I've Got A Thing For You

Rory stood on the dock, the same place she’d been standing twenty-nine days before. A slight breeze pulled strands of hair from her ponytail, and she let them slide, falling across her face. It was one of the first times she had been alone the entire summer. She watched as the boughs of trees swayed in the breeze, the surface of the water rippling beneath the sun’s heat. Birds were chirping in the distance, adding a musical, dream-like quality to the afternoon. It almost made it easy for her to forget she would be leaving the next day.

She would never tell anybody except the voice in her head, but the last few weeks had been wonderful. There was swimming during the afternoons, the heat chasing them into the lakes, different lakes every day, Terry hitting on rural natives in dripping bikinis, Rory and Matt kissing in the shallows, Mason splashing them while Mac fiddled with a stereo. Nate and his girlfriend Melissa joined them, bringing cold beer and beach towels in hues of pink, orange, blue, green.

At night, there were campfires, sparks spiraling up into the sky, murmured jokes and stories, soft laughs and the crackle of dry, dead wood eaten by the flames. There was the mention of the word fireworks, and the raucous laughter that ensued. There were woven Indian blankets and mugs of hot chocolate when the temperature dropped just a little too far, and the northern lights still gleaming above.

On the weekends, there was dancing at clubs in Duluth, music beating loud, or slow dancing, just Rory and Matt, barefoot on the shores of Lake Superior, the only music the moonlight falling on their skin, and the waves slapping the edges of the dock. Some nights there was loud explosions of laughter in the dim back corner of an Irish pub, palms slapped on the table, football on the TV turned down low. There were choruses called for another round, foam sliding down the sides of a glass, and silent exchanges, hands clasped beneath the table and secret smiles.

And of course, there were the pictures. Rory filled her entire memory card with the pictures she took, candid shots of laughter, of jumping into lakes, of Terry in a headlock, of blue skies, snow-dusted mountains, sunsets, smiles, of Matt, Matt, Matt.

Never in the days following the knowledge that she would be staying in Minnesota for a month did she ever imagine she would miss it, but so much had happened, so many memories filling the spaces between earth and sky, that she wondered how she wouldn’t miss it. How she wouldn’t miss them, him.

Rory had spent her entire life missing people. When she was younger, it was her mother, the constant puzzle piece that she lacked. There were friends when she was still in school, but they were fleeting; she forgot their names within months. It was the same with guys. She met them, spent fabulous times with them, tried to keep in contact, failed, and eventually moved on. Her lifestyle just didn’t allow for close relationships, and it became easier for her to let go as she got older. And yet, with all the missing she did, she didn’t feel prepared this time around.

She didn’t know how she felt about Matt, only that a lot of her thoughts included the word didn’t. She didn’t want to stay, but she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to ruin what they had, but she didn’t want to say goodbye.

But the July issue of their magazine had already gone on shelves, articles written and pictures glossy on pages. Normally, the day it published, she devoured it in one sitting, reading what her father had written and checking out what pictures of hers he had used. This time, however, was different. She shoved her copy to the bottom of her suitcase without even looking at the cover. She didn’t have the heart.

“Hey!”

Rory turned. Terry was waving from the shore.

“Come on, they’re waiting for us!”

She tucked her hair back behind one ear. Slowly, she smiled.

The winds were changing. Already, the air tasted of autumn. But if Rory could have one last night with these guys she had come to love, she wouldn’t trade that for the world.

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“You’re ignoring me.”

Matt sighed. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“So why won’t you look at me?”

Matt’s head snapped up, and he glared at Mason. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

They were arranging cut logs around the firepit they had dug behind their cabin. After their former spot was made by the cops, they decided to improvise and make one closer to the cabin, complete with seats and everything, using a saw they had stolen from the maintenance guys at UMD. They figured whoever owned the cabin wouldn’t mind. Or, they hoped so, anyway.

Mason pulled his work gloves off, throwing them down on the log. He stared at Matt evenly, his blue eyes unwavering. “Touched a nerve, I see. Good.”

“Seriously, what is your problem?”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Tell who what?” Even as he asked the question, he knew it was pointless. He knew precisely who and what Mason was talking about. He just didn’t want to talk about it.

