This is What Goodbye Looks Like (34 page)

The sweetness of the scene makes a sudden wave of sadness wash over me. I’m going to miss being a part of this.

“Pretty neat, isn’t it?”

Tanya’s voice comes from behind me, making me flinch. I look over my shoulder and find her coming out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on a paper towel. She crumples it up and tosses it in the garbage can beside the door, then offers me a smile.

“Sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No problem.” I run a hand through my hair, wishing I could brush aside my dark thoughts just as easily. “Um, what’s neat?”

Tanya nods toward my table of friends. “That. You know, the whole tribal system thing you guys have got going at Harting. You’re all competing against each other for the best grade, but you manage to do it without ripping each others’ throats out.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seems kind of like a phenomenon to me. No offense, but smart kids are usually too dumb to figure out how to help each other.”

Her expression suddenly turns serious, her lips pursing into a sharp line. “You take good care of Seth, okay? He deserves the best. You seem like a pretty cool chick, but if you hurt him, I’ll make sure there’s hell to pay. And unlike you kids, I have no qualms about ripping out throats. Got it?”

I wish I could laugh. I wish I could brush off her threat, smile at how protective she is of Seth, and claim I’d never hurt him in a million years. But I can’t do any of those things, so I just say, “The last thing I’d ever want is for Seth to get hurt.”

Which is kind of true, but not quite. Seth getting hurt ranks high on my list of things I’d never want to happen. But my sister dying will always take the number one spot.

My answer seems to satisfy Tanya, and she smiles and claps me lightly on the shoulder. “Good, because you make him happy. So yeah. Thanks for that.”

I can’t answer right away, because I think if I open my mouth, I’ll end up crying. But I swallow back the lump in my throat and manage to choke out, “I’m glad I’ve been able to make him feel a little better.”

Tanya tilts her head. “Are you okay? You look like you’re not feeling so hot.”

I nod to the bathroom. “I just really have to go.”

She blushes and sidesteps, giving me space to head into the bathroom. “Oh, sorry. Go ahead.” Tanya starts walking back toward the kitchen and says over her shoulder, “I’ll see you around. Hope you enjoyed the meal.”

I barely have time to say “thank you” before she disappears around the corner. I let out a long breath, and I’m about to slip into the bathroom when I remember that I still have my camera in my purse. I glance back at the table—everyone’s still in the same position, except for Koda, who’s finished her treat and is now leaning against Seth’s leg.

I quickly pull out my camera, adjust the settings, and snap a few photos. Then I walk inside the bathroom and close the door, giving myself some privacy to look over the pictures.

Frustration hits me when I see that all the pictures on my small display screen are blurry. But then I realize there’s nothing wrong with my camera—it’s tears that are causing the blurriness. I quickly wipe them away with the back of my sleeve. Hopefully, when I leave Harting, I’ll go back to not being able to cry, because the tears are one thing about being here that I wouldn’t miss at all.

I look back at the photo on my camera’s screen. The soft light of the diner highlights the sweetness of the image, and the fireplace gives it a neat back-lit look. Seth is the focus of the picture, bordered on all sides by people who truly care about him. Even as his biological family is crumbling, this little makeshift family is surrounding him with a kind of warmth even the fire in the background can’t match.

In the photo, Seth is reclining in his chair and scratching Koda behind the ear, while Hannah pets the dog’s back. Maddie’s talking with her hands as she explains something that’s making Seth smile. Landon is reaching over the table, and as I zoom in on his figure, I can see him sneaking Seth’s phone away from where it’s resting by his plate. I have no doubt Landon will play innocent when Seth freaks out about losing it, just like I have no doubt Maddie will admonish Landon for the stupid prank and wrestle the phone away from her boyfriend, and they’ll all end up laughing.

I finally have the last photo I need for Parker’s project, the one that shows the twelfth and final step of the Hero’s Journey. It’s supposed to be the step where the hero happily returns home with his final reward from his journey, and this picture sums it up perfectly.

Seth has been through hell, but this is what he’s managed to bring out of it—a slightly unconventional family made up of friends who each love him in their own ways.

As I stare at the picture, I realize just how entirely stupid I was for ever coming to Harting. I wanted to figure out how to fix my family, but I can’t fix what I don’t have. And what I have back in San Diego isn’t a family. I have people I love back there, even if I hate them at the same time. I have people who I have a history with, who’ve cared for me in the past, who I’ve helped care for.

But a family? No, I can’t call them that anymore. Families stick together, and we are the definition of something that has fallen apart.

Now all that’s left is to save as many of the shattered pieces as possible.

Chapter Thirty-Two

When I get back from the diner, I start packing. I soon have two suitcases filled, and my chest squeezes painfully at the thought of leaving Harting.

I’ll leave as soon as I tell Seth who I am—it wouldn’t be fair to make him endure my presence once he knows. So I’ll break it to him in two days, maybe three—that will give me enough time to book a flight, let Dad know I’m planning to come home, finish Parker’s project, and give Maddie a chance to set up all the website stuff for the crowdfunding campaign. She’s promised to have the account created within a day or two, and she said she’d send me all the log-in info as soon as it’s ready.

I feel kind of bad using Maddie for this, but I’m clueless about techy stuff, and I know she’ll do a better job than I ever could at setting up the necessary webpages. And I owe it to Camille to make sure everything’s at top quality. As soon as all the online stuff is set up, I can take over without needing help. It’ll be a lot of work, but then again, I’m going to have a lot of time to myself when I get back to San Diego.

There’s a light knock on my door around two in the morning, interrupting the staring contest I’m having with my ceiling as I lay in bed. I wince as the knock comes again, this time a little more insistent.

