I don't know what I expect to happen the next day at school, but it isn't any of the things that actually do happen.

I want to talk to her about what happened between us. Last night meant everything to me and I need to know if it meant anything to her. I've never had this, this feeling, with anyone before and I can't go on in limbo like this. I need to know what it all means.

I want to ask about Ian, certain he'd flay me alive if he knew what I'd done with his girlfriend. I need to know whether she's even still his girlfriend, whether she has real feelings for him and, if she does, why she would kiss me if still loves him. I still don't understand it, her feelings for him, but I respect her decision, even if it kills me inside.

I want to make sure she doesn't regret what happened. Her suicide attempt is still so fresh in my mind that I worry the two are connected. I don't want to be a mistake, a bad decision...I want to be something she's certain about.

All these things are running through my mind, tripping over each other in a race to come out, as I wait by her locker that morning. In my pocket, I play with the little pinky ring she always wears – I found it on my floor this morning (stepped on it, actually), it must have fallen off yesterday without her noticing – the metal cold against my sweating palms.

When she approaches, she almost takes my breath away. She's always beautiful, but today, she's glowing. Mama would describe it as a 'Marilyn Monroe' moment, the way she'd always draw your focus in a photograph, even if she didn't know it was being taken. In the crowded hallway, she's the only one I see.

I can't remember the last time I've seen a smile this genuine on her face. And, perhaps selfishly, I can't help but hope I'm the reason.

"M-morning," I stutter dumbly, all my well-planned conversation starters vanished without a trace in the face of her breathtaking beauty, her stunning smile. I nearly trip over my own feet as I move out of the way of her locker. She's the only one who has ever made me feel like such an idiot and I don't entirely mind.

Ordinarily, she'd tease me, but today, she's too preoccupied. "Guess what?" she asks excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet a little. She claps her hands together and presses her fingers against her lips, almost like she's praying, in an attempt to hold back her enthusiasm. Before I get the chance to ask, she's already answered the question, "I found my father!"

I blink at her for a moment or two, unsure how to respond. I knew her father wasn't in the picture, something about a messy divorce that she wasn't too keen about elaborating on, but I had no idea she was looking for him. To my knowledge, she was still angry with him for abandoning her. "Have... Have you spoken to him?" I ask when my mind finally catches up.

"Not yet," she says. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink with excitement. "I don't want to do it over the phone. I need to see him, talk to him in person. He's in Nashville, I could be there in a day."

She's so excited and she clearly wants me to be happy too, but there's a nagging feeling somewhere in my gut that I can't ignore. "That's great," I say anyway, because I hate to disappoint her. "That's really great."

She frowns, able to see through my every facade. She quirks a brow, giving me such a 'mom' look. "You don't seem that excited..."

I sigh wearily. I don't want to argue with her. "It's just...you haven't seen him in a decade. A lot can change in ten years. I just don't want you to get your hopes up only to have them dashed when you get out there and find that he isn't everything you built him up to be in your head. He left you – what if he doesn't want to see you?"

"Anything's better than where I am now..." she says in the barest of whispers.

I can't argue with that when everyday I wish I had somewhere, anywhere, to go to escape.

We're both silent for a long time, not quite meeting each other's eyes, but understanding exactly what the other is thinking anyway.

"So," I say eventually, breaking the silence, "When are you leaving?" I want to argue and plead and beg her not to go, not to leave me...but this is something I know she needs to do.

"As soon as possible – tomorrow, if I can. If he finds out I'm leaving, he'll kill me, so I have to be careful. I'll pack a bag tonight, withdraw all my savings out of the bank, pretend I'm going to school and just...never come back."

My heart clenches. Tomorrow? "You'll say goodbye, right?" I ask, hating how weak and needy I sound as I say it, but needing to say it anyway.

"Of course," she says as if it's the most foolish question in the world.

I don't point out that the last time she tried to leave, she almost didn't say goodbye. Neither of us needs to relive the horror of that day.

I don't know how I'm going to survive without her, but I don't say that, don't say any of the things I want to say because it's just too hard, too painful. "Oh," I say, suddenly remembering the ring in my pocket. "You forgot this." I hold out the ring to her.

She takes it with delicate reverent fingers, a small smile playing about her lips. "My father gave this to me, when I was very young. It's a promise ring..." She gives a snort of ironic laughter. "Guess I broke that promise a long time ago." She extends her hand back towards me. "Keep it."

"I-I can't. It's special." I hold up my hands to refuse.

"Think of it as a way to remember me." She presses it firmly into my palm and closes my fingers around it.

The bell rings then and she presses a kiss to my cheek before bounding off to class. I'm rooted to the spot, clutching the ring hard enough that the edges all dig into my flesh. I didn't get to say anything I wanted to say, but it doesn't matter now. 'I'm losing her', I keep thinking, 'I'm really losing her.'

I'm frozen in place until the principal comes through the hall for the tardy sweep.