Page 6 of Dear Rosie

He turns. And walks away.

And I stand there. Watching him leave me.

He looks back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine one last time, then he disappears into the trees.

When he’s out of sight, I lean against the log and lower myself until my butt hits the ground.

The damp earth soaks into my jeans. But I don’t care. Because my favorite person in the whole world is moving. And I know what that means.

I’ll never see Nathan Waller again.

NATHAN

(AGE 12)

Not like that.

What did she mean?

How could she say that so… normal? Like hurting her in any sort of way was okay.

The pizza I forced myself to eat for dinner churns in my stomach.

Mom knows I like to play in the woods, but she doesn’t know I’ve been spending all my time with a girl. I don’t know if she’d freak out, but there’s no point in telling her now.

She was mad that I took so long to come back to eat, but then she just gave me a hug. I guess she could tell I was sad about moving.

I look out my bedroom window to the woods behind my house.

It was almost two years ago that I stumbled across Rosie in that forest.

I was just walking around, bored, and she was sitting on the ground, building a little house out of broken sticks. I was impressed and wanted to try building one myself, so I asked if I could sit down with her, and that was that. Almost every day since, even in the winter, we’d meet in the woods.

None of my friends at school know about her. She’s younger, so they wouldn’t know her.

I frown at the woods.

It’s likeno oneknows about Rosie. I never hear anyone say her name. And she never talks about anyone else. And that makes my stupid heart ache.

Because Rosie is amazing. She’s funny and smart and easy to talk to.

She’s my best friend.

And I’m never going to see her again.

I stand.

No.

I can’t just give in like that.

I can’t never see Rosie again.

I need to at least say goodbye.

I never said goodbye.

Moving around the boxes piled in my room, I rush out into the hall.

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