Washed Up

Impact Zone

Ross

Impact Zone. (noun). [im-pakt zone]. The location where the waves break.

"Ross, I have something to tell you."

My stomach rolls at the words, and I wonder if this it, if this is the end. Today has been too perfect, too good for a short summer to endure, and the tremor in Riley's voice is the harbinger of news that I'm afraid will break my heart.

Her green eyes are wider than ever, and I glance to her phone, dropped in the sand, and her trembling hands that hang loosely by her side. Even her lower lip shakes and her eyes are glassy with tears.

No. No, this can't be the end. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready.

"Is--is everything okay?" I ask, taking a tenuous step toward her.

Her gaze breaks from mine and she cross her thin arms over her chest. Her glassy eyes scream melancholy, and I want to pull her into my arms and tell her it will all be okay, but what if it won't? What if this is the end?

"No," she murmurs, her chin falling to her chest. "I'm leaving. Tonight--now. I have to go."

I move towards her and take her hands, untangling her arms from her chest, and holding them in mine. "What are you talking about? The summer's not even over yet--you don't have to go anywhere!"

Riley lifts her chin to look at me, her hands icy in mine. I can feel her starting to shake. "I have to go, Ross. It's Cornell. They're going to let me interview for readmittance. I could--I could study clinical psychology, maybe work at a school or...or something. My parents pulled strings and I have to go. I can't risk losing this."

And I know in that moment that I can't ask her to stay even though I want to beg her on my hands and knees to never leave my side. For all my empty talk of summer flings and temporary romance, the churning in my gut tells me that I'm not ready for goodbye. Not yet. Not now. Not ever.

But if Riley has a chance at pursuing her dreams, I can't stop her. I'm going to leave in just over a month anyways, and I know she would never ask me to give up the internship for her. I just--I thought we had time.

My hands drop hers and I pull away. "Now? Tonight?"

She nods, looking at the sand. She kneads her lower lip between her teeth, making it red and swollen and I wish a kiss would make everything go away, but it won't. I've known since the moment we met that this was only for the summer, but...

"Are you coming back?" I ask her, and I let the hope blossom inside of me. I need a chance. I need time to prepare for the inevitable separation.

"I...I don't know," she says, again crossing her arms and turning away from me so she doesn't have to look at me, so I don't have to look at her.

Not yes. Not no. I don't know. She could come back for a final goodbye, but then again, she might not. She might get in her car and drive away and never come back to Long Beach Island. I might never see her again.

"Ry..." I try to finish the sentence, but I can't seem to sort out the words jumbled around in my mind. I like you, love you, want you. Stay. Go. Never leave.

"I don't want to go," she murmurs, and I see the tears rise into her eyes and start to overflow, one dripping down her freckled cheek.

I can't handle the space between us and I reach for her, pulling her into the spot carved into my body just for her. She leans her cheek against my collarbone, her head fitted perfectly beneath my chin, and wraps her arms around my middle.