I notice her silhouette approaching as I'm loading another box into the bed of my truck, though I choose to ignore her, as I do most things these days. Since my mother's passing three days ago, I've learned things are easier this way. If you ignore everything, you don't have to feel anything. I'd almost forgotten how freeing it is to be numb.
The blonde stops once she reaches my side, yet I still don't turn to face her. I don't want to. I have nothing to say to her. I have nothing left to offer her except for darkness and baggage, and something tells me my baggage and misery isn't quite what she wants. All I want is to finish loading my things into my truck so I can get the hell out of this place. There's nothing left for me here.
"Noah," she finally whispers, vying for my attention. I hear the undertone of fear in her voice. I guess she understands what's happening. It must be frightening for her to think of what the future will look like. A future without me in it. What she doesn't understand is that she will be better off that way. All I can offer her now is destruction. That's all I've ever been good for, anyway. I ruin everything I touch. I find it ironic that this is the exact reason I'd been hesitant to start anything with this girl, because I knew I would break her. Yet I started something anyway. And here she is now, standing next to me, waiting to be broken.
"What?" I snap gruffly, shoving another box into the bed of my truck. I don't want to look at her. Frankly, I'm not sure if I can. She'll see the emptiness in my eyes, she'll wonder what happened to the boy she loved. Then I'd have to tell her that the boy she fell in love with isn't coming back anytime soon.
"Can we . . talk?" she tries, sounding hopeful. This makes me want to laugh. I want to turn around and tell her that she might as well let go of all the hope she has now, before it destroys her. After all, it's hope that did this to me.
"About what?" I mumble, still refusing to face her. Part of me doesn't want to look into her eyes because I simply don't want to, but there's a small part of me that doesn't want the first girl I ever fell in love with to see me for who I am and be disappointed. I wonder if there will ever come a time where I don't want to please her, where she doesn't matter to me.
"I don't know," she murmurs, hurt. "Everything?"
I finally give in and turn to face her. I study Blake closely, gazing into her brown eyes at the last possible moment, part of me fearing what might happen when I do. I find sadness gleaming in her eyes. Sadness and pity and fear, all emotions evoked by me.
I'm surprised when this realization doesn't make me feel anything.
"You want to talk?" I ask with an air of annoyance, staring down at Blake. "Then talk."
Her expression falters, eyes widening at the intensity of my tone. She bites down on her lip as she looks up at me, eyes scanning my face as if she's searching for something. Emotion, maybe. Regret. The boy she fell in love with.
I can tell by the way her features pinch that Blake doesn't find anything.
"You never called me back," she says, voice heavy. I can't put into words how broken she looks in this moment. It's odd, knowing I'm the one person who has the power to fix her, to put her back together again. Yet I make no move to do so.
"Why would I?" I question. "I didn't have anything to say."
Blake purses her lips and nods, looking as if I've slapped her across the face. I guess I have, in a way, except my words landed a blow to her heart instead of her cheek. I wonder which hurts worse.
"I'm so sorry about your mom," she murmurs. I can tell she genuinely means the words. She blinks back tears, and I wonder if her sudden urge to cry was inflicted by me or the death of my mother. "She was a lovely woman. I can only imagine how much you're hurting."
"I'm not," I reveal. "I don't feel much of anything right now, to be honest."
Blake glances up at me in shock. I guess what I've just said is slightly inappropriate, especially considering my mother died just days ago. Yet it's the truth, and I see no reason to start lying to Blake now.
"You're packing," Blake notes as she studies the boxes scattered in the driveway around us and in the bed of my truck, blinking furiously.
I can't hold back a sarcastic smirk. "Way to state the obvious, sweetheart."
"What for?" Blake's voice is strained.
"I'm leaving." I don't feel pain at the words. I don't feel anything. Empty. I feel empty.
"You're . . . leaving?" she repeats in disbelief. "What do you mean you're leaving?"
"I mean I'm taking all my stuff and skipping town, sweetheart. What do you think I mean?"
Blake's bottom lip trembles as her tear-filled gaze meets mine. However, a new light shines in her eyes. They're still full of sadness and hurt, yet anger is evident in her gaze, as well. She's angry with me. I'm not surprised.
"So you were just planning on leaving? And you weren't going to tell me?"
"What was I supposed to do, Blake?" I snap. "Send you a text? Something tells me you wouldn't be pleased either way."
"Damn right I wouldn't!" she cries, voice echoing in the air around us. I didn't know such a small girl could be capable of such a forceful yell. Blake's glare is fierce as she stares me down, chest heaving as she breathes erratically.
"See? I—"
"It's my turn to talk, Noah!" Blake cuts me off. She steps forward, a lone tear tracing a path down her cheek. My hand flinches with the urge to wipe the tear away, yet the gesture doesn't make it past the thought.
"I get that you're hurting, Noah," she says as another tear falls. "I know that your mother passed and that the car accident rattled you and that all of this is overwhelming. But why are you acting like this? Do you know how worried I was? Waiting for you—" Her voice breaks entirely, her tears turning to streams that run down her cheeks.
