"Love makes me sick."
Pushing her plate away from her in disgust, she fumbled with her fingers.
At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "Every time I think about it, I lose my appetite."
"Ever think it might be because that's what love is? It's a feeling in the pit of your stomach. That can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, World Series kind of stuff."
Rolling her eyes, what does he know? she dumped the rest of her sandwich in the trash.
"This is a stupid movie."
"Says the one with wet eyes."
She hit him in the shoulder for noticing, not bothering to wipe her eyes and don't even think about asking her to release her grip on his hand.
"You know," he started, pulling her a little closer under his arm, "when Carly proposed this, I expected you to groan and complain through the whole thing, not start crying."
"I'm full of surprises."
With a slight laugh, he nodded, "You most certainly are."
"Now shut up. I can't hear Noah."
"I'm going to Massachusetts."
Rolling her eyes, she replied back dryly, "Mommy son road trip?"
There was an impatient sigh, and then, "No, Sam. I'm moving there. For college."
She really shouldn't have had so many expectations since when did she expect anything?
Hope just leads to disappointment.
And there's no worse feeling in the entire world.
(Except maybe heartbreak.)
"I really think we should talk about this-"
"There's nothing to talk about." He's just leaving her for God knows how long. Four years for school, three for grad, two for that precious internship-
In five, four, three, two.
"We could still be-"
"Don't you dare say 'friends'."
He's leaving.
"I love you, Sam."
Well it's a bit too late for that, isn't it?
"Have a good time."
Because they were supposed to have it all.
Because he was there and everything finally for once just felt right.
(How did it get so wrong?)
Because she thought this was love it felt like love like in the movies when the girl loves the boy and this isn't a movie and they just needed to-
How is she supposed to know what love is? Maybe she's kidding herself.
Love isn't real anyway.
How is it even possible that out of the millions of people in the world, you can find the one you're meant to be with? Your soulmate.
It's foolish to even consider it.
(Love is foolish.)
She was doing fine, just fine until it was nighttime with the monsters and the thoughts came back and why did he have to leave?
And all of a sudden she was spiraling which way is up? And the ground came up from under her and she fell.
And he wasn't there to catch her.
Why did he have to leave?
Four years later and she's going strong. Dead end job as a waitress, but the pay isn't bad. She even has her own apartment, a few blocks from Seattle Central community college. Thought she might as well get some sort of education if she ever wants to get out of this place.
She hasn't (consciously) thought about him since he left. Honestly, she's quite proud of her resisitance, of her strength. She has received countless calls throughout the years from Carly, crying over some stupid boy.
No boy could ever break down her shell.
(It might have been a bit different with him.)
Nope, not even-
"Sam?"
It's been four years. Four fucking years since she's heard that voice.
"… Freddie?"
"I…" One sip of coffee. "I never stopped loving you, Sam."
(Don't do this don't do this please don't do this.)
"Do you expect me to just fall into your arms? Come running back and just forget-"
"I don't expect anything." Another sip. "You've never been very easy to predict anyway. I just… need you to know."
What the hell is that supposed to do?
"Well, thanks for the info."
"You can't just ignore me, Sam."
"And why the hell not?" she shot back, eyes wild. "You did."
"Come on," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He looked tired. Much more tired than she remembered. "You're just as at fault as I am-"
"I'm not the one who left, Freddie. I'm not the one who never called-"
"The phone goes both ways, Sam."
(Well, she doesn't.)
He finally couldn't take it anymore.
"Why won't you just fucking talk to me?"
"Why do you always seem to think that talking's going to fix everything?"
"We've never tried it," he replied, smirking, "It very well might."
Bastard.
"Because talking hurts, Freddie. It fucking hurts and I don't-"
"This hurts more. I'm here, Sam. I'm back and I'm done with Massachusetts and-"
(Stop stop please stop.)
"And what?" she asked anyway, wincing internally at the breathiness of her voice.
He took two steps until he was directly in front of her.
"And I'm not going anywhere."
Because maybe possibly probably not things will finally work out for us.
Because maybe we will actually be in the same place at the same time for once in our lives.
Because maybe-
I love him.
And he loves me.
And if it's good enough for Noah and Allie, damn it, why can't it be good enough for us?
Because I'll be a fucking bird if that's what it takes.