I don't see Josh until May. It's a blazing afternoon, and I'm out walking Dizzy, a mutt that belongs to Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez from my neighborhood, or rather my old neighborhood.
I pass by my old house, which is now a new house. I might not have recognized it if I'd never lived here. I want to hang around longer to try and get a glimpse of the family, but dogs get restless if you stay in one place for too long.
I wander up and down nearby streets, slowing in front of the stores where we always did our shopping. The drugstore, the grocer's, the supermarket – all of this will be forgotten in a couple of months. As it is, I feel like an outsider here already.
I feel like getting something cold to drink, so I tie Dizzy's leash around a streetlight. As I'm straightening up, I see someone running across the street towards me. Josh. With his long legs, it doesn't take him long to get to me. He stops on the curb, breathing slightly fast, his cheeks flushed and warm from the heat. "Hey," he greets me, saying it in this relaxed, gentle sigh.
"Hey."
He nods at Dizzy. "Got bored of Santa?"
For a moment, I'm surprised. Surprised he remembers that I have a cat, surprised that he even remembers Santa's name. I smile at him. "No, I'm dog-walking for money."
Josh peers at me, and I mentally kick myself for sounding so pathetic. I have to make sure I don't give Josh any reason to worry about me.
Then again, it isn't just him. I shouldn't say things that sound like calls for pity to anyone. Because that isn't what I want. Or is it? Do people, even the hard-nosed ones, secretly want some form of pity or attention when they're in trouble? Is that why I always found it so hard to stay away from Josh?
I cock a thumb at the convenience store. "Hey, do you mind watching Dizzy for a minute while I run inside to get a drink?"
"Sure."
"Do you want anything?"
"No, thanks."
I slip inside the store, taking my time inside, where it's cool from the AC, and I can have a moment to myself to think. When I emerge, Josh is rubbing Dizzy's square, light brown head. I pop the can of soda in my hand, and, out of courtesy, hand it out to Josh. He thinks for a moment, then takes a long drink, head tilted back, curls brushing over his ears. When he hands the can back to me, I don't drink. I feel shy, but I don't know why.
"Cute dog," he remarks, nodding at Dizzy.
"Yeah. She's great. Some of the others are just a nightmare. Um … so what are you doing out here, anyway?"
"I was at a friend's."
I blink. Gang friends? One from those who beat up the pervert that night so long ago on Toledo Avenue? I still find it impossible to believe that Josh, who is wonderful and understanding, could have friends like those.
Then again, maybe I'm judging them too quickly. Maybe, aside from the beating up thing, Josh's friends are not as bad as I think they are. Or maybe … well, I'm not sure I want to think about the opposite being true.
"How are your grandparents?" I jump on a random thought.
"OK. My granddad was kind of sick for a while."
"What?"
"Yeah. It was just a cold, but you know, when old people get sick, it's pretty bad. I was a little worried at first, but he pulled out of it."
I crack a small smile. "That's good. Your granddad is such a great guy."
"Yeah, I know. I'd hate to lose him. Or my grandma. I mean, that would just be – "
"I know." I really do know. I know what it's like to feel like you've lost your family. It's a constant feeling of something feeling wrong, and you keep trying to reach for it, even though you know you can never be you again.
Right then, I realize how soon the last day of school is, and the move. It's been so fast. I only have a month left. Everyone who matters knows about it, except for Erin … and Josh. It occurs to me that I might as well do it now. Great. It hardly seems like the right time or place, but I've waited way too long. I owe it to him to let him know.
"Josh, there's something I need to tell you."
His eyes glimmer before me. "Yeah?"
"My mom and my dad are breaking up."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. That's great!" He stops, studying my face. "Isn't it?"
"You remember how we went to see her up in Callville? Now, she's decided she wants to move there."
"Oh. But … what about you?"
"I have to go too."
"What, to Callville?" The pitch of his voice jumps.
I nod glumly.
"You're kidding."
"I wish, Josh. I wish."
"She wants you to move? Leave Delcott?"
"That's right."
"Leave school?"
"Yes, Josh."
"When?"
"Next month."
He pulls back. "Next month? Are you kidding me?"
"I'm sorry."
"What about your dad?"
"My dad sold the house. My guess is he's living off the money he made from the sale. My older brother's going off to college, so that just leaves Rob and me."
"Your dad sold your house? When did that happen? Geez, is that why you've been staying with Alex? Huh?"
"I'm sorry, Josh," I repeat myself.
"Sorry?" He's not satisfied with an apology. "And how long were you going to wait before telling me you were leaving? If I hadn't run into you today – "
"I would have told you."
"When? I don't know what is up with you, Clare. Do you not want to talk to me anymore?"
"Look, maybe it's better this way. I'm not going to be around for long. We should get used to ... not being close."
"Don't say that."
"But it's true."
"Can't you stay? Another year or so at least?"
"Where?"
"What about Alex?"
"I can't live there forever – "
"My place, then."
"Josh, be serious."
"I am being serious," he returns, stepping closer.
I stare at him for a while, trying to tell if he really means it. It seems like he does. In case he is, I shake my head. "No," I tell him.
"Why not?"
"Why not? Are you crazy?"
"What's so crazy about it? You've been there. My grandparents like you, they'd take care of you."
"There's no room."
"We'd make room."
"Josh, I can't live in the same house with you. I just can't. Why can't you just accept the fact that I'm leaving like everyone else? It's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything."
His mouth drops when I say that. I'm shocked too at my own self. I don't know where that last comment came from – it seemed to just fall out with everything else. But it's out now, and I can't take it back. I'm not sure I want to, anyway.
For a long moment, the two of us stare at each other. Dizzy glances between us curiously, making soft whining noises. A wind kicks up around us, then dies. The roar of a car drowns out my thoughts, until it's too far away.
"OK," Josh finally speaks. His voice is calmer now, more controlled, although his muscles are still tense. "You're right, Clare. I should just be like everyone else. I guess I should just say goodbye and good luck and I don't really care. Right?"
He doesn't expect an answer, I think, so I don't give one. He takes one last look at me, then turns away, going back across the street.
For the first time ever, it seems I've really made Josh mad.