Page 29 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone, sadness washing over me. I can’t stop the tears. I’ve lost him. I know I have.

That evening, I head to my parents’ house. I don’t miss the extra cars in the driveway. I sigh, debating on whether or not I want to go inside. I appreciate the idea of a party, but the last thing I want is an actual party.

But they went through the trouble of throwing it so I have to go inside.

“Surprise!” everyone shouts, though it’s not much of one.

I paste on a smile. “You guys didn’t have to—”

“Shut up and blow out your candles,” Aggie interrupts, shoving the cake toward me.

Nineteen flickering flames stare back. I make a wish—please let him come home—and blow.

The room erupts in cheers. A couple of friends from school along with Lisa are there. For a few minutes, it feels almost normal.

The party winds down around ten. Everyone leaves with hugs and promises to “do this again soon,” though we all know we won’t.

Aggie stays behind to help clean up. She doesn’t ask if I’m okay. Just hands me a trash bag and starts stacking plates.

“You know that boy loves you more than anything.”

I crush a paper plate in my hands. “Does he?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course, he does.”

I don’t believe her. How can I? There is no proof of his feelings. In fact, if I step back and look at the situation objectively, it’s clear he isn’t coming back and I’m not going to him.

When I get home, I turn off my phone. I don’t want to leave it on because then I’m just going to keep checking it to see if he’s texted or called. It’s better to make a clean break.