peaches | fillie

fifteen

4 o'clock in the afternoon on another sweltering day, Millie sat against her wooden porch steps. She held a crumpled piece of paper between her fingers, the edges of it jabbing into her flesh. Finn would leave for the airport in two hours, so she still had time until she had to make the decision come with him.

She read the page, then reread it, then set it beside her on the floorboards. Her bare feet gripped the splintering surface and tapped in a slight rhythm with the music playing from within the house. She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, as the locks were now beginning to reach past her shoulders and were prone to falling into her eyes.

Her father sat at the kitchen table, watching a video of his daughter playing the cello. He, too, was a gifted musician, playing the oboe in a fairly popular orchestra. That was why he was always away, playing in concerts and rehearsals at various places.

Millie planned on sending the video into a competition, figuring that she should actually do something with her passion, just as Finn had. She was seeking her fathers approval before submitting it, knowing that if he loved it, the judges opinions would be irrelevant.

Millie turned her head back toward the green that lay in front of her and hesitantly grabbed her phone from the step above her, unlocking it, and searching for a certain boy's number. She glanced at the paper one last time before pressing down on his contact forcefully, bringing the cellphone up to her ear.

It rang six times and Millie had nearly hung up before the call was answered. A quiet sniffling could be heard in the background, which she figured was Sadie until she heard the other girls voice on the line.

"Uh, hi, Millie," the unfamiliar tone spoke, her voice scratchy. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, but Millie would much rather hear Finn's honeysuckle words.

"Hey, Sadie, can I talk to Finn?" the girl asked hopefully. There were several moments of shuffling, the phone shifting between different hands. Someone was speaking hushed phrases, probably in an attempt of privacy, but Millie picked out Finn's voice.

"Finn," she said softly, trying to gain the boys attention on the other line.

"Peaches," Finn whispered into the speakers after a long pause.

He didn't sound like himself, the energy completely drained from his voice. She furrowed her eyebrows, cracking her knuckles repeatedly.
"What's wrong?"

He choked on a laugh, and Millie could almost see the tears that she knew were streaming down his face. "I-I did something stupid, peach," he breathed out.

The girl's heart fell when the words left his mouth, afraid of what would complete the sentence.
"I'm coming over right now, just wait a minute," she assured him.

Scrambling, Millie lifted herself from the stairs and stumbled down the sidewalk, yelling a quick goodbye to her father.

***

As Millie ran up the stairs of Finn's house, throwing a smile in the direction of his mother, she felt a feeling of somewhat familiarity. The warm colors that painted the walls held her securely in place, not allowing her to do so much as to wobble.

Her upturned lips fell dramatically as she darted down the hallway toward Finn's bedroom. Millie could hear a gentle voice soothing Finn's cries and paused in front of the door for a second. She took in several deep breaths, then pushed open the entry.

Finn sat on his bed, head in his hands. He was surrounded by used tissues, the suitcase that had been packed so delicately torn apart in the corner. Sadie stood next to him, her face equally as drained of color as Finn's.