I stood on the front porch of my old house, clutching my suitcase as if it could somehow hold all the pieces of the life I was about to leave behind.
My childhood best friend, Brent, stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. He hadn’t said much all morning, just watching as I packed my things. It was strange seeing him so quiet — Brent was always the one filling the silence with dumb jokes, making me laugh even when I didn’t want to.
Tall and lanky, he somehow managed to stay skinny no matter how much we ate together. He looked like the typical nerd with his messy hair and glasses, but there was a handsomeness to him that made girls in our school take a second glance.
I forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You’re gonna miss me, huh?"
His lips twitched, but he didn’t meet my eyes. "Depends. Will I finally get to stop being your personal chauffeur?"
I rolled my eyes. "You’re going to miss that more than anything, and you know it."
Brent kicked a rock off the driveway, still not looking at me. "Yeah, maybe."
I swallowed hard, hating how awkward this was. This wasn’t how I pictured our last day together. We were supposed to be making stupid jokes, not… whatever this was.
I glanced back at the house. It didn’t feel like home anymore, not since Dad decided to move in with my new stepmom and her daughter in the city. It was like I had been displaced, shuffled from one life to another without much of a say in the matter. My mother’s old garden was still there, overgrown now, but nothing else felt the same since she passed away.
“So… when do you leave?” Brent finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Anytime now,” I said, adjusting my grip on the suitcase. “My dad’s coming to pick me up soon. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
He nodded, but still didn’t look up. "Right."
I bit my lip, searching for something to say to make this feel less... final. “We’ll keep in touch, you know. It’s not like I’m disappearing. I’ll text you, and you can come visit me in the city.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. “Sure.”
I frowned, stepping closer to him. “Brent, come on. Don’t make this weird. We’ve been best friends forever. Nothing’s going to change that.”
His jaw clenched, and he finally looked at me. His eyes, which were usually so easy to read, were shuttered now, like he was trying to hold something back. But I didn’t want to assume anything. He’s Brent, he’s like a brother to me.
He let out a frustrated breath, his shoulders tense. Then he turned to face me, his eyes locking on mine. “I should’ve said this a long time ago, but... I couldn’t.”
“Brent, what — ?”
But before he could answer, the sound of a car horn blared from the street. I whipped around to see my dad’s car pulling up, dust kicking up as the tires rolled onto the gravel.
Brent gave me a crooked smile, his usual playful glint dimmed but still there. “Go kick some ass in the city, Bethany. You’re gonna be great.”