What was there to talk about? How much of a coward he was? How he had been turning the words over and over in his mind for the past three weeks, wondering how the hell he was going to tell Rory he was in love with her? No way. There was no point. Not only would she be leaving, but what could she possibly want from him? He wasn’t blind, he knew what he was. He was just some dumb jock from Tinytown, Minnesota, heading nowhere fast. What could he offer the girl who had seen the world?

No. He wasn’t going to do it. Another one would come along. What was that thing about fish in the sea? More. America, the Land of More. It was possible. He would survive.

Mason seemed to read his mind. “Dude, you won’t find another girl like Rory.”

“Oh, really? Aren’t you the one who always says girls are all the same? A dime a dozen?”

“Whoa.” Mason looked around, as if an angry swarm of girls would jump out of the bushes at any second. “Dude, I was drunk when I said that. But you know, that was before I met Rory. Now, I’m thinking there might be girls out there that aren’t total nags, that are fun and know how to laugh.”

“Well, if there are, then I’ll just find another one.” Matt started to turn away.

Mason grabbed his arm. “No, dude. You have to tell her how you feel.”

Matt shoved Mason aside, only half-playing. “Quit being all touchy-feely.” You don’t even get it.

“Dude, it’s okay, I get it! You’re scared she’ll reject you. But that’s what love is all about, right? Risk and reward.” Mason followed Matt as he stalked into the cabin, throwing open cabinets without actually looking for something. He just wanted to get away.

“See, it’s like hockey,” Mason started, but Matt slammed the cupboards shut, cutting him off.

“Do not compare this to hockey. This isn’t a game, Mason! Rory isn’t some fucking trophy. She’s…”

Mason stared at his best friend, his mouth down-turned. There was something like pity on his face. “She’s what?”

Matt thought of all the moments they’d spent together that summer, adding up to thousands of memories. What couldn’t he say about Rory? She was smart, beautiful, funny, mean, wonderful, creative, spoiled, odd…everything. She’s everything.

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Mason laid his hand on his arm. “That’s why you need to tell her. What if she feels the same, and you let this chance pass you up? You’ll regret it forever.”

As much as Matt hated to admit it, Mason was right. He had never been the particularly romantic type, but he did know eventually someday, he wanted to get married and have a family. As wild as she was, a large part of him could envision that with Rory. He had never been able to see that with any other girl before. It was a new feeling, but he liked it. It made him feel reckless, like at any second, he might burst at the seams, letting loose a triumphant shout.

But he didn’t, because the fact remained that he had to tell her. Even if she already knew, even if she rejected him, it had to happen.

Matt sighed, slumping his shoulders. “All right. I’ll tell her. But I’ll need a beer first.”

Mason clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“Quit acting like such a girl.”

Mason laughed. “You love it.”

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The sun was setting by the time Rory and Terry reached the cabin. Rory felt a pang, realizing this would be the last time she would see so many things: the cabin, the sunset, the guys. She knew it was coming, but it hit her hard, all at once, causing her stomach to sour. She pressed her lips together in a thin line.

Terry glanced at her sideways as he twisted the key in the ignition, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You okay?”

“Yep. I’m fine.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Terry, everything’s fine.”

“Okay, if you say so…”

She stepped out of his car, shielding her eyes with one hand. The air was much cooler than it had been earlier in the day, earlier in the month. She shivered, slamming the door shut. Without waiting for Terry, she followed the sound of voices.

The guys, plus Melissa, were out back at the firepit they’d dug. Everyone said their hellos, raising their beers in a unanimous salute. Rory smiled, before grabbing herself a beer from the cooler and taking a seat beside Melissa. Immediately, the other girl started talking about the party she had gone to the other night with Nate and some of the other people from UMD. Rory nodded along, barely listening, watching Matt out of the corner of her eye.

Normally, she would have gone and sat down beside him, poking fun at Mac and arguing with Mason while they waited for the sun to set. She couldn’t make herself, though. Every time she thought of Matt and leaving the next morning, her insides trembled like an earthquake was moving through her. She suddenly felt shy, unaware of how to act around him now that they both knew she would be gone.

