Page 39 of Solitude

“You don’t think your future should be up to you?” He asks, eyes pleading with mine. “You don’t think that you should be in charge of the way your life plays out?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I feel quick to justify the way I’ve blindly done whatever my parents asked, but I can’t find the right words. Lamely, I reply, “Of course, I do.”

“Do you?” Beck asks again, like he doesn’t believe me.

“I…” Tears gather in the corners of my eyes, stinging as I try to force them back, but it’s useless. “This is what I mean, Beck. You have it figured out. You know what you want, and I?—”

“Winnie,” he cuts me off, grabbing my shoulders gently as my words get choppier and tears flow freely down my cheeks. “Shhh. Just breathe, baby.”

He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me, holding me close, and I’m too caught up in wallowingand self-pity to stop myself from burying my face in his shoulder as I cry. He rubs a hand up and down my back, his arms tight and cocooning as he gives me a safe space to let all of this emotion out.

He doesn’t talk to me.

He doesn’t offer advice.

He just tells me it’s all going to be okay, and I think that’s all I needed to hear. I just need the reassurance that everything is going to be okay. It will be okay if I don’t go to college. It will be okay if I stay in Magnolia Hollow. It will be okay if I don’t have it all figured out right now.

It will be okay.

Eventually, I stop crying and apologize for leaving a huge wet spot on Beck’s t-shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind and steers me down the street with an arm around my shoulders and to my front door.

Opening the door, I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling bashful all of a sudden. “Thank you for…that.”

“You don’t have to thank me. This is friendship, Winnie,” he tells me. It simultaneously feels like the best and worst thing he could’ve said.

“Right.”

Beck tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looks toward his house. The porch light is on, but the rest of the house is dark and quiet.

He clears his throat, eyes softening on me. “Meet me at the swings tomorrow night?”

I don’t think twice before I nod.

The lines have blurred between us.

Or at least they have on my end.

I spend the rest of the summer working at Sugar and avoiding the rejection letters burning a hole through my desk drawer. I know I’ll need to deal with them soon, but for now, I want to live in blissful ignorance.

I ignore my parents’ inquiries about my move-in dates, which is pretty easy when they’re hardly ever around. I ignore Sienna’s texts about dorm decor and college prep. I ignore Mrs. Betty and Tootsie’s nosy questions about my new friendship with Beck and my future as I pass by their bench on the square. I ignore Gwen’s curious looks every time I change the subject away from myexcitementfor the end of summer.

I should be excited. Instead, I’m terrified.

Avoidance has become my default in the meantime.

Sugar is awesome though, aside from Gwen’s occasional despairing about my impending departure that she doesn’t realize isn’t actually happening yet. I love working with her. I’m happiest when I’m helping her in the kitchen, and she tells me often just how much my baking skills are improving.

A sense of pride always fills me with her praise.

It feels even better when I tell Beck, and he hugs me tightly, beams at me, tells me how great it is that I’ve found something that brings me true joy.

I’ve realized how important that is to him. My happiness. I’m trying not to read into that.

I finally saved Beck’s number in my phone. He frowned adorably when he realized I didn’t text or call him because I deleted his number.

That day feels like a lifetime ago. Not the beginning of summer.

We’ve spent almost every night at the park. Swinging, basking in the damp breeze, and learning everything there is to know about each other.

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