Jed left today.
Right now, he's probably in the New York City, unpacking his things in his Dad's new apartment.
It's a week after the New Year and I'm sitting in my room, staring out the window.
The snowfalls have become heavier recently, so everything is coated with a thick layer of white fluff. It;s cold as hell outside and the thick plaid I have thrown over my shoulders gives me a feeling of warmth and safety. Breathing onto the window, I create a small patch of fog. Using my finger, I draw a slanted shape of a heart, then cross it with an arrow. I watch my piece of art disappear, blurring at the edges and melting into the glass. In a matter of seconds, it's gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. The ring on my finger clinks against the glass when I knock my knuckles against the window lightly.
I went to see him today.
He wasn't there.
It's Saturday, so there's no school. I woke up in the morning, having dreamt of a lesson with Ms. Scottinson when I argued with Jed, this time on A Tale of Two Cities. It took me a while to realize that it's the weekend and the school is closed. And even if it weren't, then I wasn't going to argue with Jed on anything.
He simply wouldn't be there.
When I got downstairs, I spotted Everett sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. Milk drooled from his mouth as he asked me what I was doing up so early, with his mouth full of cereal. Putting on my socks and shrugging into my University of Edinburgh hoodie, I told him I wanted him to take me somewhere. Five minutes later, we were in his car, on our way to Jed's house.
I knew I was late even before we pulled onto the curb in front of his front yard. I had known from Makena that today was the day Jed was going to leave. I thought that eight in the morning was going to be an hour early enough to manage to still see him.
I was wrong.
We sat in the car in silence. My brother turned the radio off but left the heating on, so that we wouldn't freeze to death. He stared at his hands resting on the steering wheel while I stared out at the house, drinking it in.
I foolishly wished I could come in there one last time. I wished I could go to the patio where we danced on the night of the Homecoming, when everything started. I wished I could go upstairs and lay down on his bed once more and bury my face in his pillow, then get drunk on his scent. I wished I could go see the kitchen and touch the cupboard where he had once sat me and kissed me.
I simply wished.
I don't know how long we've spent there, me staring out the window, my brother looking everywhere but at me. He didn't utter one word, and when I told him I was ready, he wordlessly pulled onto the road.
And then we drove away. Just like that.
I didn't cry. Not one tear left my eyes. Not when I realized the house was empty. Not when we drove away. Not even when I stepped back into my room and closed the door behind me, leaning my back against the smooth surface.
I haven't done much since that time. At some point, I migrated to the window, where I'm sitting right now. No one came knocking on my door to check if I'm alright, but that's okay. They know I need some time alone right now.
This day is my final goodbye with Jed.
Tomorrow, I start living again.
It's funny how I feel as though he's dead, even though he simply left for another city. I know I can still call him, send an e-mail, even video chat. But I also know I won't.
I've already made my decision.
Eleven years later, thinking about Jamie doesn't hurt so much. Maybe second times are easier than the first ones.
I tear my gaze away from the lone tree growing in the very back of our backyard and scan the room. My shoulders lift in a small sigh. I'm going to have to clean up a bit.
Getting hung op on the white commode standing by the opposite wall, my eyes zero in on something red. I cock my head to the side when I realize it's the present Ms. Brownstone gave me the day before Christmas. She told me to open it at home.
On the evening of the day I got it, Jed told me he was leaving. I had completely forgotten about the present afterwards.
Sliding off the windowsill, I grab the edges of the quilt to make sure it doesn't fall off and pad over to the commode. Clutching the material with one hand, I pick the bag up with the other and retreat back to my bed. Sitting down slowly, I put my hand inside.
My fingers wrap around something cold. It's definitely metal, I think, as I snatch the thing out of the bag and lay it in my palm.
The thing is thin, about the length of my palm. The top is U-shaped, with both arms of the same length. There is a short holder connecting with the underside of the wanna-be horseshoe, ending in a small ball. A note is attached to one of the arms.
Stay tuned, it says.
There's nothing else in the bag. Just the metal device and the note.
I smile as I close my fingers around the tuning fork and clutch it to my chest. I already have one, but it doesn't matter.
What's important is the message lying behind the present.
A tuning fork is a device used for tuning instruments, including the piano. Two months ago, I refused to talk about music with Ms. Brownstone again. Back then, she left the topic alone.
Now it's back. In a form that is quite different from before.
I was in that shop one day and saw this. It made me think of you.
Tuning forks are not sold in just any shop. You need to go to the music store to buy one. And unless Ms. Brownstone's secret passion is playing the drums, I doubt she went there for herself.
A few weeks back, Jed told me I shouldn't stop playing if music was what made me happy. Sometime later, I found the courage to touch my piano for the first time in over a year. Right now, I get a tuning fork as a Christmas present from Ms. Brownstone, and a note telling me to stay tuned.
I shake my head. Just two words, with so much power behind them. I heard about a certain three-word sentence that has the power to change lives. In my case, it only took two words and nine letters to rock my world.
I stand up, letting the plaid fall from my shoulders and go back to the dresser. Placing the tuning fork carefully in the place of the bag, I leave it there. My fingers run over its cold surface once more before I turn away.
This is not just the tuning fork that helped me make that decision. The little thing is just the key to open the box holding all the factors.
What really changed my life is the year of therapy with Ms. Brownstone, filled with telling her about my problems three times a week. It's the many smiles I exchanged with Makena and all the things we did together after she had accepted me for who I am almost at sight. It's my family who stood behind me during all that time, even when I was too stubborn to let myself see it. It's the lessons with Ms. Scottinson, where I could finally be listened to and exist, even if for only forty minutes.
And finally, it's all the time I got to spend with Jed, who showed me that the world isn't all about darkness. It was him who taught me that every cloud has a silver lining and that I can always see the light, all I have to do is look in the right direction. Moreover, he showed me the direction and made me feel things I've never felt before him, not even during my previous life in Scotland.
He pulled me out of the dark hole I've fallen into when I left Scotland and taught me to live again. And despite the way the things went between us, I am never going to regret it.
Just like I'm always going to be grateful to him.
Taking a deep breath, I turn from away from the dresser. A small smile plays on the corners of my lips when I lift my chin.
Tomorrow, I start living again.
As in for now, I have a few things I need to do.
***
L/M: Holy cow. I'm finished. Like, totally finished. Can you believe it? Because I can't.
I've grown so attached to Ada, Jed, Everett and all the other characters that I simply can't let them go. And maybe I won't...
Anyway, I'm sorry for the way it ended. Although in fact, I'm not. Though I'm sorry you had to suffer. Believe me, I'm sad, too.
Considering it's the end, I'd like to say a BIIIIIIGGGG thank you to those who were with me and Ada from the very beginning to the very end. I loved waking up every day, checking my Wattpad notifications and seeing all those lovely comments and votes. You guys make writing worth dying for. I've gone through some bad and heavy stuff in my life while writing this book, and your support was one of the things that helped me piece myself back together. I cannot put into words how grateful I am to all of you (which says a lot, since I'm a writer and can describe almost anything and everything).
Now, I'm sorry for all the breaks in updates and my constant irregularity. Like I said... heavy stuff. And I need to work on my responsibility, so you are the witnesses to my process of becoming a better Lucie. Feel free to kick me in the butt anytime I fail (which, knowing me, is going to happen A LOT).
Anyyyhoooooww...
THANK YOU. SO MUCH. Thank you once more, for everything, for being here with me, for reading, for loving, for hating, for EVERYTHING AT ALL. I loved every single comment, every single correct of my mistake (cause I love them, too), every single vote, EVERYTHING.
Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, and remember:
All of you.