Page 107 of Strike Zone

“Feel better?” Charlie asks when I enter the living room.

“Not really but I have to be,” I say, bringing her an empty box. “I'm going to miss you too.”

She wraps her arms around me. “I know, but those tears aren’t for me. We already cried and laughed those out.” Any free night we had, Charlie and I have spent together watching movies, drinking wine, laughing about all of her bad dates over the years.

Charlie is more than a friend. She's family. She is someone that I will never forget. I will miss her fearlessness. She isn’t afraid to try new things. If it doesn’t work out, she dusts herself off and tries something else. Her resiliency is inspiring.

“I’m still sad we won’t be roommates anymore.”

“I’m going to miss you keeping my life together. I might end up joining the circus without you keeping me in line,” she jokes.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do when you get home?”

“Okay, don’t laugh at me.” She wraps a bowl in newspaper and places it in the box. “I think I’m going to get a job on a yacht. I saw an advertisement for a company hiring stewardesses for the summer. They’ll be sailing through the Mediterranean.”

“There will be a lot of potential husbands in the Mediterranean.”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I was joking, Charlie.”

“I’m not. That’s my goal this summer. Get engaged. Look at us. You’re looking to ditch a fiancé and I’m trying to lock one down,” she says, grinning. I can’t seem to muster up the same amount of amusement.

Not with my whole situation being unpredictable. My feelings for Wyatt are the only thing that feels steady and true. Knowing he will be waiting for me when this is all over pushes me to keep fighting until the end.

“It will all work out, you know. If anyone can make a man regret crossing them, it’s you. You're smart and you were born with a sharp tongue. You know where to cut him to make it hurt the most.”

“I’m glad you are confident in me. I just want it to be over with,” I admit. Charlie passes me a box to tape. I secure it shut and walk the box over to her stack of growing cargo.

“I think I’m going to hire some guys from the hunky moving company to help me with all of that.” She nods toward her growing pile of things.

There’s a quiet knock on our door. “What would your Mediterranean fiancé think of you flirting with other men?” I joke, before opening the door.

“Hi,” I greet Wyatt who's currently holding a large moving box of his own. He looks devastatingly handsome in a backwards hat, jeans, and T-shirt.

“Hi.” He brushes his lips against mine for a quick kiss. “Hey, Charlie.”

“Hi, Wyatt. Good to see you. I’m going to check on Syd. See if she needs any help packing up all her books.” Charlie walks out of the room. Once the door closes, I direct my attention back to Wyatt.

“What’s in the box?”

He sighs. Then walks the box to my room. “Looks like you’re almost done packing,” he says, glancing around the room.

“What’s in the box, Wyatt?” I ask again, ignoring his stalling tactics.

“All your stuff I found while I was packing up my room. I thought you might need it in Georgia,” he says, void of any emotion.

I lift the lid and glance inside. It appears to be a bunch of random pieces of clothes, underwear, a hairbrush, a few books. Nothing I can’t live without.

“You could take it with you and keep it for me.”

“How long is that going to be? Weeks? Months? I don’t know if I can stare at a box of your stuff for that long.” His face hardens except for the slight feathering of the muscle in his jaw.

“I don’t know. Let’s say it will be months. I think I’ll manage living without old notebooks and highlighters.” I push the box out of the way.

"There's more than that in there. Your stuff was everywhere cluttering my room."

I almost laugh at that. "If you think you are getting anything back from me, you're shit out of luck.”

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