Leaving Home

He drove up to the house in the late afternoon, when it was the hottest time of day, and the a/c and every fan was on high. I heard his car rumble up the driveway, but didn’t move from my spot on the couch, not interested enough to even glance out the window.

I knew it was him when he rang the doorbell though. He always did, even though Mama had a policy of ‘c’mon in.’ I still didn’t move though, too busy looking through the window to make sure it really was him. Mama rolled her eyes at me as she wiped her hands on her jeans and opened the door.

“It’s Giovanni, Maya.” She said softly.

I must have gotten up after then, but all I can remember is looking at his soft brown eyes as he spoke. I could hear what he was saying, but I couldn’t focus enough to understand what they meant. They weren’t good words though, and they were making me squeeze onto his hand harder and harder.

His top choice school. He’d been accepted. Ten hours away.

“Don’t,” I started to whisper. I wanted to tell him to stay here with me, but he’d spent months planning out the perfect program. I bit my bottom lip, struggling to find words. He must’ve seen it in my eyes, the way my face was slowly crumbling, that I couldn’t congratulate him.

“Baby,” he murmured, “it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I could barely nod.

“You know I don’t belong here.”

He didn’t. We both didn’t, and we’d also made months of plans of getting out of here together. Traveling Europe. Traveling the world. He’d take me to Berlin and Paris and Versailles and Barcelona. All I’d ever wanted was to run away to Vienna.

“I just-” I gulped. My mouth felt dry, and I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t tell him not to go. I couldn’t tell him to wait for me. “I thought-”

“Baby,” he whispered, taking my other hand too and squeezing it, “I wanted to take you with me, I really did. But I thought we both knew…”

That was never going to truly happen. I finished the rest of his sentence for him, lip trembling as I realized what he meant.

I searched his face for anything. But his lips were tight in a straight line, and his brown eyes seemed to be searching mine. The first tear slipped down my cheek as the news sunk further and further into my chest.

“Stop-” Now he was at a loss for words.

We both knew this day was coming. I finished his sentence again. One day he would leave and I would stay, and that would be our ending.

“Please don’t leave me,” I finally whispered, my words hoarse because I pushed them off my tongue before I started crying.

“I don’t want to,” He whispered back. “But I have to,”

We both know that. I finished it once more. I tried to nod. I did, I really did know that this day was coming. That he was going to go to college, and I was going to stay here, and our adventures would always stay here. He couldn’t take me with him. Not to Europe. Not around the world. And he couldn’t stay here.

“I wanted to talk about it with you,” he said, his voice soft, “but…” he struggled for words, and cleared his throat. Had I made him start to cry? He couldn’t cry too, he just couldn’t. “Maybe we can later.” He said softly.

I tried to nod again.

“I’ve gotta go then,” he said, voice still dangerously soft and low. He looked down at our hands, as I was still gripping onto him.

Please don’t leave me, I wanted to repeat. Somehow I pulled myself away from him. As the screen door slammed shut and he turned his back to go back to his car, I ran from the door, ignoring Mama’s calls, out to the backyard. I wanted to go as far as possible, just wanting to run out of breath.

I always hid out in the barn when I didn’t want to face the world. With silent tears streaming down my face, I pulled myself up the ladder, laying down on the faded old blanket I’d left one day in the loft. I pressed my face into the soft fabric, and hiccuped from crying so much.

The barn door swung open again, and I turned over to look down and see who it was. Lucas stumbled in, covered in a sheer layer of sweat that made his skin shimmer in the sunlight that filtered down through the holes of the roof. He was my daddy’s farm hand, and I could tell from the way hay was everywhere he’d been moving bales. He was breathing deeply, and leaned his leg up on the old tractor, clearly meaning to use me as a distraction from work.

“Go away,” I grumbled to Lucas, “I’m going to India.”

He glanced up at me and laughed,

“You’re not really gonna do that.” He scrunched up his nose then, like he was confused and so expected an explanation.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t really want to talk about it with him, I knew he wouldn’t understand.

“I will,” I barely whispered, looking away from him and back up at the holes in the roof to stop myself from crying.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, seeming annoyed that I wasn’t willing to talk.

“Nothing!” I shouted. He pulled his leg off the tractor, and stepped back, picking up a bale, not saying a word but giving me a look that said it all. I didn’t care what he thought. Yelling had felt better. I wasn’t sure how I felt anymore. I didn’t want Giovanni to leave me, but I felt mad that he would even dare to.

I stayed in the barn for the rest of the afternoon, breathing in the sweet smell of the blanket, it hadn’t trapped in the smells of hay but rather reminded me of the day Giovanni and I had climbed up into the loft and had held hands and he’d pointed out the way the sunlight filtered down. I’d told him he was so poetic. And it was one days we talked about where we would go, and how we’d never come back. I wondered if he’d come back now, after he left for college.

At dinner, I picked at my food. Daddy asked me what was wrong and Mama spoke quietly. I wondered how she knew that Giovanni was leaving. But I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to talk about any of it. They let me leave the table early and not even clear my plate. I told them I was going outside to get some fresh air, and they just nodded.

I sat down on the front step, extending my legs out. They’d always looked so pale to me in comparison to Giovanni’s dark tan. I thought about all of the times he’d driven his car up to the house, and spent the day with me. Even on the nights he’d stayed up late and told me he had a lot of work to finish, he always found some time. On the days he’d taken me out, or I’d spent the day at his house, it didn’t matter: every night when we had to part, he’d let me stand on the stair so I could kiss him more easily. It had never really crossed my mind that one night, that would be the last time we kissed and parted.

I stared out at the black inky expanse that had covered up everything from the daytime. I strained my eyes, wanting to see something else, but it was impossible. There weren’t any other porch lights or car headlights. It was Sunday night, and people usually went to bed earlier than usual. But Daddy had been working, so Mama made dinner late. I didn’t mind, I knew I’d be restless all night.

I didn’t know why I’d told Lucas I was going to go to India. The moment the words left my mouth and he started laughing, he took his shirt and wrapped it around his head like a turban. He’d made me want to puke. Lucas was an idiot, but he wasn’t alone. Giovanni needed to get out of here, but so did I.

My heart started to beat faster, and I felt dizzy and out of breath as I continued to think. Why did I need him to get out of here? What was stopping me from traveling the world alone? I’d wanted to visit Europe with a lover. Someone I could kiss in front of scenic vistas, and so I didn’t feel so lonely in the cheap, cold hostels I assumed we’d stay in. Someone who would hold my hand if I felt lost.

But it didn’t matter anymore, because I’d either spend the hot, lonely nights alone here, or I’d spend them anywhere else.

In a haze and realization of desperation to leave, I stood, saluted my house, and turned. I walked out into the inky blackness, walking further and further, the sound of my feet on the pavement as my only guide, ‘til I’d been totally absorbed by it too, and only then glanced back at my house.

I wondered if Giovanni would call me tonight. It didn’t matter, by then I’d be gone.