August, 1987

Lindsay looked out at the lights glittering in the darkness as they drove home. Her head felt heavy against the headrest from the alcohol. She tried to block out the bitter disappointment that was building up inside her, but it was no use. He was leaving tomorrow, and she would have to accept that everything that had happened in the last year had amounted to nothing.

Maybe in a year when they were living near each other again it would still be the same, but she didn't believe that. She knew he wanted to put this behind him. She understood why, but it didn't make her feel any less angry. Why would he want things to go back to how they were before when this was so much better? Now he was going to go to college and she was going to stay home and maybe he would find some college girl and try to pretend this was just an embarrassing phase that was best forgotten, when it was the happiest she'd ever been.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't make a move, not after what had happened on the Fourth of July. She felt another stab of pain at the memory. She wished he knew how much he'd hurt her. He probably did know, he just tried not to think about it, how hard it had been for her to build up the courage to even hold his hand and how it had felt when he pulled it away. But maybe now things would be different. That night when they'd gotten home he'd looked through his college guide just like he'd said he would and put together a list for her, and just now he'd held her hand. He'd held her hand. But as much as she wanted to believe that he wouldn't reject her again, she knew it was probably wishful thinking. Maybe he would kiss her back, or maybe even more (a little thrill went through her at the thought), but even if he did, what would happen after that? She had a hard time imagining him wanting to be in some sort of long-term relationship with her. No, he would just say it was a mistake and that it was disgusting and wrong and then things would be awkward between them and everything they'd built over the last year would be ruined.

But maybe it was worth the risk. She had to be with him, she couldn't handle the possibility that they might go through their whole lives without ever even acknowledging that there was something between them. And what if this was the best chance she was ever going to get and she was letting it slip away, or maybe it already had? She just needed more time. If she had another month she could figure out what to do. Right now she was drunk and confused and frustrated, but he was still leaving in the morning and there was nothing she could do about it.