All the girls have been super emotional today about leaving Eastbrooke and their friends, so I say, “Don't cry, Kitty. Just think, next week we'll be on the beach in California getting married.”
She grabs my face tightly in her hands and kisses me. “I love you, Riley. I always will. No matter what happens. Please, don’t ever forget that.”
“I love you too, the soon-to-be Mrs. Johnson.”
She holds her stomach like she might get sick.
“Are you okay?”
She just stares at me, tears flooding her eyes and mascara dripping down her face.
“I’m not going to California, Riley. I'm going to Princeton.”
“What?!” I smile and flip her hair. “You're messing with me, aren't you?”
“No, Riley, I'm not. I have to go. My parents are waiting for me.” She grabs my face and studies it like she’s never going to see it again. “Goodbye, Riley.”
She turns her back on me and walks away.
My feet stay planted in this spot for what feels like an eternity, waiting for her to turn around.
For her to run back to me and jump into my arms and tell me she’s just messing with me.
That it was some kind of silly graduation prank.
But she doesn’t. She walks directly to her parents’ car, gets in the backseat, and shuts the door as they pull away.
Not once does she look back.
I stand in stunned silence, trying to process the reality of it.
The finality of it.
Keatyn bounds toward me and wraps her arm around my neck. “Where's Ariela? You two ready to party? Can you believe next week you'll be getting married? My little Riley fell in lurve at Eastbrooke and now he's getting married.”
“Ariela left,” I say, barely able to string the words together. Barely able to comprehend the thought.
“Where'd she go?”
“Princeton.”
“Wait, what?”
“She’s not going to California.”
Keatyn's demeanor changes and she grabs my hand. “What happened?”
“I don't know. She said she’s going to Princeton. Told me goodbye. Then she got in her car and left.”
“Oh, Riley,” Keatyn says, tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I nod, still in shock, not letting go of her hand as she drags me across campus to her car.
“Call her, please,” I beg.
She does.
“Voicemail.” Then she grabs my phone and tries. “She's not answering.”
“Her dad told me I'd never amount to anything. I laughed and said watch me. I think he got the last laugh.”
I look around. Visions of her are everywhere.
She was my world.
Sometimes I wish I could be young again. Do it all over. Fall in love for the first time. Feel the exhilaration. Count down the minutes of class just so I could kiss her again. Touch her face. See her smile. Feel the pride I felt whenever I walked through the halls with my arm wrapped around her.
I look down toward Hawthorne House where my dorm room was. I remember sneaking out and meeting her at the lacrosse field, some nights just holding hands and staring at the stars.
That’s what I miss most about her.
Just holding her hand, not having to say a word, but knowing she felt the same way I did.
Or at least I thought she did.
“This is the spot, isn't it?” Keatyn asks, bringing me back to the present.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay, Riley? Was this a bad idea?”
I wrap my arm around her in a hug, partly because I appreciate what she’s trying to do and partly because I just need a hug.
“Part of me feels like that eighteen year old. The feelings are still raw. But now I have ten years of maturity. We were young. There were signs. She'd kiss me and start crying. She said she was stressed about finals. I should have known something was wrong.”
“I was thinking the same thing too,” she says. “I remember that she was barely eating, but just blamed it on stress. Katie and I were a little worried she might be pregnant or anorexic, but we never would have guessed what she had planned.” She shakes a red and gold pompom in front of my face. “You ready to go cheer Eastbrooke to victory?”
I falter.
Keatyn smacks her forehead. “I’m sorry. Shit. I remember what she did for you before the Homecoming game. With the pompoms.”
“Ariela and I talked about that—the uh, the night we—”
“The TLF night?” Dallas asks, joining us.
“TLF?”
“True love’s fuck,” Dallas says.
“Okay, I've had enough memory lane. Let's go have fun,” I say, but it's a front. Everywhere I turn—everywhere I look— I see memories of her. Memories of us.
And I'm torn between remembering them fondly and wishing I could get a quick case of amnesia to banish them away forever.
Once we’re seated, a familiar face plops down on the bleacher next to me. “Gracie, what are you doing here?”
“I’m thinking of enrolling,” she says.
Keatyn is surprised to see her. “Does Mom know you're here?”
“Of course she does.” She turns to me. “Oh, look, Baylor is wearing your old number, Riley. He's only a sophomore, but he's the starting quarterback. We’ve been texting since I visited a few weeks ago.”