Page 84 of Five Summers

“Why don't you cut the crap and just tell me the fucking truth already?” He steps on the gas, speeding down the street.

“There’s nothing to tell, that’s why.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don’t bother to check it because I already know who it’s from.

In silence, we sit in the car, Ace is clearly pissed at me for lying. I have no intention to tell him any of it.

At last, we reach Ace’s garage. He parks the car and then gets out. I pause for a moment, watching him through the windshield as he strides forward and disappears into the garage. I take a deep breath, open the car door, and casually throw my bag in the back seat.

As I enter the garage, I immediately spot Ace packing up his keyboard. Though he briefly glances up, I find it hard to meet his gaze. The last thing I want is to tell him what's happened, fearing that I’ll completely fall apart in front of him. All I can think about is getting away from this place, no matter what it takes. Moving towards the area where I keep Poppy’s father’s guitar, I pause for a moment, overwhelmed by guilt for what I’m about to put her through. I can feel Ace’s eyes still fixed on me as I move forward.

My phone pings again, reminding me of the unread message.

“You gonna get that or keep dodging it like this fucking conversation?” Ace remarks, neatly rolling up the keyboard cord.

Slipping my hand into my pocket, I glance at my phone, feeling Ace’s unwavering stare. Even though I haven’t mentioned anything about Poppy to him, I’m certain he knows the message is from her, because of my resistance to check it earlier. But I won't let him see the extent of my heartbreak over this girl, as he would never truly understand what we had. Poppy’s message crashes over me like a tidal wave of anguish, causing my knees to nearly buckle.

Princess: Hey. I’m still alive and kicking. See you at school.

I slide my phone into my pocket. “You ready?” I ask, grabbing my guitar.

“Do I look fucking ready?” he snaps. “I still gotta pack clothes, sort out the mic, and get some other shit together.”

I put my guitar on the worn-out couch and walk over to the mic. As I pack it up, I feel Ace’s intense gaze. “Can you stop fucking staring at me?”

“Not until you tell me what went down.”

“Nothing happened. I just want out of this bullshit town. That’s all.”

“That's a load of crap. I know you, Xander. I can tell when something’s off. Now, give it to me straight.”

“I'll meet you in the car,” I say, grabbing the mic and my guitar, and swiftly making my way out the door.

As I wait for Ace, I grab my phone and open the message from Poppy. My fingers effortlessly glide over the keys as I start typing a reply.

Xander: Sorry, but I have to go. Ace and I are hitting the road. Catch you later.

But my fingers freeze up and I hit the back button, deleting all my words. I stop for a second, my head all jumbled up with different thoughts. Should I even send a message? I can't send that to her like she's just some random chick. But then again, I’m leaving without even saying anything to her. That's a total dog move on my part.

Taking a deep breath, I try once again, my fingers moving slowly this time.

Xander: Hey Poppy, Ace and I are leaving town today. Bye.

As I reach the end of my message, a wave of hesitation washes over me. My finger hovers with uncertainty above the send button, unsure of what to do. Doubt begins to creep in once again, making me question whether I should send this to her. How the fuck can I do it? Sending this message will undoubtedly cause her pain, but leaving without telling her would also inflict a different kind of hurt.

Taking a deep breath, I’m unsure of what to do. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about causing someone harm, but with her, it just doesn’t sit well. I pause, my finger hovering over the back button, contemplating whether or not to send the message. I decide against it and delete it, tucking my phone back into my pocket. Now all I can do is hope that Poppy will eventually be okay with me leaving. If we ever cross paths again, I’ll have the opportunity to explain everything to her then.

Ace appears, a large bag hanging from his shoulder and his reliable keyboard grasped in his hands. He heads towards the back of the car, cautiously placing everything into the trunk. After a short pause, he goes back inside the building, only to emerge again carrying his electric guitar and another armful of possessions. Eventually, he shuts the trunk and settles himself in the driver’s seat, plopping down with a sigh.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I reply.

Despite the overwhelming heartbreak, I find solace in the fact that this tough decision will allow Poppy to chase her own happiness, proving her mother wrong. I will always hold her dear to my heart, and I am determined to enrich her life. If that means I have to step away, then I will do so selflessly.

Chapter twenty-nine

Poppy

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