The summer we turned thirteen (Published)

Chapter fifty-nine: No going back

Harlee

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Summer had reached its end.

Just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Isn't it funny how when you're in a moment time seems to pass so slowly, but once it's over, it seems to have gone by in a flash?

That was the way summer vacation ending felt for me.

The final few days before school began were hectic for me. I was so busy preparing for the start of school that I hardly had a minute to myself, much less time for friends.

So much for telling James before school started, I thought to myself sadly as Mom pulled the car into the driveway.

We'd just gotten back from last-minute school shopping that had taken nearly all my day from me. It was the final day of break, and I'd arrived home just as the sun was starting to set. I knew James was probably not home or getting ready for school tomorrow, so I figured I shouldn't bother him. Mom unlocked the car, and I climbed out. She gave me a sympathetic pat on the back. I could tell she felt bad we'd been so busy on the last day of break. I gave her a weak smile. Then I sulked up to my room tiredly and flopped onto my bed.

"What a summer," I sighed into my sheets.

I lifted my head just to check and see if James' blinds were open.

They were, and he was actually in his room.

He was sitting on his computer on his bed.

Meaning, he had some free time, so we could talk!

I sprang from my bed, hurriedly.

If only for a few minutes, I was going to talk to him.

My eyes glanced over at our photo album sitting on my nightstand.

I picked it up and hugged it to my chest.

It was time to get my best friend back.

For good this time.

Album in hand, I dashed up the Whitmire's porch steps and pressed my finger against the doorbell.

My heart was racing, but not because I'd been running so quickly.

It was because it was just dawning on me what I was about to confess.

And I hadn't even thought about how I was going to say it yet.

How exactly was I going to tell him?

The front door opened, and I felt relieved to see Mrs. Whitmire had answered it.

"Hello, Harlee; I haven't seen you over here in a minute," she said, welcoming me in.

"Yeah," I said, still feeling anxious. "It's been a crazy summer."

She smiled at me then made small talk asking me how I was and if I was excited to start eighth grade. I was polite with my responses, but my mind was a whirlwind of worries as I spoke.

What if he doesn't like me as much after how I talked to him?

What if he decided he actually likes Hyland?

Why can't I stop feeling like my heart is going to burst?

A few minutes later, Mrs. Whitmire told me James was in his room and that I could go talk to him. As she went into the kitchen, I wondered if I should just run out of the house while I still had the chance.