“Alfie says a lot of things,” he tells her with a smile.
“Well, when I heard that, I thought maybe you were coming out here for more than just a few days. I thought you were coming to stay.” She shakes her head. “It’s silly, I know. We’re broken up, and you were with another girl anyway, but I just—I suppose I just wondered if there might be a second chance for us.”
“Margaret.”
“We let things slip. I know that. But you’re the only one I’ve ever loved, Hugo. And maybe it’s because of all these big changes, or maybe it was just knowing you were so far away this week, but I missed you.”
Once again she moves as if to take his hand, then realizes what she’s doing and stops. But this time, Hugo meets her halfway. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. The truth is, he’s not, really. It’s more habit than anything else. For so long, she was home to him. And now he doesn’t know what she is.
“There’s no gap year,” he says gently. “I’m heading home tomorrow, so nothing has really changed.”
This isn’t true. At least not for Hugo. Everything has changed. Just not in the way that Margaret was hoping. But he doesn’t tell her that.
“What happened to make you go back?”
Hugo twists his coffee mug in circles on the table. “It was too complicated with the scholarship.”
“Ah,” she says, understanding immediately. “They want all six of you. That’s rubbish, Hugo. I’m sorry.”
“It’s probably for the best,” he says, and then he looks up at her with a sheepish grin. “I lost my wallet somewhere around Chicago.”
She laughs. “Of course you did. But you would’ve been fine. You’re not as hopeless as you think you are. It’s just that you’ve never had to manage by yourself before.”
“That’s not—”
“You have a dad who’s used to shepherding seven-year-olds, and a mum who literally records every move you make, and five brothers and sisters to follow around. And you had me. You’ve never really had to look after yourself before. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t do it.”
He smiles at her. “Thanks.”
“Honestly, I’m impressed you were even thinking about it. I never would’ve expected you to—”
“What?”
“Go after what you want,” she says, looking almost apologetic, and Hugo stares down at his mug with a pang of guilt. Because he hasn’t done that. Not really. “What changed?”
Mae, he thinks, though he doesn’t say it. But they know each other too well for this, and he can see the flicker of hurt in her eyes.
“Ah,” she says. “Right.”
“I’m really sorry, Margaret.”
There are twin spots of pink on her cheeks, which is what happens when she’s trying not to cry. But she lifts her chin anyway. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I don’t know if I am,” he says. “But I’m working on it.”
“Well, you seem different now,” she says. “It’s like some sort of spark has been lit.” He can tell how much it pains her to say this, how much it costs her. She pushes back her chair and stands up. “Don’t let it go out, okay?”
He stands, too, then walks around the table to give her a hug. They stay like that for ages, her nose pressed into his shoulder, his chin against the top of her head. His heart aches, not because he loves her—he hasn’t for a long time now—but because he loved her once, and that’s something that never completely leaves you.
“Let’s not be dramatic about this,” she says eventually, stepping back and wiping at her eyes. “We already split up once. No need for a second round.”
Hugo laughs. “Okay.”
“So what happens next?”
“With us?”
“With you,” she says. “What will you do now?”
“Now?” Hugo says with a smile. “I’ve got a letter to write.”
When she wakes the next morning, Mae forgets where she is for a second. There have been so many new rooms, so many different views over the last week. But now she’s home in her own bed, the familiar sound of the nearby train whistle coming through the window.
She reaches for her phone, her heart falling when she sees there’s still nothing from Hugo. It can only mean he’s with Margaret, and that shouldn’t bother her. After all, they’ve already said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways. But still, there’s a pit in her stomach as she stares at the screen.
How’s SF? she types out, then immediately erases it.
She tries again: I miss you.
But she deletes that too. It doesn’t seem like enough.
What she really wants to say is: You have no idea how much.
And what she really wants to know is: Do you miss me too?
There’s a knock on her bedroom door, and Mae sits up, expecting to see one of her dads, but instead it’s Priyanka who pokes her head in. Mae stares at her for a second, then immediately bursts into tears.
“Whoa, you okay?” Priyanka says, hurrying over to sit on the edge of the bed.
Mae launches herself at her friend, folding Priyanka into the world’s tightest hug. “What are you doing here?” she asks, sitting back again and wiping away the tears with her sleeve. “You’re supposed to be at school.”
“Nah,” she says. “Pretty sure I’m supposed to be here.”
She kicks off her shoes and crawls into bed, too, and they lay on their sides facing each other, the way they used to do during sleepovers when they were little. Mae thought she was done crying, but a rogue tear slides down her nose. “Can you believe she’s gone?”
“I can’t,” Priyanka says solemnly. “It hasn’t fully sunk in yet.”
“Not for me either.”
“There was nobody like her.”
Mae’s throat goes tight and she swallows hard, suddenly anxious to talk about anything else. “It feels like magic that you’re here. How are you? How’s school? How’s Alex?” But before Priyanka has a chance to answer, Mae lets out a strangled laugh. “Alex!”
“What?” Priyanka asks, giving her a funny look.
“It’s just…I’m only now realizing how brave you guys are.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, you’re in love with each other, which is crazy enough,” says Mae, a little wild eyed. “But on top of that, you’re taking this huge leap by staying together in spite of all the time and distance between you. It’s totally bonkers when you think about it. But also really, really brave.”
“What happened to you on that train?” Priyanka says, laughing. “I sent you off insisting that love was like a pizza.”
“That’s the thing,” Mae says with a grin. “It turns out it is.”
Priyanka shakes her head in wonder. “What a difference a week makes.”
Afterward—once they’ve caught up more about Hugo and Alex and school and the train, once they’ve told a few stories about Nana that made them both cry, and made plans to catch up more tomorrow night—Priyanka heads home to get ready for the funeral.
Alone again, Mae walks over to her closet, riffling through until she finds a simple black dress, the only one she owns. When she pulls it out, she sees that there’s a piece of blue paper pinned to the tag, and even before she reaches for it, she knows somehow that it’s a note from her grandmother.
For a moment, she just stands there, hugging the dress. There are dust motes floating in the light from the window, and the house is quiet all around her, and she closes her eyes. Then she sits down on her bed to read the note.
Dear Mae,
I’m sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye. I know you’re probably angry with me. But you know how when you’re sick or scared, people always tell you to think of something happy? Well, I was thinking of you. Out there on your big adventure.
I hope you loved it. I hope you saw a lot. And I hope you fell for the cute boy on the train. You have one of the brightest hearts I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. Now go out there and let it shine.
Be good. Be brave. Be yourself.
I love you,
Nana