Page 77 of The Summer List

I have to get out of here.

The thought repeats a few more times in my head, and when none of the washrooms show any sign of opening, I push off the wall with a grunt and speed-walk down to the other end of the hall, the one blocked off by a chain with a ‘staff only’ sign hanging in the middle.

I ignore the words and duck underneath the chain. I hear some clanging over to my right, where I’m pretty sure the kitchen is, but all my focus is pinned on the door I spot with an exit sign above the frame.

I heave myself against the push bar and stumble out into a dark and narrow parking lot with a giant dumpster sitting up against the wall of the building. The door shuts with a click behind me, and I gulp down a huge breath of cool night air as soon as I’m cut off from the din of the bar. The only noise I hear now is the hum of some distant traffic and the echoing bark of a dog.

I lean against the hard brick wall behind me and focus on slowing my breath. I’ve just managed to get my heartbeat back to a somewhat normal pace when the door swings open and sends my pulse skyrocketing again.

“Andrea!” Naomi steps over to me with her eyes flared wide. “Priya said she thought you were sick. Are you okay?”

She tilts her head to the side and looks me over. The concern in her face makes my chest ache harder than it has all night.

“I, um…” My voice sounds wheezy, and I stop to cough. “I just got kind of warm.”

She nods, the tension in her posture easing. “Oh, for sure. It’s packed in there. It’s actually really nice to be out here, even though it’s a little cold tonight.”

She claims a spot against the wall beside me, close enough that our arms are almost touching, and I squeeze my eyes shut for a second as I fight the urge to turn and kiss her so hard this all goes away, if only for a moment.

That’s the problem. It would only ever be for a moment—one perfect, shining moment before the rest of our lives rush in to push us apart.

“You did, um, hear the poem, right?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her staring down at her shoes as she nudges a few stray pebbles on the pavement. The question is tinged with a mix of hope and nerves that makes me go weak.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss it. You were incredible.”

At least I can tell her that.

“Thanks. You were too. I can’t believe you learned that song. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was going to have the guts to say what I did tonight, but then you played that song and—”

“I’m leaving.”

I clench my hands into fists as the words leave my mouth, my jaw locked so tight I almost can’t force them out.

She goes silent, her body tensing up beside me.

“My mom, she…she said I can’t wait any longer if I want the internship, so she’s flying me home next week.”

“Oh.”

Her answer is so flat I have no idea what she’s feeling, and I know if I look at her face to check, I’m going to lose it, so I keep staring across the dark parking lot.

“And you…you do want the internship?” she murmurs.

“I…”

I don’t know what I want.

That’s the only answer I have, and she deserves so much more.

“I thought maybe there was something else out there for me,” I say instead, “something I could be good at, something that would light me up instead of just being a dumb way to pass the time, but…I don’t have that ambition or passion or whatever it is everyone else seems to have found. If I had that, maybe…maybe it’d be worth telling my mom I’m not sure I want this internship anymore, but this might be my very last chance to not disappoint her, and I can’t throw that away for doing nothing here just like I did a whole year of nothing in Montreal.”

“Nothing?” she repeats, with a chill in her voice that raises goose bumps on my arms. She pushes off the wall and squares off in front of me. “You really think you’ve found nothing here? That this whole summer was about a dumb way to pass the time?”

I shake my head fast enough to give me whiplash.

“No, Naomi, that’s not what I meant. It’s not about you. You’re…you’re the farthest thing from nothing.”

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