Because You're Different ✔

39. Type [Part 1]

Nathan

Eleven hours in a car with June.

Eleven hours.

And another eleven hours back.

It had seemed like such a fun idea when I'd bought the concert tickets. Not anymore now, knowing what I was going to have to tell her. Every single time I got back to Charlotte, she'd scrutinize me, and every single time, I said: "I haven't told them yet". She'd smile at me sympathetically, and say: "That's alright, darling. I know it's difficult. But you're going to have to tell them sometime."

She was right. I was going to have to. The problem was, I didn't want to.

How couldn't I have realized this was what a relationship with Charlotte was going to lead to? What had I been thinking? That she'd magically turn into an American citizen? That it'd never get this far? That we'd marry and she'd stay?

I had seriously considered the option. Buy her a ring. Pop the question. Remain here. It seemed wrong, though, to ask someone to marry you because you didn't want to leave home. I didn't even want to be married. I was only twenty, there was plenty of years left for me to be that serious.

Moving across the ocean seemed equally serious.

"It doesn't have to be for forever," Charlotte had said. "A year, perhaps. And we can fly back during holidays."

She was right, again. It wasn't as if I was signing a contract that obligated me to stay there for the rest of my life. It'd be an adventure, a way to experience life outside of the US. Like Lena and I had always wanted. Explore other cultures.

"What about Sam?" I'd said. Yeah, at his age, I'd already been looking after myself, but was he capable of doing the same?

"I'm sure June's parents will want to check in on him."

I did love Charlotte. It was just that I also loved two other people, two other people I didn't know if I could be so far away from. But Charlotte was my future; I should be putting her before everyone else, right? And she'd had to miss her family and friends for three years now — what kind of boyfriend would I be if I'd force her to miss them even longer? And I wasn't Sam's dad; I was allowed to have my own life.

It'd all happened so fast. I barely realized what I'd agreed to. A real job, in a foreign city, with adult responsibilities, and the only person I'd know there would be her. It had to sink in before I could tell anyone else. And like that, the days flew by, at full speed, and with each opportunity to tell June and Sam, I figured that there'd be another one, until it was late April, and even I couldn't find any excuses anymore.

"Nathan," Charlotte said, sighing deeply. "We're leaving in little more than a month. They have the right to know. They need to know."

"I'll tell Sam tomorrow," I said with difficulty.

"And June?"

"I don't want to ruin the trip."

"You can't tell Sam and not tell June. That's not how it works, love."

"You're right. I'll tell her too."

I had to. But I didn't want to. Couldn't I be in Palo Alto and London at the same time?

She was already waiting for me in the hallway, sitting on the stairs, phone in her lap, bag at her feet. As soon as I came in, she charged at me, flinging her arms around me like she hadn't seen me in ages.

What would her welcome be like if she really hadn't seen me in ages?

Would she be laughing like that? Would there be the little lights, jumping up and down excitedly?