She didn’t want Matt to be like the others. She didn’t want to keep in contact with him, only to fail. She didn’t want to forget him, and she didn’t want to move on. That terrified her more than the idea of going back to Syracuse, and she didn’t know how to face him, how to look him in the eyes. It was too much.

They talked and laughed, and the guys started playing hacky sack with an empty bottle. It made a hollow sound every time they kicked it. Rory tried hard to focus on what was going on around her, but it seemed impossible. Her mind was everywhere else: on Matt, on saying goodbye later that night, on the flight at seven in the morning, on how it would feel to be back in Syracuse. She was a ball of nerves, and there was only so much she could take.

Finally, she stood up, pulling her skirt down slightly and excusing herself. She carried her beer into the cabin, setting it down on the table and locking herself in the bathroom. She washed her hands robotically, avoiding her reflection. As she dried them on the one towel the guys had in the bathroom, she finally looked up.

She looked so different that she almost took a step back. Her dark hair had lightened to a honeyed brown, her skin tanned to a shade of gold. She was painted with the colors of the landscape; there was brown dust on her sandal-clad feet, her skin pine-scented, her nail polish lake water blue, eyes glimmering with northern stars. It took her a second to realize she was crying.

She wiped at her cheeks furiously, grabbing the towel and using it to dab at the makeup swimming beneath her eyelashes. Quit being stupid, she told herself. You’re crying over nothing. There is nothing for you to cry over.

But there was, and she hated it, hated the feelings that had chased her into the bathroom, that were swirling around inside of her now. She had loved before, briefly, passionately, physically. But this was something else entirely. This was everywhere, all at once, and it hadn’t just been one day, it was summer-long, and she was distinctly aware that it would continue after the summer, that she would go back to Syracuse and then somewhere else, some other dot on the globe, and she would feel it even then, and no amount of boys or men that she took comfort in would erase the hollow ache residing in her rib cage.

Get ahold of yourself. Remember who you are, why you don’t get invested.

Rory took a shaky breath. She fixed her makeup as best as she could, tossing her hair over her shoulders, and steadying herself. Clearing her throat, she left the bathroom, turning the light off behind her.

She grabbed her beer and reached for the doorknob. Before her fingers could close around it, the door opened. Matt was standing there on the steps; he blinked in surprise.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hi.”

They stood there for a second, before Matt coughed. “Um, Melissa wanted to do this thing right now so she asked me to come find you. I guess it’s a group thing… I don’t even know.”

Rory laughed, but it sounded fake. “Sounds great. I guess. So, uh, you want to--?” If she could pretend hard enough, it wouldn't hurt as much. At least, so she told herself. She gestured to the door, but instead, Matt stepped into the room with her and shut the door behind him. She frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.

“I needed to talk to you. Alone.”

Oh god. She forced herself to smile. “What’s up?”

“I just…” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, itching one of his eyebrows. “I don’t even know how to start, or how to say this.”

“So don’t.” Her tone was light, friendly, but underneath it, she was begging.

He continued on as if she hadn't spoken, taking a deep breath. “Rory, I think--”

“Matt, don’t.”

“--I love you.”

Rory took a step back. She felt queasy. “Oh.”

He grabbed her forearms, pulling her closer. She dropped her beer; it clanked to the ground and spilled across the wood floor, settling into cracks. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady her trembling legs, but it didn’t do much. She couldn’t look away from his eyes; they were burning through her. The words kept echoing in her head, drowning out all noise: Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.

“I really do. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, and I had to tell you before you go. I love you, I’m in love with you, however you want it."

She thought of the days they’d spent together, talking about everything and nothing, laughing until their sides hurt. She could still feel the nights beneath her skin; falling asleep in his arms had been her favorite thing about the summer. But she couldn’t think, and he was looking at her that way, and she could barely breathe--

“Matt, I--”

He pressed his lips to hers, erasing whatever else she’d been about to say. She kissed him back for two heartbeats, before she remembered: she was leaving. She pulled away, jerking backwards, breathing heavily. She glared at him.

“What?”

Her mind was whirling, her knees weak. “Why did you say that?”

“Say what? I love you?”

