Beck Oliver didn't think he could take the burden of heartbreak.
He could bench fifty pounds; he could run a mile faster and complete more push ups than any other guy in his gym class.
But he couldn't withstand Jade leaving him.
He watched with trembling hands as she paced the RV, a large box in hand, as she searched for the remnants of their time together, evidence that she ever loved him.
So far, she had taken the dozens of CDS that had accumulated on his nightstand over the years and a stupid poster of a band that he had once hated, but now he would do anything to see it on his wall again.
He would do anything to keep an essence of her: her scent, her ridiculous taste in music.
"Am I missing something?" Jade asked, more to herself than him, hand on her hip.
Beck didn't say what he was thinking: Me
"Then I guess I'll be going now," she said. She looked as if she was going to say more, but thought better of it, and slipped out of the door, out of his life.
Just like that, she was gone.
Beck sank onto his bed, pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes until all he could see was black. Until everything but the memory of Jade's face slipped from his view.