“You can keep the tote bag if you want,” I tell her. “Paige, I haven’t worn or used more than half of this stuff for six months.”
By the time I’m nearly finished with the stuff in the closet, there are three boxes full of clothes and shoes in my room, some of which I’ll try to make some money back on; the rest I plan to give to a secondhand store.
“Are you low on cash or something?” she asks, sitting on the end of my bed. “I can loan you some money if you need it. You know that.”
“No, it’s nothing like that—I’m saving up to buy new camera equipment,” I tell her and close the first box by tucking the flaps in on each other in a crisscross pattern. “I figured I’d get rid of what I don’t need to make room for what I do.”
We say nothing for several long, quiet moments.
I continue to pack away the last of it—I’ve been doing a lot of things like this lately when I’m at home, to keep my mind busy.
“Sienna, I’m really worried about you,” Paige finally says.
She crosses one leg over the other, pressing the palms of her hands into the mattress, her arms stiff at her sides. “I know you miss him, and I hate it that things didn’t work out, but you just don’t seem yourself. I’m starting to worry. You’re not yourself. You’re—”
She wanted to say something else, but she refrained. It won’t be long though.
I smile at her and close the second box.
“I’m OK, honestly,” I tell her. “I’ve just been making some changes in my life, is all. Things I should’ve done a long time ago.”
“Giving away all of your stuff?” she says, waving her hand about the room. “Refusing to go out partying with me anymore?”
“I told you I’m fine,” I say. “No, I take that back—I’m good. I miss Luke and I wish things could’ve turned out differently, but I’m good.” I smile hugely and motion my hands out at my sides. “I’ve spent more time with my camera in a month than I think I have all the time I’ve had it. I have Luke to thank for that.” I point at her briefly to underline that last statement.
Then I add suddenly, “And I have gone out partying with you, Paige, so you can’t say that.”
She holds up two fingers. “You went twice,” she says with a smirk. “And the second time you left early.”
“Because the only reason you had me there was so you could fix me up.” I grin at her.
She rolls her eyes. “That wasn’t the only reason,” she defends.
Paige gets up from the bed and steps around the boxes on the floor, making her way to my desk by the window. She picks up my cell phone and slides her finger across the screen.
And here it comes …
“Have you called him?” she asks.
I step around the boxes, too, and take the phone from her hand before she can start searching my text messages.
“No.” I push the phone into the back pocket of my jean shorts.
“Why not?” I feel her eyes on me, her blond head cocked to one side, but I don’t look at her directly.
“Because it’s for the best.”
Bending down, I grab a box with both hands and stack it and the others against the wall by my bedroom door.
“Now, this is where you can’t convince me that you’re good,” Paige says with accusation.
Silence ensues. I stop in the center of the room with my back to her.
“You need to know, Sienna.” She walks up behind me. Her voice is careful and soft and intent. “Even if you can’t be together, it’s gonna mess with your head forever unless you pick up the phone and find out if he’s OK.”
“I can’t.”
I walk away from her and take the box off the top and decide to carry it into the living room instead. There’s no purpose to it other than to not talk about this, hoping Paige will drop it. But I know she won’t. She never does.
She follows me into the living room.
“Then open the damn letter, Sienna,” she says, and I stop cold in my tracks, the box getting heavy in my arms. “If you won’t open it, I will.”
The box falls against the floor in front of me with a thud. I turn around briskly to face her.