He didn’t want me. Why I needed to constantly remind myself of that fact was beyond irritating.
“Good-bye, Nick.”
He reached out a hand, and I only hesitated a moment before accepting it and launching myself into his arms. I hated the way I still wanted to be touched by him, but I loved him. I couldn’t shut off my feelings as easily as he had.
I breathed him in, my hands finding their way to the back of his neck as I committed him to memory—the curve of his neck, the warmth of his skin, the stubble on his cheek. His lips found my cheek and I closed my eyes, knowing it would be the last time that I would feel them on my skin. I wanted to remember how they felt, how soft they were, how gentle he was with me.
When he released me and stepped back, I almost gasped at the distance. It felt like I was losing him all over again. I had finally gotten to a place where I didn’t feel the pain of his loss with every breath, but now I felt like I would have to start rehab all over again to kick my Nick addiction.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box before handing it to me. “Open it later. After I’m gone, okay?”
I stared at it a second, trying to figure out what could possibly be inside. “Okay.”
“You’ll do great up north, Jess. You’ll be great. Go be great.”
He leaned down and placed another kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering too long, but I refused to complain. With a small squeeze of my shoulder, he hurried toward the door before turning back one last time.
“You don’t need the luck, Jess, but I wanted you to have it.”
Confused, I frowned as he disappeared from my sight. I wanted to chase after him, but chasing a man who didn’t want you was pointless. Even my broken heart knew that much.
The door slammed, and I stood there with the box in my hand, my heart in my hand, my pride in my hands . . . feeling overwhelmed and emotional.
“Jess?” Rachel said in a small voice, and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway. “Is he gone?”
I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak, I wouldn’t be able to find my voice.
“What’s in your hand?” she asked, and I shrugged. “Open it. Open it right this instant!”
I removed the top, and when my gaze landed on the red-and-white-striped poker chip nestled on the cotton inside, I almost dropped the box. He’d given me his grandfather’s lucky poker chip?
“Why the hell did he give you a poker chip?” Rachel asked, her expression as confused as my heart and mind.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“But does it mean something?” She reached for it but I pulled the box away. “Is it an inside joke between you two? I don’t get it.”
“It was his grandfather’s,” I said and then shook my head, not wanting to give away any more details of a story that wasn’t mine to share.
“Are you going to thank him for it?”
“Thank him for it? Thank him for what, exactly? Coming over here, confusing the living shit out of me by giving me this gift that supposedly means the world to him, when he refuses to stay with me because I’m moving four hundred miles away? No, I’m not going to thank him for it, Rachel.”
She threw up her hands in defeat. “Easy, tiger. I was only asking.”
“I know. Sorry. I just don’t understand him at all. I can’t take this.” I shoved the box into Rachel’s hand.
“What do you want me to do with it?” She pulled out the chip and flipped it back and forth in her palm, studying it like it held magical powers.
“Give it back to him. Please.”
“What if he won’t take it?”
“I don’t care. Throw it at him. Tell him it’s not mine to keep. Just tell him I couldn’t keep it, that it means too much to him and it shouldn’t be with someone else.”
She drew in a loud, dramatic breath. “He won’t like that, Jess.”
“I know. So you’ll do it, right?”
A wicked smile crept over her face. “Of course I’ll do it.”
I smiled back at my little spitfire roommate, feeling more conflicted than ever as I finished packing.
She was right—Nick wouldn’t like it—but I couldn’t care about that right now. Right now I needed to finish packing and start my new life without Nick, without Rachel, without State.
A new life I never saw coming.
Leaving Home
Jess
Leaving Rachel had been hard. The day my dad came to help me move out of our apartment, I couldn’t stop crying. I knew it was a combination of leaving behind my best friend, a school I genuinely loved, and allowing the emotions of everything regarding Nick to finally bubble up to the surface. Transferring to Northern was the best thing for my future and I never questioned that decision, but it still hurt to say good-bye when I didn’t really want to leave.
“I’ll miss you so much. As soon as you get settled, I’m coming up,” Rachel said.
“You better,” I said fiercely.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, chica. You’re my white girl,” she said with a smile before delivering a rapid-fire Spanish-filled rant she knew I wouldn’t be able to understand. When I rolled my eyes dramatically, she just talked faster, gesturing with her hands as she spoke.
“Stop!” I laughed through my tears. “You know I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“I know. That’s why it’s so fun for me. I was just threatening anyone who tried to think that they could take my best friend from me.” She stuck out her tongue before wrapping me in a tight hug. “Text me every day.”