nineteen: window sail

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"When?"

"Next Wednesday."

Me and Pete are sat on the ground of the alleyway. At first, I couldn't believe him. Then he explained that his mom thought he'd be better off if he went back to California with his grandparents, and that he didn't have a choice, and that he would have a better life there.

And maybe he will have a better life there.

But mine won't get any better without him in it.

I try not to shed any tears, but I know I'll be unsuccessful. "C-Can't you get out of it? Did you try talking to your mom? Who's idea was this?"

Pete sighed and looked down. "I've been reasoning with my mom and grandparents for the past two days. They won't budge."

I shake my head violently. "You aren't leaving."

"Yes, Patrick, I am."

I scramble for words. "Why are you giving up so easily? You don't have to move. You can hide in my house so they won't find you. My parents wouldn't say anything. Or we could leave, we could fill up your tank and pack a bag and just start driving-"

"Patrick." Pete stops me.

I know I'm in denial. But what else am I supposed to do? Let him pack his shit and leave me? "We have to do something." My voice cracks in the middle of the phrase.

"We can't do anything," Pete says lowly.

"Yes we can."

"Patrick, I'm leaving."

I look up fiercely. "Why didn't you tell us earlier? If you didn't ignore me for the past two days, we could've been spending our last week together, and instead you stumbling around all, 'woe is me!'"

"I didn't know how to react," Pete reasoned, "I didn't believe them. I didn't think it would matter because I didn't think I was actually moving."

"And when did you really believe them?"

"Once my mom started backing up boxes of my stuff for me. She shipped them out to California so they'd be waiting for me when I came. Patrick, my room is almost completely empty. There's no going back."

I put my head in my trembling hands. This is too much. Too much, too fast. I'm not ready for Pete to leave. I just got him back after ignoring him for years.

God dammit. Why'd I have to stay mad at him for so long? If we'd been spending the last three years together, maybe I'd be okay. But I can't do this right now. I can't do this. I can't do this.

"I can't do this!" I shout unwillingly. Pete looks at me with worried eyes.

He reaches forward and pushes my hair back from my face. "There's nothing to do," he tells me softly.

I look him dead in the eye as tears escape my eyes. "You can't leave me." I whisper.

He sits forward and embraces me. I put my arms around him and hold as tight as I can. "I'm never letting you go, Pete."

I don't realize until now how much Pete has helped me in the past. Mainly in middle school, he'd always been the one to stand up for me when other students were mean to me. He'd share his notes with me and let me copy off his homework when I didn't have time to finish my own. We'd sit at lunch alone together every day.

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