If only he knew the truth behind that statement.
MY PARENTS and Zach left for the restaurant twenty minutes ago. I stood in my
bathroom with the shower running, telling them that I was running late and would meet them there. Little did they know that I would never make it there. Last night before going to bed, I sat out on the back deck with Zach just talking. We talked about the fall, and he tried to find out what was next for me after deferring college for the fall. I told him I wasn’t sure but would be spending the summer trying to figure that out, and that wasn’t a complete lie. I do plan to spend the summer figuring out what’s coming next, just not here.
I don’t know how much time I have before they’ll start calling, so I have to be focused and get this done quickly. When the coast is clear, I run downstairs and pull my SUV into the garage so I can load it up without worrying about someone passing by and possibly tipping my family off to my impending departure. I quickly grab the boxes I put together late last night and stored in my closet and throw my belongings in there: my clothes, photos, important documents, the money I’ve been withdrawing from my bank account over the past few weeks so my parents wouldn’t notice huge withdrawal amounts, mementos, and the rest of Emmett’s belongings that I’d packed up from the apartment.
A rush of memories fills my mind, and I struggle to fight back the tears. I know that come end of summer I would have been packing this room up to head to college, but it wasn’t final. I would still be able to come home when I wanted to and for holidays, but this is different. I need to start fresh and figure out what the new plan of my life will be without Emmett in it. Most eighteen-year-olds might not know their path either, but since I was thirteen, I had planned on only one path. It may have been naïve to think that I could have met my soul mate at birth and create our plans so young, but that was our life—there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him and vice versa.
Maybe that was the issue, that our lives were consumed by each other that there was no other foreseeable end but heartbreak, but I just never expected this. That’s the thing with death, I guess—no one expects it. I mean, we all know that it’s inevitable, the only constant in life, but we are so caught up in our own worlds and problems that we have this thing where we think we’re invincible and death only comes to us at old age, not when people are just starting their lives.
It takes eight trips to load everything up in my car—well, sixteen if you count going down and up the stairs. Wiping the sweat across my forehead, I am worn-out. Maybe I shouldn’t have packed so much. I take one last look around my room and swallow the lump in my throat. This is going to crush my parents and Zach. I need to stop thinking about it before I change my mind. I wipe away the tears falling down my cheek as I take one last look at the room I grew up in—the one I had slumber parties with Haylee in and danced around to Katy Perry for hours, where I told my mom I was in love, where I used to get in popcorn fights with my brother and have heart-to-heart talks late at night. It was the place where I would share my deepest secrets with Em, watch movies, and laugh. I could sit at the window and watch him and Zach play basketball in the driveway even though they both sucked at it. This was my space to be me since I was a little girl. If only those walls could talk of the good times and bad, the heartache and the friendship, the love and the bonds. It would also speak of goodbye.
I at least had the decency to write a short note for my family. Too bad I’ll be gone by the time they get back from the restaurant and see that I’m gone. “I’m sorry,” I say aloud but not really to anyone. Maybe it’s to myself, maybe it’s to my parents in hopes that when they walk in here and find my note they would hear my voice, or maybe it’s to Emmett, wherever he is now. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to face this all without him, that I have to leave.
By the time I close my bedroom door and walk down the stairs toward the garage, my phone buzzes.
ZACH: Hey, are you on your way?
I ignore the text and keep walking to my car. When I get in and start it up, I sit there, close my eyes, and take three deep breaths…
One.
Two.
Three.
I can do this. I have to do this. I have to be strong.
I pull out of the garage and down the driveway, refusing to look back on the life I’m leaving behind.
“Dani, where are you? We’re all here waiting for you to get here so we can order. Can you call and let us know you’re at least on your way?” – Dad
“Danielle Kathryn Jacobs, this isn’t funny. What is this note? You left? When will you be back? This isn’t funny. Call us.” – Mom
ZACH: Where are you? Are you okay?
“Danielle, it’s mom. Where are you? Please call someone back. It’s been two months. We…I need to know you’re okay. Please, sweetheart, call us. I love you.” – Mom
MOM: Danielle, I need you to call me! Please!
MOM: Please just let us know you are safe.
“Dani, for fuck’s sake, you need to cut this shit out and come home. You’re being a bitch making Mom worry about you. We’re all worried about you. Just let someone know you’re fucking alive!” – Zach
ZACH: We need you. I need you.
HAYLEE: Just tell us where you are and we can come get you.
HAYLEE: I miss you!
“Where are you? Please talk to me, D. I need you back here.” – Haylee
“Enough is enough, young lady. Get back here now. I know you are hurting—we all are—but this is not how you go about doing this. When we told you it was time to move on, we did not mean this shit.” – Dad
“Getting ready to leave for college. I don’t know where you are, but I wish you were here.” – Haylee
“Dani… You know what? Fuck this shit.” – Zach