THE GIRL WHO WAS LEFT BEHIND

CLAIRE ANDERSON 

The airport departure gate smells like stale coffee and nervous sweat, and I've been holding Greg's hands for the last ten minutes, gripping his fingers like they're the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, too bright and too harsh, and I can feel him pulling away from me one careful inch at a time. This isn't how goodbye was supposed to happen. This isn't how any of it was supposed to happen.

"Claire, we need to talk." Greg's voice is flat, rehearsed, like he's practiced this speech a hundred times. His hazel eyes avoid mine, darting toward the security checkpoint. "I've been thinking about this for weeks, and I've come to a decision."

My stomach drops. "What decision?" My voice sounds thin and reedy, like it belongs to someone else entirely. "You're coming back, right? We talked about this. I said I'd wait for you. I don't care how long it takes."

He finally looks at me, but there's nothing warm in his gaze anymore. It's the coldest I've ever seen him. The boy who used to trace patterns on my palm while I studied for my entrance exams is gone, replaced by someone who looks almost annoyed to have me standing here. "That's what I want to talk about," he says slowly. "I don't think we should stay together at all."

The words don't make sense at first. They bounce around inside my skull like loose change, clattering against each other without forming any coherent meaning. "What are you saying?" My grip on his hands tightens, but he doesn't squeeze back. "Just because you're going abroad doesn't mean—"

"It means everything, Claire." He pulls his hands free, and the motion is so sudden that I stumble forward half a step. "I've been thinking about this for months. Long distance doesn't work. And honestly, I don't think I can focus on my studies if I'm constantly worried about you."

"We can make this work." My voice cracks in the middle of the sentence. "I just got my admission to college, Greg. I'm on the pre-law track. I'm going to be a prosecutor. We're both starting new chapters. I'll do whatever it takes." I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes. "I've loved you since we were seventeen. You can't just throw that away."

"I'm not throwing anything away." His voice is maddeningly calm. "I'm being realistic. You're starting college, Claire. You have your own path. Our paths are going in different directions."

"I don't care about paths. I care about you. We promised each other, Greg. You promised me you'd never leave."

"I was young." He says it like it means nothing. "We were both young. We said things we didn't mean." He reaches for my shoulder, but I jerk away.

"Is there someone else?" The question escapes before I can stop it. I don't want to know the answer. But I have to hear him say it.

The silence stretches between us, and Greg's jaw tightens. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture I've seen a thousand times, and I know before he even speaks. "My parents have been talking to another family. There's a girl. Her father is a partner at a prestigious firm abroad. My father thinks it's a smart match. They've already met. They like her."

My throat closes. "A smart match." The words taste like poison. "You're leaving me for someone your father approves of."

"It's not like that." But he doesn't deny it. He doesn't say he loves me. He just stands there, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I have to think about my future. My family has expectations. You don't understand what it's like to have that kind of pressure."

I laugh then, a bitter, hollow sound that turns the heads of nearby travelers. "Luxury? You think watching my grandmother work herself to exhaustion so I could afford my college application fees was a luxury?" My voice is rising, and I can't stop it. "I don't come from money, Greg. I don't come from connections. I thought you loved me anyway, but I guess that was just another thing we said when we were young."

Something flashes in his eyes, something that looks almost like guilt. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "I'm sorry, Claire. I think it's best if we go our separate ways. You deserve someone who can give you what you need."

"You've realized that now." My voice cracks on the last word. "After everything we've been through. You meet some girl your parents like, and suddenly I'm not worth fighting for."

"Please don't go to a bar or do something you'll regret." He reaches out to touch my cheek. His fingers against my skin feel like a stranger's touch. "Your grandmother needs you. You start college soon. Don't throw that away because of me."

"Don't." The word comes out sharper than I intended. "Don't pretend to care about me now. You made your choice. You don't get to be the one who walks away and then tells me how to live my life."

Greg's expression shifts, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm sorry, Claire. Take care of yourself." He turns and walks toward the security checkpoint without looking back. The glass doors slide open for him, and I watch him disappear through them. They slide shut behind him with a soft hiss, and my whole world goes quiet.

I stand there for a long time, frozen in the middle of the terminal. Strangers brush past me, muttering apologies. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't do anything except stare at the glass doors and wait for him to come back. But the doors stay closed. His plane takes off without me.

My phone buzzes against my thigh. My grandmother's name flashes on the screen: "Come home, child. I'll make tea." Tea. Such a simple, ordinary thing. Tea won't fill the hollow space where my heart used to be. I need to drown everything in something stronger than tea.

I type back: "I need space."

The response comes almost immediately. "Promise me you won't do anything you'll regret."

I slide my phone back into my pocket without replying and push through the heavy glass doors into the cold New York City night. The sky is a bruised purple and orange, the last rays of sunlight bleeding away into darkness. I'm supposed to go home. I'm supposed to let Emily hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. But right now, none of that matters. College starts in a few weeks, and I should be excited, planning my future. But Greg took everything I thought I had and threw it away for a smart match. The only thing that can save me now is something strong enough to make me forget I ever existed.

I walk without direction, without purpose, without any destination in mind. The neon lights of the city glow like distant stars, and I follow them into the darkness. I know I can't go home. Not yet. Not until the worst of this is over. The city sprawls around me, indifferent to my pain, and I let it swallow me whole.