The sun was beating down, as is typical in Arizona. But that would soon change. I was saying goodbye to the sun, for an indefinite time period.
The car pulled into the airport.
My mother, dear sweet Mom, said, once again, "Bella, you don't have to do this."
I started to say "I want to—" but I stopped.
Why? Why was I so determined to leave everything I'd ever known, to exile myself to a tiny town in the middle of gray, soggy nowhere? My parents (well, Mom and Phil) wanted me to stay.
I realized something. I wanted to stay. I'd be taking care of both my parents. Charlie wouldn't be bothered with taking care of me living with him full-time.
I took a deep breath, and turned to face my mom.
"Actually, I change my mind. I don't want to do this. I want to stay."
Whatever adventures may have begun from moving to Washington, whether or not I met the boy of my dreams there, I never found out. But I was happy here. And that was what mattered.