“What a day to wear white.” A sly smile slides across my lips because her shirt is like tissue paper, sticking to her skin.
Viola smiles and opens the middle console. She pulls out an envelope with a red wax seal stamped on the back. It’s been opened already. Before saying another word, Viola glances down at it, holding it a little too tightly. I’m not sure what’s going on until she hands it to me. I open the envelope and pull out the letter addressed to her in a fancy writing. The words seem to leak off the page as I read because I realize what this means. Viola is leaving, and it crushes me. I glance up at her and can tell she’s upset. She covers her face to hide the tears.
“Whoa. No need for that.” I open my arms, and she falls into them. After a moment, she pulls away, and I grab her shoulders.
“Viola. This is a huge deal. Please tell me you’re going.”
She looks up at me, her eyes finally meeting mine, and I can see a small glimmer of relief. “You’re okay with this?”
“Trust me when I say I want to be selfish, but you cannot pass this up. Union International? They choose five people a year for their internship program. This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and if you don’t go, I’ll withhold sex from you for the rest of your life.”
She snorts. “As if you could handle that. But what about us?”
I take her hand in mine. “We’ll make it work, princess. And you thought I was bad now? I’m going to be a greedy bastard with you until you leave. So dry up those tears. I know you’re going to miss the D, but it’s only six months. And we can video chat.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Plus, I’ll fly up to visit once a month.”
She finally cracks a smile. “But what if I’m offered a position at the end of my six-month term? That’s usually what happens, you know.”
Somehow, I didn’t think about that one, but it doesn’t matter. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Promise me, princess. Promise me you won’t worry about us, and you’ll take that internship. It’s the Harvard of all opportunities.”
I hand the letter back to her, and she returns it to the envelope.
“I promise.”
“Good.”
Leaning her head against the seat, she sighs. “I thought this would be easy.”
“What’s that?”
“Leaving. For years, I wished I could get away from it all. I wished something like this would happen. And now that it has…” Her words fade away.
“My mother told me that not taking risks is how dreams die. If you want this, go for it. Don’t let your worries, insecurities, or fears stop you. I’ve already told you I’m not going anywhere. I would wait a lifetime for you, and I mean it.”
“If you want to see other people—”
“FUCK NO!” I don’t even let her finish. “Knowing you’re mine, no matter how far away is enough for me. I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but I don’t want anyone else, Viola. I want you. Only you.” I lean in and tuck wet, loose strands of her hair behind her ear, and kiss the fuck out of her. She pours herself into me, and I don’t want her to leave. The distance will be hard. But over the years, I’ve learned patience, and I would selflessly wait as long as she needed.
But I can’t help but think about how Viola has always been around. I’m not sure I know what life is like without her, as odd as that seems. Even when Drew and I first moved closer to campus, she would still drive up on the weekends and pester us—mainly me—but she was here. Knowing that she’s moving in a matter of weeks doesn’t give us very much time to be together. We’ll have to make every moment count as the time clock ticks down.
Though I’m sad to be leaving, I’m relieved to have told Travis. He deserved to know as much as Drew did. But him knowing doesn’t make it any easier. I'm pretty sure it makes the decision even harder. All my life, I’ve been stuck in this loop of trying to make the best grades, and when it’s finally paid off, I don’t feel happy about it.
“Will you come inside?” Travis asks when we pull into the driveway.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Drew is on the prowl.”
“Fine. Let’s go somewhere else then.”
I’m confused, which seems to be happening a lot lately. “Uh, like where do you suggest?”
“Your dorm?”
I make a face. “Not quite. There would be three girls with cups on the door trying to listen.”
“Alrighty. I have an idea.” Travis picks up his phone and begins texting someone. His phone buzzes a lot, and at the end, he’s grinning.
“What have you done?” I question, warily.
“Let me drive. My surprise.”
“Are you sure you can handle Tatum?” I open the door and step out. He slaps my butt hard before he climbs inside.
“Handle Tatum? I will destroy him.”
Travis reverses out of the driveway, causing the wheels to squeal as he heads toward the stop sign. I’m pretty sure my car has never been driven like that.
“Oh my God. Don’t drive my car like you rented it.”
“I’m driving it like I stole it, princess.” He tilts his head at me as he accelerates toward the freeway. “But the good news is, we’re getting fifty miles to the gallon.”
We talk about everything and nothing all at the same time, not once bringing up the fact that our days together are numbered. As much as I try, I can’t help but think about how much I’m going to miss this. There are still so many firsts to be had, and Drew doesn’t even know. At this rate, we could probably hold off telling him until after I leave, not allowing it to disrupt what we have going on. If it’s not broken, maybe we shouldn’t fix it right now.
An hour passes, and I start to grow suspicious. Travis takes the exit off Highway 580 and loops under the bridge. I look past him and can see the choppy water of the bay. He slows, and then pulls into an empty driveway and a house with no lights on.
“Come on,” he says, turning off the car and leading me up the sidewalk by the hand.
On the front—surrounded by seashells—is the address. A big bay window faces the water, and I can almost imagine people inside looking out. The view is breathtaking.
“What are we doing?” I reluctantly ask.
“We’re walking.”
“Smartass.”
He types a code into the front door, and like magic, it clicks open. The inside is dark, and he runs his hand against the wall.
“Lumos,” I say, and as soon as I do, the lights flick on. “And you think spells don’t work,” I scoff.
“I never said that. You’ve obviously put one on me.” He leans his shoulder against the wall and watches me marvel. The house is beautiful. The ocean-themed décor, paired with the long wall of books, makes it feel cozy.
“Whose house is this?” I run my finger across so many classic books. It’s like I’m saying hello to old friends.
“An old college friend who owes me big-time. His parents bought him this house when he received his acceptance letter and a full scholarship. Instead of dealing with the hassle of selling when he moved to New York, he just Airbnb’s it. So...”