Isabel
I felt like crying.
They weren’t happy tears, but soul numbing, heart-breaking tears that would consume me and not let go until it had wrung every last ounce of energy from me. If I gave in and let that sorrow take over, I’d crumble to the floor and not be able to get back up.
“Everything will work out, Isabel.”
I looked at my mom before I walked out of the front door and headed to school. My eyes stung from the unshed tears, and my throat was so dry and tight I couldn’t even swallow.
“No, it won’t be okay.”
My mom gave me a sympathetic look, and I hated it. “Isabel, we didn’t mean to spring this on you, but we just found out, as well. Your father can’t pass up the promotion, even if it means we have to move your senior year.”
I just shook my head. I didn’t care if I had to finish my senior year at another school. What I cared about, what was breaking my heart, was the fact I had to tell Quinn about this.
I would be leaving my best friend.
I would be leaving the guy I was hopelessly in love with.
Not saying anything was the best route; if I opened my mouth, I’d either yell at my mom for ruining the best thing in my life, or cry like a little bitch.
I just left the house, got in my car, and drove to school.
Everything passed by in a blur. I was at school before I even realized it. After cutting the engine, I just sat there, my heart racing, my body numb. I didn’t know how to tell Quinn any of this.
I don’t want to tell him.
Telling myself this was all just an overreaction was easier said than done.
It’s just one more year, and we can be together again.
It’s just one year of us being apart all the way across the country.
Closing my eyes and resting my head back on the seat, I could have cried at my thoughts.
Be together? Quinn and I were a lot of things, but together wasn’t one of them. He was my best friend, the boy who had protected me when I was only ten and being picked on. He was the first person to tell me things would be okay because he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Although my home life was fine, happy even, the very thought of not having Quinn in it, not being able to see him every day, talk to him, and feel so protected because I knew he would never let anything happen to me, was unbearable.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Quinn walking toward the car. He always waited for me so we could walk together, and knowing I’d have to finish off my last year of school without doing this one thing every day broke my heart.
But I plastered on a smile, because I didn’t want to tell him right now and ruin the entire day. It was Friday and I could tell him after school; that way we’d have the whole weekend to hang out, maybe talk about this.
“Hey,” he said and leaned his massive biceps on the inside of the window, his smile bright, straight, and white.
“Hey yourself.” I smiled wider, turned to grab my bag off the passenger seat, and went to open my door, but he was already there doing it for me. Once out of the car, I tried to keep my composure happy, but inside I was a wreck.
I stared up at him, his body massive for only being eighteen. He had tattoos on his arms, even though he was younger. He appeared like the bad boy in all ways, was in many senses, but he was also my best friend.
He played hockey, and his body was a machine, tearing through anything and anyone to get what he wanted. At six foot three and two hundred pounds of raw muscle, Quinn didn’t look like someone that should be going to this rinky-dink little high school. He looked like a man in many ways.
He was a hard ass to all others, but to me he was the sweetest person. He showed me a side that he didn’t allow anyone else to see, and that made me love him even harder.
One of his friends who also played hockey came over and started “talking shop” with him, and I just stared up at him. His dark blond hair was cut short and had a mussed look going on. From this angle, his light
I felt like crying.
They weren’t happy tears, but soul numbing, heart-breaking tears that would consume me and not let go until it had wrung every last ounce of energy from me. If I gave in and let that sorrow take over, I’d crumble to the floor and not be able to get back up.
“Everything will work out, Isabel.”
I looked at my mom before I walked out of the front door and headed to school. My eyes stung from the unshed tears, and my throat was so dry and tight I couldn’t even swallow.
“No, it won’t be okay.”
My mom gave me a sympathetic look, and I hated it. “Isabel, we didn’t mean to spring this on you, but we just found out, as well. Your father can’t pass up the promotion, even if it means we have to move your senior year.”
I just shook my head. I didn’t care if I had to finish my senior year at another school. What I cared about, what was breaking my heart, was the fact I had to tell Quinn about this.
I would be leaving my best friend.
I would be leaving the guy I was hopelessly in love with.
Not saying anything was the best route; if I opened my mouth, I’d either yell at my mom for ruining the best thing in my life, or cry like a little bitch.
I just left the house, got in my car, and drove to school.
Everything passed by in a blur. I was at school before I even realized it. After cutting the engine, I just sat there, my heart racing, my body numb. I didn’t know how to tell Quinn any of this.
I don’t want to tell him.
Telling myself this was all just an overreaction was easier said than done.
It’s just one more year, and we can be together again.
It’s just one year of us being apart all the way across the country.
Closing my eyes and resting my head back on the seat, I could have cried at my thoughts.
Be together? Quinn and I were a lot of things, but together wasn’t one of them. He was my best friend, the boy who had protected me when I was only ten and being picked on. He was the first person to tell me things would be okay because he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Although my home life was fine, happy even, the very thought of not having Quinn in it, not being able to see him every day, talk to him, and feel so protected because I knew he would never let anything happen to me, was unbearable.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Quinn walking toward the car. He always waited for me so we could walk together, and knowing I’d have to finish off my last year of school without doing this one thing every day broke my heart.
But I plastered on a smile, because I didn’t want to tell him right now and ruin the entire day. It was Friday and I could tell him after school; that way we’d have the whole weekend to hang out, maybe talk about this.
“Hey,” he said and leaned his massive biceps on the inside of the window, his smile bright, straight, and white.
“Hey yourself.” I smiled wider, turned to grab my bag off the passenger seat, and went to open my door, but he was already there doing it for me. Once out of the car, I tried to keep my composure happy, but inside I was a wreck.
I stared up at him, his body massive for only being eighteen. He had tattoos on his arms, even though he was younger. He appeared like the bad boy in all ways, was in many senses, but he was also my best friend.
He played hockey, and his body was a machine, tearing through anything and anyone to get what he wanted. At six foot three and two hundred pounds of raw muscle, Quinn didn’t look like someone that should be going to this rinky-dink little high school. He looked like a man in many ways.
He was a hard ass to all others, but to me he was the sweetest person. He showed me a side that he didn’t allow anyone else to see, and that made me love him even harder.
One of his friends who also played hockey came over and started “talking shop” with him, and I just stared up at him. His dark blond hair was cut short and had a mussed look going on. From this angle, his light
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