It's Not Too Late

He was refusing to leave his room. He was refusing to eat his breakfast. He was refusing to say goodbye.

It wasn't goodbye, he would tell them, it couldn't ever be goodbye. And they would tell him, with some irritation as the minutes dragged on and grew longer, that she was waiting for him outside.

She wasn't going to leave until he said goodbye. With this in mind, he had decided that he wouldn't ever say goodbye. That way, she would never leave. She would stay forever.

As he sat in his room there were moments when he questioned why he was being so stubborn because he'd known that this moment was going to come some day. He wondered if it would be all that hard to say goodbye. He would think, 'Stumph, you're being ridiculous. She could never like you.'

After all, she was a beautiful young woman of nineteen years and he was a mere boy of ten.

She had a boyfriend, whom she had been dating for the past two years, four months and thirteen days, and he had not yet kissed a girl, let alone started his first intimate relationship with one.

He would cross the room from time to time and look out over the street. Her car would sit there in his driveway and she would be sitting in it, waiting for him to walk out of the front door. It was an old red car that she'd been given by her father. It used to be her mother's.

A couple times he was tempted to wave at her. A couple times he was tempted to throw a note down to her. A couple times he was tempted to shout her name and profess his undying love for her but he contained himself and walked back to his bed, time and time again.

"Patrick," his mother would say every five minutes or so, "She's still here. It's not too late to say goodbye, honey."

With every time that his mother repeated these words he was beginning to lose faith. Maybe this was going to be the end after all. He wasn't doing himself any good, sitting in his room and sulking. He hadn't ever told her how much he liked her but she was bound to know now. Perhaps she'd already known. The fridge magnets spelled, 'Rickster & Becca Friends 4ever'. That could've been a giveaway too.

There was a knock at his door. It was nearing two o'clock in the afternoon. If she didn't leave sometime soon, she'd be late.

How ridiculous is it, he thought to himself cynically as he slumped against his bedroom wall, that I am so attached to my babysitter?

Suddenly, somewhat out of the blue, the sound of a car's engine was heard and he leapt across the room and threw open his window.

Sticking his head out of the window he saw what he thought he'd see. He wasn't even thinking as he jumped from his window and slid down the gentle slope of tiled roof and hopped onto the green lawn below.

"Becca!" He called, waving his arms and running after her red car. Almost immediately the vehicle stopped and she emerged from it, looking amused and very knowing.

"Hey there Rickster," she smirked.God, he loved that smirk. "It took you long enough. I almost thought you weren't coming."

"What made you think that?" He asked, trying his best to remain calm.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, looking sarcastically thoughtful for a brief moment, "Perhaps it was the almost-two hours that I waited for a certain someone to stop sulking and come and say goodbye."

"I - I - don't go!" He cried out, throwing his arms in the air and looking more helpless than he ever had before.

"I'm coming back, Trick," she laughed and she smiled her reassuring smile. "There's Thanksgiving and Halloween and Christmas and New Years' and Easter and those special weekends when I'll get sick of my flatmates. Hell, I'll be here all the time."

"But Thanksgiving is ages away!"

"Not really, Trick." She wasn't taking this seriously. How could she not take this seriously? She was leaving! She was leaving him!

"But I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you too, babes," her expression softened and she enveloped him in a hug. When she pulled away he saw that tears were spilling onto her cheeks. "I'm going to miss this little town and I'm going to miss all the people in it - especially you, Trick. But I'm coming back, okay?"

"I don't believe you."

"But I promise."

"So? You break promises all the time. You're the worst promise-keeper ever. You promised to teach me how to sing like two years ago and --"

"-- Firstly, you don't need to be taught how to sing and especially not by me. Secondly, I'll prove to you that I'm coming back." And with that said she pulled her hat from her head of bright red hair and placed it on his. It was an indigo blue hat with a pink floral design. "I want that back next time I'm home, you hear?"

"I've never had a hat before," he said, not hearing her words. He touched the hat gingerly and blushed.

Becca quickly kissed him on the cheek, causing him to blush even more. She laughed and wiped her eyes, smudging her eye makeup.

"I almost forgot!" He blurted out as she turned to walk back to her car. Becca turned around again and watched him expectantly. "Bye Becca."

"Bye Trick. I'll be seeing you around."