Prompt: “You’re a teenager and it’s the last day of summer break. This is especially painful for you because, over the course of those summer months, you fell in love for the first time and that person is moving away (and breaking up with you). Write the scene where you say goodbye (500 words or fewer).”
In early June, the yearbooks dispersed, filled with names, notes, and sometimes paragraphs of sentimentality. I signed the five or six of the people I knew personally. Then Nicole’s. She was a girl I’d never spoken to, but had observed often wearing A-cut dresses and cute block-pattern sweaters. I assumed she had an eye for simplicity, and I uniquely appreciated that, I think.
I left her a simple message, “Your fashion sense rocks!” and passed it on. Fifteen minutes later, she approached me, struck by receiving a compliment devoid of outright flirtation. She said she appreciated it, since her friends always criticized her judgement in the fashion department. In fact, her friends were going on a beach trip for the first two weeks of summer, while she had to stay home and help her parents pack for their move in August.
I told her I was staying home for the summer too, and if she needed any company to let me know. She smiled appreciatively again, and asked for my yearbook to write her number in. I went home crapping my pants about how to handle the situation. Obviously she wasn’t staying in the area for long, so, perhaps my stakes were low? On the other hand, I didn’t want to ruin her handful of weeks alone with no friends!
It was a small window, so urgency got the better of my discomfort. In week 1, we went to get ice cream and talked about how the school year made us want to scream. In week 2, we went to the state fair multiple days in a row, and talked about the state’s unfairness in a recent local lawsuit against farmers. By week 3, her friends were back… but she said she preferred to go see the new movie I’d been selling her on all week. Slowly my discomfort turned to extreme comfort. Week 4, we went to the mall of all places, and talked about how fashion had truthfully been leading to class discrimination since the dawn of time.
By week 7, we were hanging out 7 days a week. It was less about the location at this point, and more about the talk. We never ran out of stuff to talk about, which was perfect; it kept my mind occupied all the time. I could never shake the feeling that if I stopped rolling with it, the combo would be broken; the temporary nature of our friendship would solidify.
Week 8 passed at ludicrous speed X ∞. The last week. Then the last day. School started tomorrow. She left today. It was like a dream that I doubted was worth convincing anyone was real. We said our goodbyes. It was all surreal enough that I kept mine to a short “Good luck.” But she looked at me and said, “Thanks for this summer,” and it stabbed me right in the heart. I realized instantly I wanted to keep understanding her… but a bear hug would have to do.