Title: Growing Upside Down (Ch. 4 of 5)
Note: Takes place between Soul Music and Hogfather, contains light spoiler-ish material for the former.
Disclaimer: No affiliation with Terry Pratchett or Harper Collins. No money is being made from this.

"Imp?"

"Susan!" He beamed at her from behind the counter and she felt a small pang; he was so clearly glad to see her and she'd been working so hard to avoid him since the trip to Ankh-Morpork. "Can you wait a bit? I'll only be a moment."

"I'll be outside."

She sat down on a bench outside the chip-shop, staring into middle distance. Miss Butts had put the seal on the seniors' school careers that morning with her fulsome, enthusiastic, yet surpassingly dull speech; now Jade was on her way home, and Gloria, and Cassandra, and Lady Sara, and all the others; by now, Susan guessed that she was one of the very few girls of her class still remaining in Quirm. There was a coach waiting to take her back to Sto Helit, but before she left, she had one more piece of business that she had to finish.

That piece emerged from the shop moments later in a fresh shirt. He blinked at her neat black dress and her hair (which had coiled itself into a rather prim bun that morning with surprising ease) and smiled. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you not in your school uniform," he said.

It's not, she thought, you just don't remember it.

"You look ... good. Older. In a good way, I mean," he stammered, and blushed. "Are you -- I mean -- what -- how are you?"

"Thank you. I'm fine. I'm leaving today."

"Oh." His face fell, but he gamely tried to keep up the smile. "To Ankh-Morpork, then?"

"Yes. Well, not right away. I mean, I'm going to Sto Helit to manage some things there and then I -- I've got a job. In Ankh-Morpork." She shoved her hands deep in her pockets. "I'll be governessing. Like I said."

"I'm sure you'll be wonderful." He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "So I -- this is --"

She nodded, momentarily angry that this was upsetting her. She couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't trite or awful -- I'll miss you? Take care of yourself? Have a good life? She took his hand and held it for a moment. "I'll write when I can," she said finally.

"I hope so," he said, and she could hear in his voice that he didn't quite believe her. "I'llll miss you."

"I -- yes." She took a deep breath. "Can you do one thing for me, Imp?"

He looked at her a little sceptically, and it occurred to her that she'd never asked him for anything before. "I can try," he said.

"Get out of the chip-shop and keep playing music and get the hell out of Quirm," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "In whatever order is most convenient. Goodbye, Imp -- I'm really going to miss you."

Before he could say anything else, she turned quickly and all but ran back to school. She flung herself into the coach and stared sightlessly out the window as the horses cantered off down the road.