Page 17 of One Day

“I thought you were going to tell her about looking for internships here when you were home for winter break?” she asks, hazel eyes storming with concern.

“I meant to,” I say, curling my fingers around the back of my neck and squeezing the tension forming. My eyes dart to the empty popcorn bowl sitting on the couch cushions between us to avoid the wide-eyed look on Flynn’s face. “You didn’t see her face, Flynn,” I say with a sigh, running my thumb over the rim of the bowl. “She was so excited.”

It’s not that I meant not to tell her. I had every intention of telling her, but since moving to Millboro, I’ve had so little time with her that I wasn't focusing on the miles between us. I knew it killed her when I picked a school out of state, but she kept it to herself. She has supported me in everything I’ve ever wanted to do, and this wouldn’t be any different.

Even if it meant being in different states, separated for most of the year. It was an inevitable development, but it wasn’t one either of us were prepared for. I struggled the first year away from her. Until I meant Flynn and Sonya, she was my best friend. We were tied together at the hip, and maybe it comes with the territory when you’re raised by a single mom, but I wouldn’t have changed any of it. My mom is the strongest person I know, and while things have been difficult, finding my home away from home here has eased the burden.

The loneliness became bearable in my second year, and it all but vanished this year. I like the community I’ve surrounded myself with and who I’ve become since leaving home. As much as I love Ashmore and my mom, it’s not where I belong. It’s too small of a town for me to make a meaningful impact, which is exactly what my new advisor said when we sat down at the start of the year and started working out a plan for summer internships.

“Walker!” Flynn grabs my arm, forcing my eyes up. “You need to tell her. The longer you let it sit on this, the worse it’ll be.”

Dread fills my stomach, my grip tightening on my neck. “She’s going to be upset.”

“She will understand,” she says, squeezing my forearm. “You can’t just avoid it and hope the problem goes away. That’s not how it works, and I think you know that.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I meet her eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Except it is. She’s your mom, Walk. She wants what’s best for you, even if that’s not Ashmore anymore, but dragging it out will hurt her more.”

She’s right, and I know she’s right. I was circling the conversation anytime it came up before, and it’s why I promised Flynn I’d tell her when I saw her in person.

That was the plan.

It was the plan she deserved because now I’ve done the worst possible thing and agreed to come home without meaning to. I would have been listening if I hadn’t been so spaced out on Sonya.

I should have been listening because now I have to rip the rug of excitement out from under her and tell her the truth. It’s going to hurt her. I know it will, and that is the last thing I wanted. As much as I am my own person, an adult allowed to make my own decisions, I never wanted it to come at the expense of upsetting her, and I have no one to blame for that but myself.

I made the bad decisions that landed me here, and I fear I’m only going to add to them.

Sliding forward on the couch, I lean forward and press my elbows into my knees. “Maybe I should wait until I actually have an internship to bring it up.”

“Walker.”

“It’ll be easier to swallow if I have something concrete here,” I argue, telling myself that because it buys me a little more time to put it off.

She narrows her eyes, a glaring look crossing her face. “Cool, so we’re just going to be in denial about everything now, are we?”

“I’m not in denial.”

She holds her fist up, lifting her index finger. “You have a perfectly good reason for not going home already, one your mom will understand, and you still won’t tell her,” she says before lifting a second finger. “You’re very attractive, very sweet best friend—”

“You’re my best friend,” I cut her off, already knowing where this is going.

“Shut up,” she says, waving me off with her free hand. “You’re very attractive, very sweet, very single best friend delivers herself to you on a silver platter and despite you wanting her, because Walker, our walls are so thin…you won’t let yourself say yes because you’re in denial about actually letting yourself want something.”

“I’m not in denial,” I repeat myself.

“If that’s what you need to keep telling yourself, fine, but if you’re just going to sit and let this fester until it inevitably blows up in your face, can you please go do it somewhere else? I love you, but you don’t listen to me, and you won’t listen to yourself. You are choosing to be stubborn about this.”

I bite my tongue to keep from arguing because it will only make it worse. Flynn is right, as usual. I am stubborn, and while it’s a trait that will probably pay off as a lawyer, it’s not great in my everyday life. I will grind my foot in until I have no choice but to pull my head out of my ass and do the thing I should have done from the beginning. It’s a vicious cycle and not one I know how to get myself out of.

Grinding my teeth together, I roll my shoulders back. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it,” Flynn mocks. “Fine, if you don’t want to confront the mom thing. Then let’s discuss Sonya, shall we?”

“We’re not going over this again.”

“It’s one or the other, Walk. You’re going to spiral.”

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