Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between

“No, it’s fine. It’s great, actually. I’ve missed getting to talk to you about this stuff lately, especially since it’s been so hard to figure out—”

Behind Clare, the driver’s-side door is flung open, and Aidan drops into the other seat, looking over at both of them with an expectant smile.

“Ready?” he asks, and Clare gives him a startled nod.

“We’ll see you guys later,” Stella says, tapping the car door once before stepping back to stand beside Scotty, who lifts a hand.

“Yeah,” he says cheerfully. “Hopefully you’ll still be speaking to each other by then.”

Clare waves back, but the words send a little jolt through her. She realizes that he’s right. The next time she sees them, there’s a pretty good chance that she and Aidan will have broken up, and everything will be different.

“You ready?” Aidan asks, turning the key in the ignition.

Clare looks out through the dirty windshield, watching as Stella and Scotty walk off together, and then she nods. “Ready.”

As they drive, the headlights cut through the bluish dusk, sweeping across the town square and the train station, the library, and the park with its statue of a deer, stoic beneath a coat of blue graffiti.

Aidan is sitting low in the seat, one hand on the wheel, the other twisting the dial of the radio. He doesn’t have to ask the reason behind the next stop. They’ve been there together so many times that the drive feels almost mechanical, as if they’re not so much steering as being pulled in the direction of the beach.

Clare plays with the edge of her seat belt, where the fabric is frayed, twisting a loose thread around her finger. She can’t stop thinking about what Scotty said. For years, she’s been planning every aspect of her life—college essays and applications, extracurricular activities and sports, volunteering and homework—with an eye toward leaving for college. Yet somehow, she hadn’t managed to prepare herself for leaving Aidan, which feels so much bigger than the rest of it.

They’ve known for months that they’ll have to part ways tomorrow. No matter what they decide about the future—stay together or break up—it doesn’t change that. At six thirty tomorrow morning, Clare will start the long drive to New Hampshire with her parents, and just a few hours later, Aidan will be on a flight to California.

But now that it’s so close, she realizes just how deeply she’s misjudged the distance; for a long time, it had felt like something way out on the horizon, this moment, something she had to squint to make out, so far away it didn’t seem quite real. Until now, when it’s suddenly hurtling toward them at an impossible pace, so swiftly that it doesn’t matter whether or not Clare is ready for it. There’s no preparing at this point. There’s only steeling yourself. There’s only hoping for the best.

She leans back against the seat, letting her head roll to the side. “I wish you were driving me,” she says, and Aidan glances over at her. The radio has landed on a bluegrass station, and the sound of a guitar rises and swells in the otherwise quiet car.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“No, I mean tomorrow. It would give us more time.…”

“Well, much as I’d love to whisk you away, I’m sure your parents would be disappointed not to take you.” He smiles, but there’s something hard in the line of his jaw. “I hear this is kind of a big milestone.”