She groaned. “Stop it! Stop saying that.”

He shook his head, confused. “Why?”

“You’re spoiling this.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Spoiling it?”

Rory ran a hand through her hair, furiously pacing. She felt trapped; she wanted to run, far and fast. “Dammit, Matt, why couldn’t you just leave it?”

He scowled. “Because I don’t want to leave it! You’re the one leaving it.”

“What?”

“You're leaving! I want it to stay, I want…I want you to stay.”

Rory stopped and stared, her mouth hanging open. “You want me to stay?” A laugh tore out of her, harsh and short. Words bubbled up, sharp, meant to hurt, but she couldn’t stop them from spilling out. “And do what? Enroll at UMD? Go to class, share secrets with a roommate, eat microwave food six days a week? I can picture it now: you’ll carry my books for me, and I’ll join the cheer squad. They have cheerleaders at hockey games, right?” She did a half-hearted cheer motion, clapping twice, before she dropped her arms and shook her head. “No way.”

Matt was shaking his head. “Why are you being like this?”

“I’m being realistic. You should try it sometime.”

“I am being realistic. Why couldn’t we make it work?”

“What would I even do at your school? I wouldn’t fit there!”

They were both yelling now. “Staying to be with me wouldn’t be enough?”

“It wouldn’t be, and you know it!”

“Jesus, Rory, what would be enough? Someone else, maybe? Someone who has actually seen the world, instead of someone like me?”

"Someone like you?"

"I know what I am, okay? I'm not some worldly guy who has done stuff, you know," he stammered. "And I know I don't have a lot of money, or even a guaranteed future--"

"This isn't about that! Don’t make this about me not liking you, because I do.”

“Then why is this such a problem?”

“Because! You don’t…” Rory shook her head. Her body was buzzing like a live wire, and she didn't know how to form words from any of her foggy thoughts. “You don’t know me, not really.”

“That is such bullshit. You think I don’t understand why you don’t want to stay? Like I don’t understand being restless? I get it. Every single day, I wish I could get out of here.”

“The difference between you and me is that I would have.”

“So? I’d go with you.”

“But you can’t. Matt, you have a dream, okay? It includes being here, and continuing at this college. You love hockey, and I know that, because I’ve seen the way your eyes get when you talk about it. You have a plan. You’ll get noticed, you’ll ink a deal, and then you’ll live the good life. And that plan of yours? It doesn’t include me.”

His eyes looked bruised. “Well, why can’t it?”

“Because life is hard. Even without me around to make things more difficult, getting noticed by scouts is going to be tough. You’ll have people to impress, because you won’t just get this on a silver platter. That’s life; it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. And you know, just because you worked hard doesn’t mean it’ll work out.”

He shook his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to understand that just because you want something doesn’t mean it’ll work.”

“Why can’t we at least try?”

She wanted to scream. “Because there’s no point! It’s better to just cut our losses now.”

“Why do you have to see it like that?”

“Don’t you get mad at me for breaking the bubble, for killing the magic. You did this. You said love, and now suddenly everything’s broken.”

“You’re the one who won’t try!”

“There is no point when I already know it's not going to work." She shook her head. "You know what? I’m done. I'm not going to argue anymore. I’m leaving tomorrow, and that’s it.” Stepping around the puddle of spilled beer, Rory pushed past him, and yanked the door open. She practically flew down the steps, vanishing into the dark.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There had been all the time in the world, but suddenly, the hourglass had run out, the last grains of sand falling to the floor.

Matt watched Rory go, before punching the wall. His knuckles stung, the skin broken. Letting out a groan of frustration between his teeth, he stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind him.

Why was she making this sound like the end of the world? What was so wrong with being in love? He wanted to hit something again, even though his entire hand was throbbing. He’d been working the plan through in his head--she could go to UMD, doing something photography-related, and move into his apartment at the Arrowhead. She was normally so spontaneous, so adventurous, that he assumed she’d have no problem with it. It would be something new for her, and they could make it exciting. Instead, the entire thing backfired, exploding in his face.

