The rest of my Freshman Year of college passed by in a blur. I did well in all my classes, and even joined the school newspaper, making sure to send clippings of my first published article back home. Between school work, spending time with Kelsey and the rest of my sorority sisters, I didn't have much down time. Aunt Emily and I hadn't spoken on the phone since that day in December, and now it was nearing the end of May and I had a string of frantic emails from her questioning when I would be coming home for summer break. She wanted to plan a "Welcome Home Bonfire." I didn't have the heart to give her my answer.
"I mean, I love it, Kels," I told her excitedly clapping my hands. I looked around the empty apartment. It was small, but that was to be expected for an apartment in the city. There was two small bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, a miniscule kitchen, and a living room just big enough to fit a couch and a TV. The best part was the view. It overlooked the city skyline.
The way our Sorority worked, we didn't get to live in the house with the other girls until we were Juniors. Which meant for the year we had left, we had to figure out another living situation. Neither of us could take a whole extra year in the dorms, and we didn't want to have to go back to our childhood homes.
"Me too," she smiled at me. "Are you sure you're ready for this? Claire… you haven't been back home at all."
I sighed sadly, "I know. And yes, I'm ready. My parents said that they'll help me out however they can. Plus, I just started that waitressing job. I'm ready." My dad was one of the most successful lawyers in Seattle. Though it meant him often being absent during my childhood, he always made time for when I needed him, and my sister and I never wanted for anything. He was more than happy to help me out with my apartment.
"Alright then, let's sign a lease!" she said joining me in clapping my hands.
We were moved in within the week. We said a tearful goodbye to our first dorm, and grabbed the last of our bags before loading them in Kelsey's dad's car, which she had borrowed for the day.
When we made it back to our apartment complex we grabbed the last few boxes and made it up the four flights of stairs. The complex was on the older side, and we didn't have an elevator. Kelsey's parents were in the kitchen when we made it back, scrubbing it down with bleach. It was the last room that needed cleaning before we could begin unpacking our things.
"I'm going to go set my things in my room," I told Kelsey before making my way across the cramped space. When I emerged from my new room, Kelsey was locked in an embrace with her parents. My stomach twisted painfully as I enviously watched the sight before me. Her dad kissed her forehead, and her mom pulled her into one last hug. My eyes stung as the homesick feeling settled into my gut.
"Alright, girls," her mom, Brenda, said. "We're heading out now. If you two need anything we're only a forty-five-minute drive away." They both made their way over to me and gave me hugs.
"Thank you for everything," I told them with a genuine smile. "I appreciate you both so much. You've always been so welcoming towards me."
"You're a part of the family now, Claire," her dad, Rick, told me, affectionately pinching my cheek with a laugh.
I waited until Kelsey had gone to bed that night to make my phone call. I had gotten most of my room unpacked, only leaving my boxes of clothes sitting in the corner underneath my window sill. I was planning on organizing my closet in the morning. "Hello?" I heard my dad's gruff voice answer. I had probably woken him up.
"Daddy," I cried into the receiver.
"Oh, Claire Bear," he sighed. "What's wrong, baby girl?"
"I'm just missing home a lot tonight," I told him the partial truth. I continued to stare down at the photo in my hands. One of me and Quil that my aunt had captured. It was soon after my eighteenth birthday; we had been at her house watching the kids for her when we both passed out on the couch together. She snapped a picture of me burrowed into Quil's side, his arm protectively wrapped around me.
"How's the new apartment?" He asked me wearily. I loved talking to my father, because he was the only person that didn't try to convince me to come home. He recognized that I was a nineteen-year-old woman, and that I could make my own decisions. He recognized that I was heartbroken, and didn't ever make me feel like I was letting him down by avoiding my small hometown.
"It's good," I told him. "We're still getting settled in but I think we're going to be happy here."
I could hear the smile in his voice, "I'm so happy for you, Claire. But Sweets… now you know I don't like telling you what to do. Which is why I'm going to strongly suggest you give your Aunt Emily a call. Your mother and I can only dodge her questions for so much longer before we're going to have to tell her the truth. Besides, she misses you. I think it'd be good for her to hear your voice."
There was no point in arguing with him because I knew he was right. It was wrong for me to continually ignore her. "I'll call her in the morning, Dad," I told him honestly.
"That's my girl," he told me genuinely. "Now I know if it's late here, it's DEFINITELY late there. Get some rest, Angel."
"Night, Daddy," I whispered right before the line went dead.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I groaned, feeling around the covers for the contraption without opening my eyes. "Hello?" I croaked when I finally found it.
"Good morning, Claire," my Aunt's voice rang out, surprise clear in her tone. I'm sure she wasn't expecting me to answer.
"Morning, Aunt Em," I mumbled getting out of bed and trudging to the bathroom. I listened to her prattle on about my baby cousins (who I missed entirely too much) while I peed and brushed my teeth. "So, Claire, when is your flight to come back home?"
"Aunt Emily, are you alone? I need to talk to you," I told her seriously.
"He's not here, Claire," she knew me too well sometimes. "What's wrong?"
"Aunt Emily, I don't know how to tell you this but… I'm not coming home. I- I just moved into an apartment in the city with Kelsey. Last night was our first night here and I just…" I trailed off at her silence. "I can't come back, Aunt Emily," I began crying. "It's too painful to sit across the table from him and eat dinner, to drive by his house, to hang out with all his friends, and just pretend that he didn't crush me."
"Claire, he-" she began but I cut her off before she could finish her statement.
"Please don't defend him to me, Aunt Emily. Please," I begged. "I understand that he didn't want me in the same way, that he doesn't love me in the same way, but I am not okay with him pushing me to the side and acting like I'm nothing. Like we don't have sixteen years of history together."
"Oh my sweet girl," she blew out a breath. "I so wish he could see what he's doing to you. How his actions are affecting you."
"Aunt Em, I'm not exactly sure he'd care," I told her truthfully.
"Of course he would, Claire," she said sternly. "Things may have gone awry with you two but he does love you and I think it's important that you don't forget that. I know he misses you. He'd like to hear from you."
"If he misses me so much he can pick up the damn phone and give me a call," I just about growled.
"Claire, I'm not doing this with you."
"I'm not going to sit here and allow you to defend his actions to me," I told her growing angry. "When you see Quil next you tell him to give me a call and I'll tell him exactly how I feel about everything."
"I've barely seen him since you left, Claire," she told me sadly. It sounded like she was now crying too. "He doesn't come around all that often since you pulled that immature little stunt of yours. You knew he was here and you still made it clear that you had that boyfriend of yours in bed with you."
"That boyfriend of mine? He wasn't my boyfriend. He was just a boy that I was hooking up with. But none of you must worry your pretty little mind about him because I said Quil's name in my sleep, so the next day he called me a slut and gave me a black eye. So, something tells me I won't be hearing from him anytime soon." I blurted it all out in anger, and I felt white hot regret heat up my cheeks. The line was silent, and I knew I messed up.
"I'm telling your Uncle," she sounded deathly.
"No you're not. I only told you to make my point and I already wish I hadn't. I can handle myself. I have been for the past ten months with no help from any of you," I spat angrily ending the call and slamming down onto my dresser.