"I’m outside," I say, my eyes never leaving her window.
"Outside where?" she asks. I hear her getting up and see a light coming toward the window. I see her silhouette, and I hold up my hand with a smile. “Oh my God,” she says, pushing her window up. “What the hell are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," I answer, then hang up the phone. “Come sit with me."
"It’s the middle of the night,” she huffs. “You are crazy, Reed."
"Spend my last night with me." I put my hands in my back pockets, and my heart starts to speed up as I look at her. She turns around and closes the window.
"Does that mean she’s coming?" I ask the universe, and a couple of minutes later, I hear the front door open softly. I walk over to the porch and see her quietly close the door behind her, the smile on my face hurting my cheeks when she looks over at me.
"What the hell?” she says, coming down the steps. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top with a flannel button-down tied around her waist. “Why couldn’t you just go home?" She steps closer to me. “What is that smell?" She scrunches up her nose, and I know her hazel eyes are browner at night than during the day. "Is that whiskey?"
I grab her hand and pull her with me toward her grandfather’s barn. “It’s my grandfather’s whiskey," I say as we walk side by side, her hand slipping out of mine. When I’ve walked her home the past couple of weeks, we would go into the barn and talk for most of the night. "We were celebrating." I look over at her as we walk through the grass toward the red barn. "You would know that had you shown up." I push her shoulder with mine.
She doesn’t look over at me. Instead, she continues to look down at the ground and shrugs. “Didn’t think it would be that big of a deal that I wasn’t there." Her voice is soft, and I slide the barn door open just enough for us to slip in. She makes her way over to the side and starts climbing the wooden ladder up to the loft. Nothing but hay and a flannel blanket are up there. “I should have worn pants," she says, going to sit down on the blanket, and all I see are her long legs as she crosses them. “This time tomorrow, you’ll be in a single bed."
I sit in front of her, my legs stretched sideways next to her, and lean back on my arms. “I know,” I say excitedly. “I can’t wait."
"So I’ve heard." She breaks into a huge smile. “You might have mentioned it a time or two." She lies down and looks up at the window. I lie down beside her, looking up at the stars.
"Aren’t you excited to leave?" I ask, and she just nods her head.
"But I’ll miss home,” she says softly. “I’ll miss my pops." She turns to look at me. “There has to be something you are going to miss."
"My family," I answer right away. “Without a doubt, that is the only thing I’ll miss from this town." I look back up at the twinkling stars in the sky. “I just don’t fit in," I tell her my deepest secret. “Being a farm boy is never the life I wanted, but it’s all I know." I look at her and see that she’s looking up at the stars. “Yet it’s what I hate the most." I turn back to look at the stars. "It’s suffocating."
"It’s because there are so many of you." She laughs at her own joke.
"I want to see what else is out there." I put one hand on my stomach. “I want to travel and see the world. If I stay here." I look at her, and she turns her soft hazel eyes toward me. "I’ll die a little each day." She is the most beautiful girl I know, and she doesn’t even know it. "Thank you,” I say, turning on my side now. “For being there these last couple of months." My hand comes up to touch her face. “I just have one regret."
"Really?" she says. “You said you never have regrets." She throws my words in my face.
"Well, I have now." I smirk. “Don’t you want to know what it is?"
"I’m dying with anticipation,” she says, and I don’t think I’ve ever not laughed when I’ve been around her.
"That we didn’t get close sooner,” I say, licking my lips. My stomach dips as I look at her eyes go just a touch lighter. She looks down now, almost afraid of me seeing her. "Look at me,” I say. She looks up at me, and I can see the tears in her eyes. “Are those tears for me? You continue like that …" I try to joke, ignoring the pull at my chest. “Then I’m going to think you like me." She moves her hand to push me, but I grab it and pull her closer to me. “I’m going to miss you, Hazel.” I’ve practiced saying that since last week but have been too chicken to say it out loud. “I’m going to miss you the most, I think." My voice trails off into a whisper.