Started With a Lie

Chapter Forty-Five

              Before I know it, it's orientation at college. I feel empty everyday. I wonder if it's serious. Mom hasn't made any changes since last time. Madam Jin has stayed out of my hair. Peter calls once in a while, actually. Both of us feel lonely. Him being in another state alone and me being alone surrounded by the same things and people yet somehow alone. Everyone's away for college or doing their own thing and managing their own lives. Once high school ends, it's different.

            "I'm going to miss you so much!" Candy says one night she's over. She's helping me pack. This week is the last week before classes start. The red in her hair has faded and now she's back to brown hair. Her style has changed. Now, she wears minimal makeup and elegant shirts with jeans. Is this what growing up is?

                 "Hey, you'll be too busy having fun at Cornell!" I tell her, reaching over to steal some popcorn from the big red bowl on her lap. Even though it's summer, we have blankets on blankets over us with the air conditioning cranked high. We're watching a horror movie. So much for packing.

                  "I'll be drowning in work," she says, sighing. "Why am I going to this school again? I worked my ass off to get to a good college and now that I got it, I have to maintain it to graduate college for a good job. Life just doesn't stop!"

                  "Preach it, sister," I agree.

                   "Promise we'll keep in touch and you'll come visit me and I'll come visit you," she says. It's highly unrealistic we'll see each other often. Our schools are three hours apart with Brownwood in the middle but more on the New York City side. But I believe in us.

                 "Of course," I promise because I really think we could make it, knowing us. We survived high school drama, didn't we?

                Screams and blood take over the television as the movie continues. Near the end, I feel Candy's shoulders shaking from crying and I know it's not from the movie. I end up crying too. We both sob silently, both of us not acknowledging the distance that'll be between us for the first time. I imagined this with Karen once. I always thought this would be us. But people lose their chances and there are always more people who deserve you and life truly goes on. Candace Jones has been a good best friend and even though we're both crying about how fast our lives are changing, I know everything will be all right.

                Somewhat, anyway.

I look at the house I've lived in for the better part of my life one last time.

                  It's not like I'm never going to come back. I am. It's not like I'm dying or the house is being sold. It's not. But this is the physical representation of me leaving and growing and becoming an adult. It scares me. It scares me so much. If you think about it, seventeen or eighteen or in my case, nineteen, is nothing. Your parents get such little time with you. You get such little time being carefree. I wish I did more things better. I wish I made my mother happier. Because even when she wakes up, and even when our lives return back to normal—which it will— it won't be the same as living with her.

                    Nothing is weirder than actually moving out. As a teenager, when you get angry or when you're mad at your parents, you say you'll move out. You say you'll move out fast as you can and you'll never turn back. Looking at it now, I don't want to leave.

                   I drag the suitcase out onto the porch.

                    It's goodbye for now.