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Authors: Laura Miller

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BOOK: A Bird on a Windowsill
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Chapter Six

Salem 

(Fifteen Years Old)

 

 

 

Day 3,650

 

I
let every bit of air escape my lungs, and I beg my heart to slow down for a damn minute. And once it does that, I beg my legs to move again. And way too fast, I’m standing right in front of Savannah and Rylan Tennessee, as they stare blankly back at me.

“Vannah, can I talk to you?” I don’t even acknowledge Rylan.

She looks at me with a question written on her face.

“Okay.”

I watch as she turns her attention back to Rylan. “I’ll call you after practice,” she says to him. And then she smiles.
She smiles. At him.

“Okay, babe, talk to you later,” he says.

Babe? Babe? Who says that? He’s either forty or he thinks he’s Freddie Prinze Jr.

He glances at me before he turns to leave. We’re eye to eye for only a split-second, but I know exactly what he said—because I said the same thing.

I watch him walk away from us. He’s got this cool-guy swagger that I wish I had sometimes. And he’s a giant—tall, with the beginnings of some muscles. And if that’s not enough, he’s a sophomore, and he’s also a two-sport athlete. But up until just now—this very moment—I never thought about Rylan Tennessee. In fact, I don’t think I had any opinion of the guy....or even one thought about him...ever. But now... Now, of course, that’s all changed. Now, I despise him and his stupid cool-guy swagger.

“What did you want to talk about?”

I hear her voice, and it easily tears my stare away from model boy.

“What? That? Was what?” I stutter.

I don’t think about the words before they spill out. They literally just spew out of my mouth, in no particular order.

She laughs, and her laugh seems to bring me back down to earth somehow. “What are you trying to say?”

“I just...,” I start again. “Are you like, a thing or something with Rylan Tennessee?”

She looks at me, almost accusingly. “Rylan and me?”

Damn
. Hearing his name roll off her lips just like it’s her own name is like pumping poison straight into my blood. I just want to stop it before it ends up killing me.

I don’t even wait for the answer I already know. After all, I just witnessed it.

“Since when?” I ask, impatiently.

“Since last weekend,” she says. She adjusts her weight to her other leg and bows her head. I know she’s trying to hide her smile.

I try not to puke in my mouth.

“Okay,” I say, in total disbelief. I can feel my eyes burning. I squeeze them shut until I can’t feel the burning anymore. “Okay,” I say again, and then I leave her there. I don’t say another word. I just turn and walk away.

“Eben.”

I stop.

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

My eyelids instinctively fall over my eyes, and slowly, I find myself turning back toward her.

“I, uh...”

I stop. And my eyes catch on hers.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m still looking for your star tower.”

A soft, guarded smile takes over her face. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I think I might be close.”

Her warm eyes focus on mine for just a moment, and I get lost in them—for just a moment—until I just can’t bear it anymore. And then I turn away.

“Eben.”

I stop, but this time, I don’t turn around.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” I sigh to myself. “It’s fine.”

 

 

I
t’s funny how a picture of a moment can just be frozen in your mind. For the next few days, I had that picture of her and “the one we won’t speak of” plastered in my head, running on some kind of spinning wheel. Over and over again, it was just her and him.
Her and him laughing. Her and him getting too close. Her and him whispering stupid stuff into each other’s ears. Over and over again.

But the days came, and the days left, and eventually that picture turned over in my mind less and less. It still hurt the same, but it was easier to manage, I guess. If she was happy, I’d have to be happy for her...or at least, act like I was. After all, I was still her best friend, and according to her, that wasn’t going to change. And for that, I loved her, and at the same time, hated life. But that’s what you do when you love someone, right? You let them go?

Shit
.

That advice is nothing but horse shit.
Who came up with that?

When you really love someone, you don’t let them go—mostly, because you can’t. Nature won’t allow it. But also, because you just don’t. If I learned anything from my grandpa, I learned that you don’t give up on people—especially girls. Now, you might put your life on hold, wait for cool-guy-swagger-model boy to screw up—which he will, eventually—and for her to come back to you. But you don’t let her go. If you love her, you don’t let her go.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Salem 

(Sixteen Years Old)

 

 

 

 

Day 4,015

 

“H
i, Eben.”

I look up, and Savannah is sitting across from me.

She looks kind of sad.

