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Amelia West

May 10th - 18 years old

7 Months Later

    The lines of the wood desk are looking very interesting now.

I am sitting in our senior English course and all I can do is look at the way the wood desk's lines curve apart from each other and move back together again. Kind of like the sky in The Starry Night.

Mrs. Hoffman is speaking, but...

It's Monday and graduation is on Saturday, so this week is just filled with last-minute college advice from teachers and lots of goodbyes to classmates.

I checked out of school a few months ago. I kept my grades up, surprisingly, even though I didn't listen in class, stopped sucking up to teachers, and stayed away from fake girls.

I also stayed away from Cameron Phillips.

That night in October killed a part of both of us. Maybe it killed our childhood.

But right now, I am looking at Cam from across this English class and he looks how I feel.

Empty.

We haven't talked since the night in the parking lot. The only time we even got close enough to speak was on Valentine's Day when our families got together. This year we went to The Phillip's place because Cam's dad, Sebastian, was too sick to leave the house. Our families try to get together more than once a year, but with both of my parents being surgeons, Cam's mom being an attorney, and his dad being sick, the only day that we usually all get together is February 14th.

Of course, Cam's mom, Marie, and my mom, Cecilia, get together more often than that because they have been there for each other since freshman year.

Their relationship is like Meredith's and Christina's from Grey's Anatomy.

They are the blueprint for all friendships.

Cam and I were raised to have a relationship just like our mom's, but then we realized that we were pushed towards each other and I guess it was "fake," or at least that is what I have been telling myself these past 7 months.

I mean, a true friend doesn't say the things that Cameron threw in my face.

I raise my head from my desk and I see Cameron across the room. He hasn't made an effort to talk to me in months.

He is like a statue sitting in the back corner. The eyes that I knew are now cold and quiet.

He is sitting in a dark, red sweater and cargo pants. Even though it's only been a few months, I can tell that he's grown.

I can tell that he's also checked out, but we both have always been hardworking in school. My mom told me that Cameron got into Boston College and he's studying literature there, his dream school and profession.

I'm proud of him.

I'm going to NYU to study journalism, my dream school and job.

I got into New York University in the middle of February and I was dancing-around-my-room happy. Told my parents and my sister, Ashlynn, but...

I didn't tell Cameron. It would have been weird if I just went up to him and told him after not speaking for so long. And it's not like he told me about Boston.

We are separating.

Not just taking time away from each, but choosing to be apart. Living our lives without each other. I have seen him throughout the hallways these past months and no, we don't speak, but it gives me comfort that I have seen his face mature a little. His hands hold a different book each time. His hair looks a little longer throughout each glance of him that I have. No one would notice the slight changes that 7 months makes on a person, but when you used to be with them all of the time, you can.

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