Wind

• • T H R E E • •

"That sounds great. You look nice, Lydia."

"Thank you." She leaned her delicate hands on the laminate countertop and blushed again. Her fine, blonde hair framed her features perfectly, and her bright, blue eyes lit up her entire face. "You look good too, Harper."

"Thank you."

We both paused, neither one of us knowing what to say next. I wondered when we'd become strangers.

"I already set the table." Lydia finally broke the silence. "Are you ready to eat now?"

"Sure." I followed her into the dining room where she'd set two places. I was pretty sure what looked like spaghetti was actually some sort of shredded up zucchini impostor, but I hadn't eaten at lunch. I was starving and would have eaten dog food if that's what Lydia had been serving.

We sat down across from each other, and Lydia poured us each a glass of red wine. We toasted. It tasted terrible, but then again I don't like wine so it might have actually been really nice stuff. I just couldn't tell.

"Harper, I wanted to talk to you about something." Lydia twirled some of the faux-pasta around the end of her fork.

My stomach lurched.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to play cool. I took another sip of the terrible wine and poked at the zucchini with mystery sauce, trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. I'd suddenly lost my appetite.

"Harper." She was asking me to look at her, so I turned my eyes up to meet hers. "I'm serious about moving to New York."

"I met this strange guy at the gas station the other night..." my mouth started to change the subject without input from my brain—like if I avoided the conversation long enough, the whole thing would go away.

"Harper, I want to talk about this. Please don't change the subject again."

I clutched my fork tighter in my hand, my knuckles turning white. "When are you leaving?"

"I've already started looking at apartments, looking at jobs. I accepted an offer for a position as a waitress."

"When?"

"I'm thinking of leaving next week."

Lydia paused here for almost a minute, staring at me for an uncomfortably long time. She was waiting for me to offer to go with her. I know that now—that's exactly what she was waiting for me to say. She didn't want to ask me because she wanted me to want to go. She wanted me to decide on my own.

But I didn't offer to go with her. The idea that I could leave too didn't seem to exist in my head at the time. It was out of the realm of possibility. Instead of offering to go, I said this: "Will you visit?"

She paused again here. "Harper, I'm not coming back." Her voice was practically a whisper.

My whole body started to shake. I'd known this was coming. I'd known she was going to leave, but somehow, it actually happening had a greater effect on me than I'd anticipated. My eyes burned hot, like tears were building behind them.

"So that's it then?" I finally asked. "We're done?"

Lydia bit her bottom lip and nodded.