Adapt (I)
Chapter Fifty Nine

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The day wears on, and I endure it in a daze. It is both the best day, and the worst. I spend time with Clarke, play sparring the back yard. I dig in the sand pit with Tamara. I chat absently with Jess and Caron around the kitchen island. Before I know it, the light outside is dimming and Jess asks Trent to start the barbeque. Before they can start something for Boe, he excuses himself under the guise of business with HQ. He thanks Jess and Trent for everything before slipping out of the front door.

Boe’s leaving releases some of the tension from my shoulders. As much as I hate lying in general, I have been doing it for most of my life. Lying to Caron, Trent and Jess is so much easier than lying to Boe.

But Boe leaving is also my que to start my departure.

I sneak away from the kitchen bench, feigning to need a shower. I go to the bedroom and shove the last of my stuff in my bag, checking to make sure that Boe’s phone is still there. On a stray piece of paper, I scribble down the email address log ins that Chandler had sent me. I label one for Caron, and one for Jess and Trent. The last one is for me.

I write a short note for Trent and Jess:

I’m sorry. Please look after Phoenix. Thank you for everything.

I love you all.

To Caron I write:

I love you.

Thank you for being the best friend a girl could have.

I’m sorry for so many things: leaving without a word; for not hugging you one last time, but I am the sorriest for not telling you earlier about who I really am. You deserve a better best friend.

I understand if you don’t want to talk to me after what I have done, but if you do, I got you a private email address. I will write to you.

I love you so much.

The tears are running down my cheeks by the time I finished writing both of the notes.

Slipping from the house is a simple matter. I squeeze my way through the bathroom window that puts me in the side pathway of Trent’s house. I quietly unlock the little gate that leads to Trent’s front yard, and beyond that, the street. Since everyone is in the back yard, I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing me through the front windows.

The sun is just touching the horizon. I take one shaky breath before I begin to run.

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I take a few moments to say goodbye to my little beach hut. I had sat on the front steps so many times, cooling off after a run. I had parked my Jeep in the driveway religiously, every day after school. I had turned the key in that front door so many times. I could almost hear Phoenix’s bark from the backyard.

I rub my eyes. Jesus Christ, I have to stop crying. This is defiantly not the first time I have packed up and skipped town. I mean, it is the first time in nearly ten years, but the principle should be the same, right? I am older now. I should know how to deal with change better.

I shake my head. I have never left behind a life like this. This life was complete, even if it was a little dysfunctional. How ironic: the moment I have everything I could ever want - family and friends that know the real me and accept it - is the moment it is forced from my hands.

I turn from my house. I cannot look at it any longer. I get into the driver’s side of my Jeep, throwing my duffle bag in the back without looking. Tears are following from my eyes silently now. I cannot control them, but at least I am not a blubbering idiot just yet.

No, I save that for the road just outside of Green Haven, as the finality of it all hits me. Sobs break from me as I grip the steering wheel with white knuckles. Uncertainty mixes with my resolve. The conflicting emotions seem to battle in my mind.

Rustling in the back-seat holts my ugly crying.

I swing my head to look back. “What the fuck?!” I screech.

Boe gives me a narrow-eyed, angry smile. “You really should keep your eyes on the road.”

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