Bad Boy Rich

I nod my head quietly. I did hate fresh starts. I was a homebody. For the past four years I’d done nothing but study and work. I had zero social life besides hanging out with Phoebe and my boyfriend Liam. My weekends consisted of more work, taking care of the house and making sure my brother stayed out of trouble.

I had worked hard on bettering myself. Providing for Mom in her time of need. So what if I wasn’t hitting the clubs and partying like everyone else my age. I had been there, done that. Illegally, yet still, it’s not like I haven’t tasted what it’s like to walk on the wild side.

I walked.

I fell.

And now I’m back up.

“I have to do this.” I bury my head into Phoebe’s side, knowing I would miss her like crazy. “You can come visit, and I’m sure I’ll come back home for the holidays.”

“It’s not the same. I’m selfish and need my best friend.”

I smile into her shirt, inhaling the smell of cinnamon. A scent she purchased online after reading some article on how to attract men. As silly as it may seem—it was so Phoebe. Naïve and waiting to land her prince charming.

“I promise nothing will change between us,” I reassure her.

“Pinkie swear it.” She holds up her pinkie finger and I raise mine to link with hers.

“I pinkie swear it.”

The radio plays in the background, the local station playing the usual Friday afternoon ’90s mix. I grab the hairbrush from the top of the suitcase and sing to the tunes of Backstreet Boys. Phoebe can’t help herself, jumping off the bed and dancing in the room while we both belt out the chorus—off key—laughing until my brother bangs against the wall.

The song ends, the same time that we both stare at each other with clouded eyes. I’m the first to turn away, avoiding the sadness that I’m forcing to bury deep down inside because if I allow myself to feel the extent of it—I would never leave.

I try to distract myself by folding a sweater, until Phoebe’s arms wrap around my waist, her face buried into my hair. The sweater slips out of my hands as I pull her into me while we both begin to cry.

Phoebe pulls away first, wiping my old ragged t-shirt of the stains she left behind. When we both wipe our faces with the backs of our sleeves, we smile—staring into the mirror and laughing at our panda eyes.

Phoebe was more than a best friend—she was my family.

I look at the time on the wall—it’s just after four in the afternoon.

“Phoebe, I got one more thing I need to do before I leave.”

You could see the sympathy in her eyes. It wasn’t only saying goodbye to Phoebe, but to my boyfriend—Liam. I had been dreading this since the moment me leaving became a reality.

“You think you guys will last?”

Here’s the thing about hope: we cling to it and wish to the stars above that it’ll all work out. Liam wasn’t the type of man to force me to do anything, quite the opposite. He supported my decisions even if it meant leaving him behind.

“I sure hope so.”

I left Phoebe back at the house with my bags packed and ready to go.

The walk into town is short, but a much-needed one as I attempt to clear my thoughts and think about what I need to say to the man who had been my boyfriend for the past four years.

There’s the usual clinking and clanking coming from the garage, and without even calling his name, Liam slides out from beneath the car knowing I am here. Instead of saying goodbye inside, I motion for him to follow me as I walk around the worn-out building and sit on our bench. The same bench that he asked me to marry him on last year. Of course—I said no. I wasn’t ready for marriage. Twenty-four seemed t

oo young to settle down even though it had become common over the past few years. It seemed like there was wedding after wedding and all those marriages were high school and college friends the same age as me.

Taking a seat on the wobbly bench, I steady the rocky movement before he sits beside me. Neither of us says any words—quietly watching the mountains afar. I would miss the scenery; something about the fresh Alaskan air had a way of making me feel calm.

“I didn’t think this time would come.” He nervously twists the dirty rag between his grubby fingers. “I could help out too you know. I mean, I don’t have much but you can have it, Milly.”

Liam Davies wasn’t a selfish man. I knew he would help me out financially but this decision was more than leeching off my boyfriend. I would forever be in his debt and that didn’t sit well with me. He worked hard as an apprentice and was now a qualified mechanic. Unlike me, he didn’t go to college and this was all he had to support himself. He had already saved me—four years ago—from a college boyfriend who became my college stalker and found himself in college jail. Okay, perhaps I exaggerated that last part. He ended up in some detention center where he then proceeded to stalk the female nurse.

“I can’t take anything from you. I don’t have a choice in this matter.”