opportunity for conflict. My mother bustles into the living room from the kitchen. She shakes her head. I speak before she can.

"Carly will be here soon to pick me up," I say. "Can we just say goodbye nicely?"

"I don't know, Alexander, can we?" Mom says. "All we wanted was a little help around the house while your father recovers, and here you are storming off and throwing a tantrum."

I don't know what to do but sigh. We have minutes left together, and she's using them to scold me.

"Dad," I say, changing my focus, "I hope you feel better. Keep resting up like the doctors said, okay? They said you should be fine if you take it easy."

My father waves away my advice, like having a heart attack is an annoyance he can swat aside. "I've spent enough time sitting around."

"No you don't," my mother cuts in. "The doctors said you should be resting. Of course, that would be easier if we had help."

"Mom, come on, I've been here a week longer than I planned," I say. "I'm going to get fired if I stay. And we're at each other's throats every day. Is this really helping Dad at all?"

"No, you're right. Of course. You're always right. I'll send your father out to mow the lawn."

The lawn I just mowed, I might remind her. I bite down on the words. I don't have the energy for yet another argument while my heart's aching from last night. I should be sharing this goodbye with Henry, promising we'll keep in touch, kissing him one final time. Instead, I'm going through the same damn fight I've been mired in since the second I arrived.

Henry is right. They are trying to control my life. They are pressuring me to live the way they want. I have to get away from it. It's the only thing that's ever made it stop.

It didn't hurt last time I ran like this.

The realization startles me. When I was eighteen and escaped to go to college in California, I left nothing behind. I didn't miss a single thing about Tripp Lake. I thought I was leaving for good, and that didn't bother me at all. Yet today I hesitate, a hook buried in my chest, tugging harder every time I make a move toward the door.

Henry. It's Henry. That pull in my chest is because of him.

Unlike the first time I escaped Tripp Lake, this time I do have something worth staying for.

Mom is still going at me when a honk sounds outside. She narrows her eyes at the front windows, like my sister's arrival is a rude interruption.

"I have to go," I say.

"You're really doing this?" Mom says. "You're really going to abandon your father like this?"

I exhale a long sigh. "Yes, Mom. I am."

Then I leave their house, hopefully for the last time.

Mom yells something after me as I make my way to my sister's car, but I ignore her. I toss my bag onto Carly's backseat, then get into the passenger side of the car. The moment I close the door and cut off the sound of my mother's voice, I let out a held breath.

"Hey," Carly says. "Ready to go?"

"You have no idea."

"I might have some idea."

Carly backs out of the driveway. I don't truly relax until she turns onto the next street over and our parents' house disappears behind us. I check the mirrors, but it's truly, completely gone. Something heavy lifts off my shoulders.

"Thanks for giving me a lift," I say. "I didn't mind getting a rideshare."

"It's fine," Carly says. "I have time. Besides, I didn't get to see you much during your trip. This way we get to spend some time together."

It's a decent drive down I-5 to get from here to SeaTac Airport. We've got more than an hour to spend catching up, and I'm kind of looking forward to it. Not only is Carly a welcome break from our parents, but she might help me keep my mind off of Henry. I just know that the second I let my thoughts wander, they'll drift to him.

"How was the trip?" Carly says.

I groan, and she laughs.

"I'm sorry," Carly says. "I had to ask, didn't I? Don't worry. I can guess how it went. Mom was texting me all the time asking what was wrong with you. I told her ‘nothing,' for the record."

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

Carly shrugs as she pulls onto the highway and speeds up to join the traffic flowing southward toward Seattle. "It's fine. I get it. I'm their kid too, even if they were always way harder on you. To be honest, I was surprised when you said you were coming back for this."

"I felt bad. With Dad's heart attack and all…"

"I know, I know. But the doctors said he was doing fine when they sent him home. Even that relapse wasn't as bad as it could have been. They'll be okay. They didn't need to put all of this on you. You were being nice, and they acted like you weren't doing enough."