"Waiting for you to come see me, or call me, or anything!" she finishes, expression crumpling. "I don't get why you're doing this. Why are you pushing me away? You know I'm here for you. I've always been here for you. I always will. Just let me in, Noah. Please."
I can't look at her when she's crying like this, so I don't. My gaze focuses somewhere to the left of her as I inhale sharply, wishing this was over.
"I'm sorry, Blake," I mutter. "I can't do this."
"You can't do what?" she questions, a sob escaping her. "Admit that you're hurting? That you just want someone to love you? That doesn't make you weak, Noah. I understand that—"
"You don't understand shit!" I cry, seething as I glance over at her. "Don't even start that with me."
"So that's it then?" Blake asks through her tears. "Your plan was to just leave behind everybody who loves you without a word? Run away like you always do when things get hard?"
"The only person who ever loved me was my mother," I hiss. "And now she's dead."
Blake glares at me, eyes welling with tears all over again. "You know damn well that isn't true! I loved you, Noah. I still do! All I'm asking is for you to let me. Let me love you. Let me in. You don't have to go through this alone. I'm right here."
"I'm not some fucking project, Blake!" I blurt, taking my anger out on the girl before me. "I'm not some broken boy that needs you to fix him! I don't need your pity, and I damn well don't need your help."
"I'm not trying to fix you, you asshole!" Blake cries, tears tracing her cheeks. "I was never trying to fix you! I love you!"
"You don't love me," I say in a low tone. "You love the version of me that exists in your head. Look at me, Blake. This is who I am. Tell me that you love this version of me. Tell me that if I never changed from who I am right now, we'd still end up together."
Blake glares at me wordlessly. I stare down at her for a long moment, until I'm unable to take it any more. Then I turn to the ground, grabbing another box and hefting it into the bed of my truck.
"If you love me," Blake says, her voice faltering, "if you ever loved me at all, then you wouldn't do this. Stay, Noah. Please. I know it's hard to believe, but things will get better. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. You just have to find it."
I hesitate before grabbing another box, her words getting to me. Even in this blurred state of numbness, I know that I did love Blake Rhodes. She will always go down in history as the first girl I ever fell in love with, the first girl to ever give me hope that things get better.
"Is this because we slept together?" Blake whispers as I reach for the last box on the ground, heading for my truck. "Is that all you wanted from me? Is that why you're acting this way toward me?"
"I was never after having sex with you," I assure Blake, as that is the only comfort I can offer her. "It happened, and it was great. But I wasn't with you for your body, Blake."
"Then why are you acting like this?" she whimpers. I know if I turn around I will see her in tears again. "You don't have to go, Noah," she adds when I don't respond. "You don't have to do this."
I slam the bed of my truck closed once I get the last box inside, turning to face Blake.
"Yeah," I mutter. "I do."
Blake's features contort with rage and despair as she stares at me, biting down on her lip until it becomes translucent. I look down at her for a long moment before I realize I have nothing left to say to her. If I don't leave now, my father will come home with Caroline and find me. I never told either of them I was leaving, and I really don't feel like doing all of that explaining now.
I turn my back on Blake, taking a step toward the driver's side as I pull my key from my pocket.
"If you take one more step," Blake speaks up, "then you lose me. For good. Either you go and lose everything we had, or you stay and fight for us. What's more important to you?"
I hesitate for a moment, memories flashing through my mind. I think of Blake's contagious smile, her adorable laugh, falling asleep with my arms around her, how she was the literal highlight of my life. I think of what it felt like to kiss her, to run my hands through her hair, to feel her body beneath mine as I loved her in a way nobody else ever had the chance to. I think of Blake's hand in mine as we walked down the school hallway together, the way she slept in my arms beneath a sky full of stars, her laughing as she sat across from me while I worked on the Ford in my father's shop.
I think to myself: Is leaving worth losing all of that?
I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I whisper to her, finding that I genuinely mean the words. Then I finish the walk to my truck, climbing into the driver's seat without another thought. I place the key into the ignition, listening as the engine comes to life, pressing my foot down on the gas pedal, ready to get out of this place.
Glancing into the rear view mirror, my gaze lingers on Blake as she stands in the middle of my father's driveway, expression shattered as tears paint her beautiful face. The look in her eyes haunts me as I continue driving, almost feeling like I've made a mistake. I blink to rid myself of the image of her, finding that this does the trick.
I turn onto the highway moments later, no destination in mind as I turn on the radio, driving wherever the road takes me. I reach for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the dash, sliding open the lid and pulling out a thin stick, setting the cigarette between my lips as I light it.
Merging into the fastest lane, I take a long drag from my cigarette.
____
a/n: this is probably one of my most favorite things i've written, and i'm so thankful for my readers who have been here from the beginning and gave me the chance to share it. i'm sorry this story ended up so long, i tried my best to keep chapters short to make up for it sjsjsjs. it warms my heart to know that there are people who seriously take the time to read something i've written.
please no one kill me for the ending.
as always, feel free to leave a vote or comment (once again, please no one kill me) or follow me to stay notified for my future works. ;)
until next time,
- c