More than the frustration and annoyance with her, he felt something else, an emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a fist to his side, trying to push it out from beneath his skin, but it just swelled, spreading further. His eyes were hot like he was about to cry, and that just made him angrier, sicker. He wanted to scream and break things and set fire to the entire forest.

They could be happy together. Why couldn’t she see that?

After pacing for about ten minutes and wanting to die for at least seven of those, he imagined Mason and Mac were probably wondering where he was. Steeling himself to the bitter taste on the back of his tongue, he took a deep breath and rejoined the group around the firepit.

Terry was in the middle of telling an engaging story, so nobody noticed Matt slip back among them, sitting beside Mac. If anyone had heard him and Rory yelling, they pretended they hadn’t effortlessly. Everyone was laughing at Terry; everyone except Rory. She was peeling the label off a new beer, eyes on the ground. As Terry’s story reached its crescendo, so did the laughter, before gradually fading off. Matt just watched Rory, wondering why, why, why.

“Anyway,” Terry said, wiping his eyes. “Now that Matt is back, we can do your thing, Melissa!”

Melissa's eyes brightened, and she clapped excitedly. Reaching behind her, she pulled a notebook out of her tote bag. Nate eyed it with distaste. “Um, babe, the point of summer is for us to not do homework.”

Melissa giggled and smacked him lightly. Matt watched them interact, imagining a time when Rory might have done the same thing. He felt like puking.

“It’s not homework, silly! It’s an idea I got from the other girls on the cheer squad.”

Almost unwillingly, Matt glanced at Rory. She was looking at him, a hard look in her eyes, like she was saying, See? He just shook his head, looking away. There was a hard lump in his throat and it hurt to swallow.

Melissa was still talking. “…but basically, we write down one fear, and put it in a hat or whatever. Then we pull them out. You have to guess whose fear you have. If you get it wrong, you throw it in the fire, and we don’t know who it belonged to.”

Mason frowned. “That’s dumb. What if we get it right?”

“The person has to explain why. After that, we do one hope for the future. Same thing.”

Mac and Mason grumbled a little, but Melissa glared at them. “Oh, come on. Rory and Terry leave tomorrow, and I wanted to do something meaningful. So suck it up.”

“Fine. Let’s do this!”

Melissa tore out a piece of paper, ripping it up into seven pieces and passing them around. She went first, folding her paper up, before passing the pen to Rory. Nate took off his hat and offered it for the fears. When the pen reached Matt, he didn’t even know what to say.

There were a lot of things he could write. He didn’t like cramped spaces, spiders were creepy, and badgers were equal parts dangerous and horrifying. He sometimes had nightmares about drowning, but that didn’t stop him from swimming or fishing. When it really came down to it, there weren’t a whole lot of things that bothered him.

Except maybe one, one that was on his mind even as he was sitting there. Hunching over so Mac couldn’t see, he wrote it down. When he was done, he passed the pen along.

When the pen reached Melissa again, all their fears were in Nate’s hat. She shook it slightly, before pulling them out individually and passing them along. When Matt got his, he unfolded it. Clownz.

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Melissa said. “Mine says feet. That’s definitely Mac.”

Mac sighed. “There’s nothing to explain. Feet are gross and weird and I don’t like them.”

Melissa made a face, holding up one dainty, sandaled foot. “Not even mine?” Her feet were freshly manicured, the skin smooth, the toenails painted with little flowers.

“Yours are okay. I guess.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and threw the paper in the fire.

It was Nate’s turn next. “Uh, mine says dentists. I’m going to go with…Mason.”

Mason scowled. “You asshole!”

Terry laughed. “Dentists?”

“They stick their fingers in your mouth. It’s not right.”

“Aw, were you touched as a child?” Nate joked.

“Yeah, by your mother.”

Everyone laughed, and Mason’s fear wound up in the fire.

Rory read hers off in the flickering fire light. “Snakes. Hmm… Melissa?”

“Nope.” Melissa grinned, leaning over and whispering, “That’s Nate.”

“Babe!”

Laughter. The fear fluttered into the flames.

Mason pointed across the fire. “Okay, this one says thunder, and I know for a fact that’s you, Melissa. I remember that time, with that storm at school--”

Melissa squealed, and buried her face in Nate’s shoulder. “I just don’t like loud noises,” she mumbled, and everyone laughed good-naturedly.