I prop my elbow on the passenger side armrest and settle my chin in my palm, staring at the buildings and tress flashing by outside the window.

"But hey," Carly says, "I'm glad you're leaving. Not because I don't want you here, of course. I'm just happy to see you taking care of yourself. They're way too hard on you. I try to tell them to lay off, but it's hard to make them do anything. Stubborn asses."

I startle back up, gaping at my sister. Her shoulders shake as she laughs. I can't help it. I join right in, and soon both of us are laughing at our parents, filling her car with the cackle of bitter joy.

"Thanks," I say when we calm down. "Thanks for trying to stick up for me. I'm the older sibling. I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

Carly shoots me a glance before turning her focus back to the highway. "You take care of everyone except yourself, Alex. It's okay for someone to have your back once in a while."

"You sound like…"

I stop myself. Because the end of that sentence is "Henry." She sounds like Henry, telling me to take care of myself, telling me I deserve to be happy.

"Like what?" Carly says.

"Nothing," I say. "A friend said something similar recently. That's all."

I'm a good liar — thank you, law profession — and Carly doesn't poke at the word "friend."

"That's a good friend," she says instead.

Heh. Yeah. A very good friend. Better than she'll ever know.

"You should listen to them," she continues. "They're right. You should let people stick up for you if they want to, especially if they have personal experience with how overbearing our parents are. They take advantage of you, Alex. I'm happy to see you taking care of yourself for once."

"Technically, this is the second time. I also ran away after high school."

"You know what I mean," Carly says. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. The point is, you're getting out, as you should. It's not like you have any reason to stay in Tripp Lake."

A couple weeks ago, I would agree whole-heartedly with that statement. Today, however… Today, my mind wanders to a pair of achingly blue eyes, to messy red-brown hair, to a smile that no amount of gray Seattle weather can dim.

The silence stretches. I realize too late that I should have agreed, but have instead sat here saying and doing nothing. Carly shoots me another quick glance.

"You don't have a reason to stay in Tripp Lake, right?" she says. "I know Mom and Dad tried to set you up on a date, but I heard it was a disaster."

"It was a disaster."

"There is a ‘but' that comes after that that you aren't saying. Alex?"

I don't know what to tell her. The "but" is that I went home with Henry that night, and it was incredible, and I went back again after that. The "but" is that if I'd met him anywhere but Tripp Lake, being with him would be a no-brainer. I stay quiet, watching the exit signs as they begin to announce the approach of the airport. Once I arrive, once I step out of this car, any "buts" won't matter. I'll be too far away. Henry and I will be a bittersweet memory. Nothing more.

Carly doesn't push, but the silence is thick enough to taste as she takes the exit for SeaTac and pulls into the flow of traffic drifting toward the arrivals gates. We make it to my airline, but Carly doesn't rush me out of the car, even when she parks along the curb. People bustle around us, rushing to their flights, dragging luggage behind them, digging for tickets and driver's licenses. Everyone is in such a hurry except me.

"Alex," Carly says, "should I pull away from this curb? I don't know what's going on, but I would have expected you to jump out of the car by now, and you're not. You're kind of freaking me out."

I'm freaking myself out. What the hell am I doing hesitating? Henry is gone. We said our goodbyes. We can't be together in that town. I have my job and my life in San Francisco. I can't run around in the forest with him in Tripp Lake. It's impossible. It's ridiculous. It's…

"Do you want to go home to San Francisco?" Carly says. "Alex, are you okay?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. I should know, and I don't. Carly, I'm so sorry. I…"

"If you need to talk, it's okay. We can go talk. I can hide you in my dorm room or something. Mom and Dad will think you left, I swear."

"I can't do that. My job. My apartment."

A traffic officer blows his whistle at us, waving angrily for us to get moving, but I can't drag myself out of Carly's car. I can't take that step that will forever separate me from Henry.

"Carly, I—"

Hands slap against the passenger side window. I jump; Carly squeaks. My eyes fly wide when I make sense of who's banging on the glass.

It's Henry.

"Alex, please, can we talk?"