Page 32 of The Other Side of Apart
“With or without you?”
She looks at the ground and brings her tear-filled eyes to mine. “Without me,” she whispers. “It has to be this way.”
My heart pounds in my throat, ice water running through my veins, starting in my chest and flooding my limbs. “You’re gonnaleave? Like…you’re walking away? From us? And me?”
Tears spill over onto her cheeks. “If I go, he’ll follow me and leave you alone. If I don’t, we’ll both get hurt. Or worse. I love you way too much to let anything happen to you.”
She’s talking, but her words are droning through my head like a language I don’t understand, and I turn my attention to my only available possibilities:
Chance of losing Mei if I call the cops: 100%
Chance of losing Mei if I turn and run back to practice: 100%
I look down, expecting my body to be half-submerged in the thick darkness of the decision, the weight from the atmosphere pounding me into the ground.
Mei’s leaving.
Instead of figuring out a plan, she’s walking away.
Without me.
My head snaps up. “So let me get this straight. If I call the cops, I lose you. If I let you run that way, and I run that way”—I throw my thumb back at the field—“I lose you. Am I right? Is it safe to assume that my only option is losing you?”
“For the last two months, I actually thought…” She shakes her head, swiping tears from her cheeks. “The last two months have been a dream, Marcus, but Nick just woke me up.” Herwhole body shrinks—folds in on itself, leaving nothing but her eyes, which deliver the ultimatum:“I love you, but I have to go.”
My mind goes blank as I stare at her, my ears tuning in to the thud of someone’s cleat connecting with the ball, my teammates calling to each other, their voices riding the breeze toward me, tugging at me. A plane drones overhead, and I wish I was on it, completely oblivious to the wreckage below.
A car horn blares and jerks me back to the moment, the ground opening between us, the gap filled with intentions and emotions and terrible, last-minute plans.
But am I gonna jump across that gap to Mei’s side this time? The ground behind me is solid—turf and dreams and future. But on her side…
Uncertainty. Failure. Giving up. But also…Mei. I chose her once without Stanford, not knowing I’d ever get back in. Stanford didn’t matter then. Why does it matter so much now?
Because I wanted Stanford way before I met Mei. It used to be everything before she took that spot.
But she’s in that spot now, and Stanford could never fill the hole she’d leave. I gave up Stanford once. For Dad. Could I do it again for the one person I’ll love forever, here or anywhere else? The girl I promised I’d love forever, no matter what. Is this included in “no matter what”?
Dad asked me what I would do if Nick showed up, and I told him I’d run. I’d stay with Mei, choose her every time. Does that mean he knew Nick was out, and it was his way of telling me?
The whistle blows, and I know my time’s up. Now or never. Do or die.
Do.
I turn and haul myself back to the bench for my soccer bag, keeping my eyes on my feet. I count the steps to avoid the soccer field that will forever remain stuck between my cleats and in the past.
I throw the bag over my shoulder as Coach strides toward me, his mouth moving, but my roaring thoughts drown his words. “There’s an extra spot on your team,” I call and walk away.
Mei is already across the parking lot. I stop, watching her, second-guessing my decision and wondering if I can handle this being my last memory of her if I turn and run back to my team.
Them or her.
Me or her.
Us.
She stops at the curb, waiting for passing cars. If she crosses the road, there won’t be an us. That road will forever be our dividing line.
I take off running, my bag bouncing against my hip, and slide onto my motorcycle. I rev the engine and peel out of the parking stall. Pulling up to the curb beside Mei, I put one foot down. Her eyes roam my face, but she makes no move. “Get on,” I say, my voice squeezing through my tight throat.