Mac unfolded his next. “I got letting go. Is that…Rory?”

Taking a sip of her beer, she slowly shook her head. Her dark eyes glowed in the firelight. The paper curled, turning black.

Terry squinted at his. “I got falling. You seem kind of jumpy, Matt, I’ll go with you.”

Matt shook his head robotically. He suddenly knew what Rory’s was, just as she knew his. Their eyes met over the fire. She didn’t look angry or sad, just…resolute. Like that was the way things were going to be, and she couldn’t change them.

He wanted to leap over the pit and shake her. They could change them. They both could. He hated her suddenly, for not wanting to give it a chance, for shutting it down before they could even attempt it. He hated her for making him feel that way, and then just ending it, just like that.

Falling and letting go. They were different, and yet not so different after all.

“Uh, Matt?” Mason was waving his arms. “It’s your turn, buddy.”

“Oh. Mine says clowns. That’s Terry.”

“Hey, how did you know?” Everybody started laughing and chattering, saying how they agreed, and Terry told a tale of his fourth birthday party, where he was certain the clown that had been there was drunk and tried to scare all of the kids enough that they would pee their pants.

Matt wasn’t listening. The laughter sounded distant, as he looked over at Rory. I don't hate you, he thought miserably. Not really. I just want you to stay with me, make the summer last every season, every day. You're everything. He tried to convey the message with his eyes, but it didn't seem to work. She was paying attention to her phone, checking the time. Matt’s heart leapt into his throat. She suddenly stood, pocketing her phone and draining the last of her beer. She gestured to Terry once his story was over and begrudgingly, he stood as well.

Melissa looked up, making a face. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“’Fraid so, Melissa,” Terry said, grabbing another beer and doing his best to shove it in his pocket. “We have a flight at seven tomorrow, so that means getting to Duluth around five-ish.”

A round of groans rose through the air, but Matt couldn’t speak. Everybody stood, talking all at once, offering hugs to the cousins. Mason and Mac did their secret handshake with Terry, while Melissa got teary and Nate hugged Rory goodbye. They all went through it, promising to keep in contact, and begging them to return the next summer. Matt knew they wouldn’t.

He stood when Terry approached. They hugged quickly, clapping each other on the back. “It was awesome meeting you, dude. I definitely need to come back here. What a place.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Sorry my cousin almost killed you a month ago.”

Though she had shed the bandage, the small scar near Rory’s hairline remained. It was Matt's favorite place to kiss her before they fell asleep. “I’m not.”

Terry grinned. “Well, if you’re not, then neither am I.” His smile faded. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“What?”

“About you and Rory. You two seemed pretty crazy about each other. Or am I imagining things?’

“You’re not. But…summer’s over. I have school, you know?”

Terry’s face hardened. “So that’s just it? You have school and she doesn’t so you’re done?”

“Dude, no.” Matt lowered his voice. “Rory is amazing, but we just thought maybe--”

“You both decided it was a mutual thing?” Terry snorted. “Yeah, right. I’ve heard that before. Let me guess: you wanted to keep this whatever-you-have going, and she shot you down?”

Matt thought about lying, but just nodded instead.

Terry nodded too. “Thought so. Did she agree to keep in contact with you? Because she always does that, and then stops. It’s so guys think they have a chance but--”

“No.”

Terry blinked. “No?”

“No. To be honest, we kind of got in a huge fight a while ago…”

Terry looked shell-shocked. “For real?”

“Yeah. I guess it’s over.”

He pondered that for a second, before glancing at Matt. “Do you want it to be?”

Slowly, Matt shook his head. He wanted nothing less.

“Huh. Well, um…I’m sorry. I really am. She’s just--”

“Don’t apologize for her. I know when something’s done.”

“Do you?”

They stared at each other evenly, each gauging each other. The way Terry was looking at him, Matt suddenly felt sure that he also knew whose fear belonged to who. Matt shook his head again, about to speak, but he was interrupted by someone sidling up through the shadows.

It was Rory, her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Hey. You ready to go?”

Terry looked away. “Yeah. When you are.”