“What’s wrong? Did he do something?”

I sit up straighter and clench my fists, just as her sad look turns questioning.

“No.” She shakes her head. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

She grabs the extra carton of chocolate milk from my tray, and I watch as she tries to open it.
Every time.
Every time she touches a little milk carton, she can’t help but tear it to pieces trying to get into it. I usually watch until she starts getting really frustrated; it’s kind of fun.

“Here,” I say, taking the carton from her hands.

I easily open it from the side she didn’t mangle. And then I set it back down in front of her.

“My dad got a job in South Carolina.”

“South Carolina...?”

“Mount Pleasant. It’s by Charleston.”

I feel my eyebrows start to come together.

“Is he going to take it?”

She nods.

“So, your dad is going to live in South Carolina? That’s going to be weird—not having your dad around.”

I take a bite of my square fish sandwich.

“Eben, we’re going with him.”

“What?” I stop chewing.

“We’re moving next month.”

“Wait,” I say, trying to swallow. “You’re moving to South Carolina?”

She nods again.

“But that’s like, on the east coast.”

“Mm hmm,” she says.

“That’s halfway across the country.”

“Mm hmm,” she somberly hums.

“But we just started school.”

“I know,” she says.

I put down the sandwich and feel my eyes moving to the cafeteria’s big glass doors. A girl is walking down from the parking lot. I mindlessly follow her path. I’m thinking of Vannah
not
being here. I’m thinking she can’t not be here.

“Next month?” I ask, returning my full attention to her.

She nods, and I just stare at her. I’m not even completely sure what look is on my face. I know my mouth is cocked open, but I’m in so much shock I don’t even care to fix it.

“That’s fast,” I say.

“I know.”

I push my tray to the side. Suddenly, I’m not that hungry. Dillon and Josh set their trays down next to mine. But at their first sight of my face, they scoot to the other end of the table, instead.

“Does lover boy know?” I ask Vannah, ignoring Dillon and Josh.

“Yeah,” she says, lowering her head.

“Oh course,” I say.
Of course, he knew first.

“I broke up with him.”

“What?” The word comes out louder than I think either of us expected it to. Dillon and Josh both look up but then quickly go back to their square sandwiches after I shake them off.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “But what did you say again?”

“I...just wanted a clean slate, I think. Rylan was nice...but... He’s just not for me, I guess.”

My chest is heavy, but from somewhere, I feel a smile rising up. Though, I quickly check it before it gets to my mouth, and I clear my throat, instead.

“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

“It’s okay. It would have happened eventually.”

I find her eyes, and I just can’t help but grin a little after hearing that.

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but it’s nice to hear she knew it, too.

“Don’t,” she says, starting to smile. “Don’t you dare, Eben.”

She lifts the carton of chocolate milk to her lips and takes a drink.

“What?” I ask.

“Come on. I know you didn’t like Rylan.”

“No,” I say, dropping my gaze to the table. “I had nothin’ against Rylan, really.”

I glance back up at her and catch her stare. She’s got this pout glued to her face—the look she gets when she knows I’m lying.

I shake my head. “It was
you
and Rylan I had a problem with.”

“Eben!” She starts to laugh.

“What? You already knew that. Don’t act so surprised.”

She levels her eyes on me and holds them there for a few faultless moments. And it’s in those moments that I see her. I see the girl I spent my whole childhood falling in love with. She’s still there.

“Eben, I want to spend my last month here with you.”

I cock my head to the side. I swear I’m hearing things.

“You wanna what?”

She shrugs. “I feel like we haven’t spent more than ten minutes together in the last year.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Well, let’s fix that,” she says. “You’re my best friend, and I’m leaving here soon. Let’s have the most fun we’ve ever had.”

I’m not sure exactly if I can believe what I’m hearing. Sure,
best friend
isn’t maybe the best of titles, but if it gets me the opportunity to spend more time with her, I’ll gladly take it. I’ll gladly take whatever time I have left with her. I can’t even think about her leaving. And I won’t. I won’t even entertain the thought, until I have to. Until then, it’s me and her—
just me and her.
And I’m more than okay with just thinking about that.

“The most fun we’ve ever had, huh?”

I try to control my wild thoughts.

She nods her head and smiles.

“Okay,” I say. “I think we can arrange that.”

BOOK: A Bird on a Windowsill
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