I glance toward my closet, making sure the closed door is safely hiding my packed suitcases. Then I quietly call out, “Come in.”

The door cracks open, and I blink a few times, sure that I’m seeing things wrong. But nope. It’s Seth, looking sheepish as he stands there with Koda at his side and his usual mug of tea in his hand.

“Get in here,” I hiss in a whisper. “Ms. Thorne is going to kill you if she knows you’re here at night.”

He scrambles inside, and as soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he says, “I have good news.”

Of course. All I have for him is horrible news, and he picks now to tell me something good. It’s just my luck.

I raise an eyebrow. “Good enough to cross the campus in the middle of the night when it’s barely thirty degrees outside?”

“Well, it’s not like I was going to ask you to come to me.”

“You could have texted. Or called. Seriously, Seth, that was stupid. It’s about to start storming, and you could have gotten trapped out there.”

I’m not really sure why I’m being snippy with him. Maybe it’s just easier to keep him at a distance with anger than admit what I’m actually feeling, which is... I don’t even know at this point. Losing a boyfriend isn’t supposed to come with this much relief. What we have together has never been right, and I’ll be able to breathe easier without lying to his face constantly.

But even if my lungs will function better, I’m pretty sure my heart is going to shut down.

Seth flinches back at my harsh tone, and I rub my hand over my face, wishing I could just scrub the image of his pain from my mind.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I tried calling, but you weren’t picking up. And you weren’t answering my texts either, so yeah, I was kind of worried. I figured I’d come over and make sure you were okay.”

I glance over at my desk, where I have my cell phone turned off. I hadn’t wanted to deal with anyone calling, but I’d forgotten to turn it back on after a while. I let out a long sigh and shake my head.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” I say. “I’m just...I’m in a weird mood, okay?”

He makes his way over to my bed and stands by my nightstand, where he sets down his travel mug. The warm scent of Earl Grey tea floats over to me, and I breathe in deeply, savoring it. Koda nudges my knee, and I gently stroke her silky ears.

“Did something happen?” Seth asks.

Yes. He happened.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Really.”

He rests a hand on my shoulder, like he wants to give me something to lean against. “You never mean it when you say you’re fine.”

I bite my lip. I could argue, but the truth is, he’s right. Besides, I’m not going to argue with a guy whose heart I’m about to break. “There’s nothing on my bed if you want to sit,” I say instead.

He nods his thanks, still looking a little defeated, and sits on the edge next to me. Koda hops up on the mattress and settles her head in his lap, and he runs his fingers through her scruff, the motion natural and automatic.

The sight makes some of the buzzing anxiety in my head cut out. I need to be realistic. Yeah, telling him who I am is going to sting like a bitch, and he’ll never forgive me. But he has other things in life to support him, and he’ll get over this. He’ll move on and be happy again eventually. He’s already gotten through so much, and even if adding to his miseries is unfair, it’s not going to break him.

“Brie called,” he says. “That’s the good news. Bailey’s fever broke, and he came out of surgery okay. They’re keeping him in the ICU for a day, but his doctors think he’s going to recover pretty quickly.”

I fall back, letting my pillows catch me. Most of me feels like laughing hysterically in relief—I might not know Bailey, but I know Brie, and she’s the last person who deserves to lose a family member.

But a small part of me feels a sickening sort of jealousy. Bailey gets to live, and I’m sure everyone in his family is ecstatic. And they should be, of course—he’s obviously precious. But it just doesn’t seem right that while Bailey’s family is celebrating his life, my parents are letting Camille’s slip away.

“I’m so glad,” I say, and it might be complicated, but it’s true. After the hell Brie’s been through, she more than deserves this stroke of luck. I grab Seth’s hand and tug him down next to me. He quickly wraps me in his arms, and I rest my head on his chest as I say, “I can’t even imagine how relieved Brie is.”

“She’s happy, to say the least.” Seth fingers a lock of my hair, twirling it around his thumb and then slowly letting it unravel. “She wanted to call you, you know. I told her to put down the phone and get some sleep, but she made me promise I’d tell you right away.”

I kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for coming to tell me. Seriously. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

He rubs the small of my back, his touch light and soothing. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, trying to memorize every detail of him. His warmth, the soft murmur of his heartbeat, his scent of fresh snow and tea.

He traces the edge of my jeans, his fingers grazing over my stomach. “Is that why you’re wide awake and dressed at two in the morning?” His tone is filled with quiet concern that warms and saddens me all at once. “Are you just worried about Brie? Or are you worrying about your sister, too?”

“I haven’t stopped worrying about her for months.”

“I know.” He bites his lip, hesitating a moment before he says, “It might work. The crowdfunding campaign, I mean. I really think you have a shot at saving her.”

I reach up and trail a finger along his lips, tracing his small, concerned frown. I wonder if I’ll remember how handsome he is when he turns into nothing but a painful memory.

“Is it really even saving her?” I ask, finally voicing the question that’s been gnawing at me. “If she’s just a helpless vegetable for the rest of her life, does it even count as saving anything?”

Seth goes quiet for a moment, and for some reason, that makes me feel better. He’s actually going to consider my question and not just answer with what I want to hear.

“What do you think?” he finally asks.

Definitely not the response I was hoping for.

“I have no idea,” I admit.

“Then why are you trying so hard to stop your parents from pulling her life support?”

I swallow hard. “I...I guess I’m just being selfish. I love my sister. I don’t want to let her go, and I don’t think I’ll be able to, even if she dies. I’m pretty sure it would just kill me, too.”

“Maybe you are being selfish,” Seth says. He brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Love makes us do really stupid things.”

I laugh and hope Seth doesn’t notice the slightly hysterical tone. “Tell me about it.”