“Give me just a few minutes.” She turned to Matt, and Terry took that as his cue. He ambled off towards their rental car, leaving Matt and Rory alone by the cabin.

Neither of them said anything for a long minute. She kicked at the ground, turning a rock over with the toe of one sandal. The pair she was wearing wasn't the white ones he had rescued from the lake. For some reason, that made his heart jolt.

“Matt, I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“I kind of figured you wouldn’t. I just wish…” Her words faded.

“You just wish what?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Raising on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek, and before he even had time to turn his head or say goodbye, she was gone, just like that, running through the dark, calling goodbyes over her shoulder that echoed, resounding around the fire and the cabin and the dark. Matt watched her get in the passenger seat, the others yelling well wishes and farewells. Terry gunned the engine, and their brake lights retracted into the night, two red eyes that eventually shrank into tiny stars that blinked out, and it was suddenly very quiet. Matt didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, are you going to do the hope thing with us?” Melissa called.

Matt didn’t answer. What was the point? His hope for the future had just driven off in a car, disappearing into the night, and he was never going to see her again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terry switched on the radio, but the station was fuzzy. Rory leaned her head against the window, staring out at the darkness. Her fingertips lightly touched the glass.

“You okay?”

Rory let out a breath, clouding the window. She began tracing shapes in it. “Sure.”

“Bummed to be leaving?”

“Eh.” Heartbroken.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, your dad and I got a surprise for you."

Rory raised her head, looking over at him. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, dummy. I’ll show you when we get back to the cabin.”

They arrived a few minutes later, and Rory stepped out of the car, feeling more tired than she ever had in her entire life. She felt like someone had just beaten her with a baseball bat: bruised and achy, bones splintering into dust. She honestly didn’t know if she would be okay--she had never felt anything like what was going on inside her, and if she didn’t know what it was, there was no way she could recover. Following Terry, she trudged inside, feet leaden.

Her aunt and uncle were already in bed by the time they stepped into the kitchen, but her dad was still awake, making sure they had everything ready for the next morning. He laid their tickets out on the table, and their suitcases were already packed and waiting by the door. Just looking at them made Rory’s chest hurt.

“Oh, hey guys,” Rory’s dad said, smiling at them. He checked his watch. “I honestly expected you later.”

“So did I,” Terry said, sending a sideways glance in her direction. “But we have an early morning, so it’d be better if we were in bed, right?”

“Sure thing. Hey, Ro, come here a minute.”

Rory did as she was asked, approaching the dining room table. Immediately, she noticed that there were only three tickets to Syracuse laid out. She frowned, looking down at them. “What’s this? Why are there only three?”

Her dad smiled. “Because you and Terry aren’t going to Syracuse.”

Rory glanced at Terry. He was grinning, too. “Then where are we going?”

“Australia!” Terry exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. “Me and you are going to Australia!”

Rory’s dad laughed at his nephew's exuberance. “I thought you could use some time off from working, and Terry mentioned that you wanted to go to Australia. We had to wait for the fall to do it; that way, it’ll be spring over there, and you two will have great weather. You don’t even have to worry about your luggage or a hotel or anything.”

“I don’t?”

“Remember that Australian girl I met?" Terry piped up. "We did some ads together for Abercrombie. Lovely girl, she--”

“Kendra. I remember.”

“Yeah, well, I got her to help me take care of everything! She’s letting us use her family's beach house, and I even already sent us new clothes and everything a few weeks ago. She’s got it all set up down there, so you and I can stay for a long while if you want.” His gaze said that he knew, but really, he had no idea.

“Well…” They were looking at her expectantly. “I don’t even know what to say.”

It was the truth. A month ago, she would’ve jumped at the opportunity. But now? Now she just wanted to climb in her bed and sleep for the next month. But this could be what you need, her mind whispered. Forget Matt. Find some chiseled beach bum with an accent. Get swept up. Do it all over again.

Normally, she would have immediately agreed with herself. But for some reason, just the thought brought tears to her eyes.

Her dad ruffled her hair. “Aw, don’t cry, kiddo."

"Yeah," Terry said. "You finally got what you wanted!”

Then why don’t I feel any better?