Page 4 of My Best Years

We sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping coffee and watching the sun peak over the palm trees lining the road.

Finally, my dad speaks.

“You know what I was thinking about the other day?”

“What?” I reply.

“Whatever happened to that Pierce boy you used to run around with? You two were basically connected at the hip.”

Callum Pierce.

My throat feels like it might close up as my heart drums against my chest. Warm coffee swirls in my empty gut, threatening to make its way up my esophagus.

“Why do you always have to bring this up?” I ask in annoyance. “We’ve had this conversation multiple times.”

I wish my dad would just let this go.

“Because you never answer me.”

Anger burns my cheeks.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Dad,” I raise my voice. “I know just as much as you. He just…disappeared one day. He left and never said goodbye. So please, stop asking me about Callum. My answer is going to be the same every time. I have no idea why he left or where he went.”

A heavy silence fills the space between us.

“I’m sorry, Birdie,” Dad sighs. “I just don’t understand. You kids were like two peas in a pod. I never saw him without you, and I never saw you without him. And then, one day, he was just gone.”

Every time my family brings up Callum, it’s like picking at the scar of an old wound. It takes longer to heal each time it’s been opened.

“Can you please just drop it?” I ask through clenched teeth.

His face falls.

I feel like shit because Ineverraise my voice at my dad. I know his intentions are pure, but I’m sick of people thinking I’m hiding something about Callum.

I would give anything to know why he left. I’ve only ever wanted to know that he’s okay. I’ve searched his name on social media and Googled him at least a thousand times. And each time, I find nothing.

It’s as if he never existed. Like I made him up in my imagination.

After all this time, I might believe he was a ghost if it weren’t for days like today. Days when people ask me questions about Callum or when I find old photographs of us as kids.

He waseverythingto me.

My best friend. My comfort. My sun, moon, and stars.

And now, he’s sadness, heartbreak, and the worst betrayal of my life.

Callum Pierce represents the most beautiful days of my life, as well as the most dreadful.Heis every high and every low.

He is my greatest mystery and my first love—the boy on the bus with messy hair and eyes like the cerulean sea.

Dad clears his throat, pulling me from my trance.

“Want to go inside and make some breakfast?” he asks. “I’ll get the batter ready.”

Ever since I was a little girl, Dad would make pancakes with me and Winnie when he wasn’t at the coffee shop. It’s always been our thing.

“Sure, Dad,” I smile softly.

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