1st 5 Pages January Workshop- Spizziri

Name: Sammi Spizziri

Genre: Young Adult Contemporary

Title: After I Bid You Adieu

“I can't believe you never told me about Kace.” Liv crossed her arms in front of our locked dorm room.

Kace. I hadn’t heard his name out loud since the night I’d left. The boy from home, the one I used to call my best friend. I tucked my phone in my pocket and let my hair fall in my face, as if hiding the evidence would make this conversation disappear.

“I’ve lived with you almost a year and you’ve never mentioned him. Why haven’t you mentioned him?”

I pushed past her, balancing the take-out sushi bags and fumbling for my keys. “Thanks for opening the door.”

“Don’t change the subject, Evie—” She lifted the plastic bag from my hand then let it fall right back, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh. You like him.”

I dropped my keys, then clutched the take-out bag to prevent it from the same fate. All I'd said after she saw the text notification on my phone was Kace and I used to be friends, and yet she’d drawn her own conclusions. “No, I don’t.” The butterflies in my stomach and the flash of warmth on my face proved it wasn’t true. But I had to focus on making a difference in the world, not getting stuck in our too-small hometown. Kace, with his flower shop and a heart set on staying in Ridgeview, would only get in the way of that.

Liv made a scoffing sound and nudged me aside, scooping up my keys from the ground.

I’d been so good about not daydreaming of him lately, which had been easier here, hundreds of miles away from Ohio, especially once he stopped contacting me. But memories of him surfaced anyway, mixing up my insides.

Sticky popsicles on his front steps, kicking rocks on our walk to school, slow dancing at prom. I could still remember the feel of his arms around my waist, his heart beating against mine. And that look in his eyes moments before the DJ switched to a fast song and he let go.

The door banged open, and my focus shifted back to now, the city sirens loud, the traffic droning.

And Liv dragging me into the room. “Does he like you?”

A year ago, I finally knew the answer to that question, but it came too late. I was packed and decided, with no desire to stay. I broke away from her grip and sat at my desk. “It doesn't matter.”

“Why are you here when there's a guy back home waiting for you?”

I set down our food on the coffee table. “He’s not waiting. And I have a boyfriend.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “That's the first time I've heard you call Alex that.”

“What? Alex and I have been together since the beginning of the year.”

“Yeah, exactly. And how many times have you talked about your relationship?”

My hand stilled on the chopsticks in the bag. “We don't need to.”

“Did you and Kace ever talk about those things?”

Kace and I used to be really good at talking, up until the last time we saw each other. Then he said too much, too late, and ruined everything. “We were never together.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“I don't want to talk about this.” I grabbed my sushi roll and plopped at my desk.

But she was beside me in a second, leaning against my desk, like a collector spotting a priceless antique at an auction. “What happened? If you like each other, why aren't you together?”

I opened my saved essay on my computer. Anything to prove this conversation wasn’t important to me. “I have homework.”

“It’s the first day of summer classes.”

“Well, I have to do well this semester. Audio journalism requires a B average.” This was true, but something I hadn't really worried about. I'd always managed to get by in high school and so far, college seemed to be the same.

“I’m not letting you slide on this one. I need an answer.”

“He's there and I'm here. And I have things I want to do here.”

“Like make podcasts?”

“Yes.”

“And you can't do that back home?”

My head shot up. “No, I can't.”

She tapped her finger along my desk, hovering.

I sighed. “You don't get it, Liv. My hometown is a trap. If you don't leave after high school, you never will.” Kace knew that. He’d even planned to leave with me. Up until his dad left, and he changed his mind.

“Is that such a bad thing? Trapped with someone you love?”

I popped open the container. “Any sort of trap holds you back from doing what you want to do.”

“True,” Liv said. “But forcing yourself to settle for the wrong person is a trap of its own.”

“I thought you liked Alex.”

“I do. I'm still deciding if he's right for you.”

“How can you say that?” Alex understood me like no one else. When I sat beside him in Weather and Climate at the beginning of the year, I found myself studying him, drawn in by more than his tan skin and styled hair. Something about his high-intensity habits mesmerized me. The bounce in his knee that never stayed, the repetitive picking at stray hangnails, and the constant movement of his hands. When I was with him, I didn't think about anything or anyone else.

My phone rang, muffling Liv's thoughts on Alex. I turned back to my desk to silence it, expecting a telemarketer, but froze when I read the name: Dad. I scooped it up, my thumb hovering between the red and green buttons. It'd been a few weeks since his last call, but I already knew how our conversation would go. It was the same every time, making small talk as we struggled with what to say.

Still, it was better than talking to Liv about Kace. “I have to get this, Liv.”

She ignored me, asking a question about Kace's looks I was grateful to avoid.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, Evie.” His voice was more upbeat than usual, like the life it once held was back. At the sound of it, I was home, the scent of cinnamon potpourri and peppermint tea threading through the house. But I knew that wasn’t home, not anymore, and I forced down the lump in my throat.

“How are things?” I asked as he said, “You all packed to come home?”

I exhaled. Coming home? I pulled the phone away from me to glance at it, like it might give me a clue about how to have this conversation with my dad without upsetting him. “Oh, Dad, I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” His voice tightened, more like the one that typically came through the phone during our clipped conversations this past year.

“I’m staying in New York this summer.”

Silence filled the line. Not the deadened, dropped call kind, but the kind where you knew someone had heard and didn’t like what you'd said. “I thought we’d agreed you’d be home every summer.”

“I’m sorry, I have classes to take, and—”

“Evangeline Marie Daniels.” His voice was hard, and once he said it, I realized I’d never heard him speak to me like that. With my two older brothers, he'd used that tone a million times. Mom handled my discipline, and she had a different way of approaching everything.