Page 20 of Keeper
I knock firmly on the door. My mood brightens when Poppy is the one to answer. “Hiya, Poppy, how’s it going?” I ask, feeling odd and a bit more formal than usual.
“I’m okay, Booker. How are you?” She looks away, tugging a long strand of hair. Her face isn’t the normal bright and cheery it usually is.
“I’m all right. I erm…miss you.” I reach out and touch her shoulder playfully, trying to seem light-hearted but feeling anything but. “We haven’t talked in a while, so I thought maybe we can go do something. I was getting ready to go for a run, but I thought I’d see if you want to go for a walk instead.”
Her brows knit together. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“Doing what?” I ask with a laugh. She doesn’t look busy, and I can’t recall many times when Poppy has blown me off.
Her lips form a thin line. “I’m…packing.”
“Oh?” I ask, wondering if she’s talking about packing for Uni in London. “I thought you were planning to live at home for the first couple of years.”
“Yeah…I erm…was going to tell you.” Her eyes flash downward. “I’m going to Goethe University in Frankfurt.”
My heart stops.Wait, she’s what?“Like…in Germany?” I ask stupidly, but the concept of her leaving seems unbelievable to me.
She exhales and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yes, Booker. In Germany. You know how much I’ve always wanted to live there. And they have a great program for teaching German as a second language, which is what I want to do, so it’s pretty perfect for me.”
I grip the back of my neck and squeeze, completely stunned by this new information that she’s spouting out like the daily bloody news. “You’re moving there permanently?”
She shrugs. “Probably not permanently. I don’t know. I haven’t decided. They have a Master’s program there, too.”
“When do you leave?” I snap. Poppy has always been a bit nutty for Germany ever since she got hooked on the Brothers Grimm, but moving there is coming out of fucking nowhere. This is the kind of decision we usually discuss.
She swallows slowly. “One week.”
I huff out a laugh, heat pulsing through my veins. “One week! When were you planning on telling me, Poppy?”
“I was going to tell you,” she stammers and looks away from me.
“From where? The plane?” I exclaim, feeling my heart sink over the finality of all of this. Poppy is leaving and she’s acting like I’m a fucking afterthought. Like when Gareth buggered off to Manchester without a look back. Like how Dad barely cares what I have to say if I’m not talking about football. Like how Camden and Tanner only care about themselves. Like I’m nothing.
Unable to look at her any longer, I turn away and jam my hands through my hair, trying to dampen the rage billowing up inside of me. I don’t know what the fuck is going on. Last I knew, Poppy was going to Uni in London. She was going to live at home. I was going to live at home. Things were going to stay the same. London is where she belongs. Now she’sleaving?
I swerve my accusing eyes at her. “I thought I was supposed to be your best friend, and moving to another country seems like the kind of thing you tell a friend.” My tone is acerbic. I’m fucking furious.
Her eyes narrow on me as she steps out onto the front porch and backs me up a foot. She stabs her pointer finger into my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t get around to telling you, but we haven’t really been hanging out much lately.”
“So what? That doesn’t mean we’re not still mates!” I exclaim.
“Actually, that’s precisely what it means. Friends tell each other things. Friends talk. Friends don’t betray one another.”
Betray one another? Her anger gives way to hurt as her raspy voice cracks on the last word. Her green eyes look sad and defeated. I want to reach out and hug her. Hold her until she tells me what’s going on in that wild, imaginative head of hers. But I feel like I’m looking at a stranger.
She’s fucking leaving.
My voice is soft as I look around at anything but her and ask, “What does that mean, Poppy? Are you saying I have betrayed you?”
I look up to find her staring at me so hard, I feel small. I shrink in my own shoes and search my brain for whatever she might be accusing me of. I’m the one who feels betrayed, though. She is the one who changed the plans. She’s the one moving away and treating me like our friendship has meant nothing to her.
Her face softens as she takes in my confused expression. “I’m sorry, all right. It all came up rather quickly, and an international pre-course for all the non-Germans starts earlier than I realised. And, you’ve been so busy with football, I didn’t want to distract you.”
That sounds like an excuse. A shitty lie. And it doesn’t sound anything like my best friend. This is why you keep your inner circle of people you truly care about small. This kind of pain. I’ve reached my limit.
I turn to walk away as her voice calls out, “Booker, where are you going?”
I stop and scuff my foot on the pavement. “Home.” I could laugh as everything I thought I knew about my friendship with Poppy vanishes completely. “I have a match tomorrow in Birmingham that I have to ride the bench for. If hell freezes over and they put me in, I’ll try to send you a postcard.”
