“I could stay here. Wait for you, be with you. But I’m not. It crossed my mind to—”
“River, absolutely fucking not. I wouldn’t let you even if you tried. You’re going to California, and you’re going to do some really amazing things while you’re there. Doing something for yourself isn’t selfish.” My lips say the words, but they aren’t the ones I want to say. I want to say that I wish he would stay. I can’t tell him that, though, because then I’d be the selfish one.
He sinks in his seat and puts his head in his hands. “You and I have something pretty amazing right here. I’m leaving that for what? To make it as a big fucking musician? That won’t happen and we both know it. Really, what are the chances?”
I take his head in my hands and look him in the eyes, wondering if this is the last time I’ll have the privilege of doing so. “The chances are zero percent if you stay here and wait around for me. You’re going to California, River Jacobs. And one day, I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen that I knew the River Jacobs before he made it big.”
We don’t go wherever he was planning on taking me. Instead, we climb in the backseat as rain starts to fall from the sky. My head’s on his shoulder and his arms are encasing me as a Springsteen song softly plays from the speakers. We don’t speak, because words can’t fix this, can’t make it better. Sometimes words only complicate things or make them worse. Sometimes, a tender touch is the only thing that helps.
When I get out of River’s car, it’s raining enough that my tears and the raindrops collide, enabling me to better hide my misery from him. Cars whoosh past us, kicking up water from the quickly forming puddles. Dark rain clouds loom over us and it’s the perfect goddamn setting for this shitty situation.
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Ava. I’m ready to say goodbye to this city, I’m ready to see what California has for me, but I’m not ready for you to not be a constant in my life. We just didn’t have enough time.” His emerald eyes are dark. The light that I love is dim and sadness pours out, spilling onto his cheeks.
“My dad always tells me something when I’m having a shitty day. That there’s going to be good days and bad days. You’ll have them both.” I smile at the memory, and then I almost start bawling. Because my dad is sick and River doesn’t know and I’m terrified. “He says good days and bad days…they’re both inevitable. But as long as you’ve had more good days than bad, you know you’re doing all right.”
River steps out of the car—the old Mustang that I’ll miss—and walks around the front of it, reaching for me and wrapping me in his arms as the rain falls harder, drenching us.
“Today is just one bad day, Riv. We’ve had way more good ones. We’re both doing all right,” I say, though neither of us feel all right.
I breathe him in, just in case this is the last time I have the chance to. He smells like the woods, spices, and home. I clutch the fabric of his hoodie, willing him to stay, while knowing he can’t.
We stand pressed tightly together as the rain and our tears roll down our cheeks in unison.
Track Thirteen: Runaways
by The Killers
AVA
I cave.
The next morning, I’m drained from sobbing into my pillow for hours on end and not sleeping. So, instead of heading to school, I decide to go to River’s. I glance in the mirror and see a puffy face with bloodshot eyes gloomily staring back at me.
Now, I’m waiting outside his parents’ condo because I know he’ll be leaving at any moment and I need to tell him how I feel.
River walks coolly out the double doors and I jump out of my car like a mad woman.
“Riv!” I flail my arms, running toward him. “Wait!”
He turns toward me, whipping his head around at the sound of my voice calling his name. When realization hits, his eyes grow wide, like he didn’t expect to ever see me again. Same, River. Same.
“I don’t want you to go.” The words are as sharp as the breath I’ve been holding in. I’m out of breath, out of time, and the look on his face is telling me everything I don’t want to hear. “Please, don’t go. I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. I know that’s shitty of me to say, especially now. But I had to. I had to at least try.”
“Ava,” he says, his voice sad and deflated.
I silently plead with him to look me in the eyes, but he won’t meet my gaze. Instead, he stands only a couple of feet away, staring at the ground. It feels like he’s already gone, and I feel like I’m going to fall apart right here. “I can’t stay here. I’m sorry, I—”
“Riv!” I beg, because it seems as if I’ve exhausted all other options. “Please! Didn’t you hear what I said?”
His eyes find mine now, but the River I love isn’t in there. These eyes are cold.
“You’re trying to get me to stay by guilting me? Ava, come on. Why are you doing this right now? We’ve talked about this. You know I’m leaving and you show up here like some crazy person trying to get me to throw away my dreams for you? A girl I’ve known for half a year?”
My body goes numb and the familiar sting comes, of tears threatening to escape my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “That came out wrong, but Ava, I cannot—”
I interrupt him again because my sadness has quickly been replaced by hurt. And when I hurt, all I want to do is hurt back. “Save it, Riv. I get it.” I turn to start walking away from him.
“Ava! Fuck. Please, just hang on a second. This is a huge surprise,” he calls after me. “Yesterday you were fine with this.”
I stop when I get one hand around my car door handle. Turning to him, with eyes that now match his own cold, dark stare, I say, “I wish I never met you, River Jacobs.”
Then, I quickly get into my car and speed away. I don’t look back at him, forcing myself to think of anything but the memories of him and his scent and his emerald eyes.
Track Fourteen: It Must Have Been Love
by Roxette
AVA
Day One Without River
I guess I’m the type of girl who writes in a journal now.
I’m upset. I’m sad. I’m frustrated. I’m annoyed. I’m mad.
My emotions are mixed up and tangled.
So, I guess I’ll start from the beginning.
River Jacobs. Even writing his damn name is hard, the pain is still so fresh. He left for California less than twelve hours ago. Left for California, and left me here, in Chicago.
It wasn’t supposed to end the way it did. I don’t know why I showed up at his parents’ to confess how desperately I wanted him to stay. Maybe because I’ve spent seventeen years looking for what River has given me in six months? I don’t know. I shouldn’t have told him I wished I’d never met him. It was dramatic and childish. It just came out before I could even think better of it. I don’t wish we had never met. I wish I could take it all back.