by Ella Fields
Sitting down, I watched as Quinn struggled to dig, then decided to help him.
I got on my hands and knees, digging at the dirt with my hands until we had a shallow hole that just might be big enough for the poor rooster.
Sitting on the tire swing, I watched as he raced back to the barn, listening to the sound of the crickets chirping while the cool air washed over my flushed cheeks.
He returned five minutes later, telling me to close my eyes. I did, knowing what he was about to pull from the sack in his hands. I heard the dead rooster tumble to the dirt with a thud.
“Okay, want me to cover him up?”
Nodding, I opened my eyes but kept them averted while he shoveled the dirt into the hole we’d dug. When he’d finished, I quickly collected some rocks from the nearby creek and placed them in the shape of a star on top of the dirt mound.
“Why a star?” Quinn asked.
“So he’s not alone. He can play with the other roosters and chickens in the sky in his dreams.”
Quinn was looking at me funny when I stood, brushing the dirt from my hands onto my pants.
“What?” I asked absently and started walking back to his house.
“I’m gonna marry you someday, Daisy June.”
My breathing stopped at the same time my feet did.
Spinning around, I stuck my hands on my hips and planted a smirk on my face, hoping it hid the weird feeling bubbling in my tummy. “Really?”
He nodded, grinning like he did when he acted like he knew everything. “Yep. One day, after we get done with college and I take over this farm, you’ll be my wife.” He stepped closer, and my heart started beating scary fast. “And I’ll make sure you never have to see another rooster get its head chopped off again.”
Grabbing my hand, he leaned down, and I felt the warm brush of his lips on my sticky cheek.
He didn’t say anything else, and neither did I. We trudged back through the weeds with grins on our faces and the stars glowing behind us like a smiling audience.
I didn’t realize what had happened at the time. Why I felt like I could hear my heart echoing in my ears, or why I couldn’t stop smiling for days afterward.
Looking back, I realized that was the first time Quinn Burnell stole a huge chunk of my heart.
Present
Unpacking my comforter from one of the last boxes, I tried not to roll my eyes.
“Mom, you seriously left like an hour ago. I’m fine.”
She made a whining noise in my ear. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Sniffling, she murmured, “You’re just going to be so far away. I thought I could handle it … and, oh hell. Just let me wallow and worry for a little longer, okay? I need it.”
I wedged my phone between my ear and shoulder, tucking the last corner of the fitted sheet over the single mattress. “Okay,” I said, resigned. “I can allow it for another minute or two, I suppose.”
She sputtered out a laugh. “Don’t give me sass. Eighteen or not, I’ll make your daddy turn this car around, young lady.”
My dad said something to her in the background, and she sighed. “Okay, your dad says I’m being clingy, and that if I want you to still answer my calls, I need to ease up.”
I laughed then, grabbing my comforter and dragging it over the bed. “I love you, Mom, and if I miss your calls, I will call you back. Okay?”
She heaved out a loud, labored breath. “Okay.” She paused a second. “I love you, honey.”
“Behave!” my dad hollered. “Stay away from any alcohol you don’t pour yourself. Better yet, just stay in your dorm. If you party, you’ll fail. You don’t want to fail, do you?”
“Joseph,” Mom scolded. “Okay, we’re going. We love you!”
Smiling, I said, “Love you, too. I’ll call you soon.”
After hanging up and dumping my phone on the old beechwood nightstand, I grabbed my pillows and tossed them to the head of the bed before taking a step back to survey my new digs.
Not bad. Not great either, but I knew not to expect too much the minute I’d walked into the tall, brown brick building. I’d done my research online. No, more like obsessed. If I somehow managed to get lost after all the hours I spent squinting at maps, buildings, forums, and streets, then I figured I deserved it.
Gray Springs University. Finally.
Grinning, I glanced at the painted brick walls of the small room. They’d make it hard to hang much of anything on, let alone my art. But I’d sure try.
I’d just flattened the empty boxes and was putting them in the top of the wardrobe next to my old sketchpads and portfolios when the door opened.
“Mom, shit.” A girl with mousy brown hair stumbled in behind a small, robust woman. “You should’ve …” The girl glanced at me, wincing. “Knocked.”
“Hi,” I said, closing the doors to the wardrobe and tucking my hands in front of me. “You must be my roommate?”
“Pippa, the walls are bricks! How on earth will you stay warm in winter?” The woman clucked her tongue and glanced from the empty single bed to my freshly made one, realizing then they weren’t alone. “Oh,” she squeaked, her hand flying to her ample chest and a beautiful smile lighting up her softly lined face. “Sorry, I’m Terry, Pippa’s mom.”
She moved to shake my hand, and I slowly unfolded mine to let her.
The girl—Pippa, I was guessing—groaned. “I’m so sorry.”
I took my hand back, and Terry glanced at her daughter, her dark brows crinkling and her hands going to her hips. “Don’t be embarrassed, Pip. I’m just …” She stepped farther into the room, her nose scrunching as she ran a finger over the dust that lined the nightstand next to the other bed. “Worried.”
“Well,” Pippa said, “less worrying and more unloading, yeah?” She smiled at me. “What an introduction. What’s your name?”
“Daisy. I, uh, got here a few hours ago.”
She looked around. “Wow. You don’t waste any time.”
No, I thought to myself. I’d lost enough time. “Excited, I guess.” I swung my hands a little, then my eyes fell on the radiator. “There’s heating.” I pointed at it as Terry kept scanning the room and muttering under her breath. “My mom was worried, too.”
Terry stopped her fussing and glanced at the radiator. Walking over to check it, she smiled. “Good, good. Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Why don’t we all go grab coffee?”
I stood frozen, my eyes ping-ponging back and forth between Terry and Pippa.
“Mom, class starts in a few days. I need to get unpacked and organized.”
Terry’s lips twisted in thought, her eyes lighting up when they landed on me. “Daisy? We should get to know each other.”
“Mom!” Pippa practically growled, and I suddenly realized I had it pretty easy with my stage-three clinger of a mom. “Please. Let’s go grab my stuff.”
“Okay, okay.” She sighed.
“Can I give you a hand?” I asked, not wanting to stand around while they battled the three flights of stairs.
They both sent me grateful looks, and we spent the next twenty minutes lugging three suitcases, ten boxes, and three backpacks from their small SUV to our dorm room upstairs.
“That desk clerk doesn’t appear to be very lively,” Terry murmured as we made the last trip past the front desk.
She didn’t. She had her chin on her hand and her eyes glued to a magazine, only moving to lick a finger and turn the page.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Pippa muttered breathlessly, dragging the last suitcase behind her.
I placed the box I was holding on the floor by her bed and dusted my hands off on my dress. I needed a shower and cringed, remembering I had to now share a bathroom with other girls.
That could be interesting.
Pippa’s mom got to work, unpacking sheets and making the bed, folding clothes and putting them in drawers, and hanging the rest in the wardrobe. I was getting tired just watching her fast, efficient movements. She made it look easy with a smile on he
r face and purpose filling her every step.
Turning to me, Pippa whispered, “Wanna get out of here?” I glanced at her mom from my perch on my bed, uncertain. “She won’t know, trust me. I’ve got at least thirty minutes until she’s done.”
Shrugging, I followed her out of our dorm room, grabbing my keys hanging from the door, just in case.
The early September sunshine was beautiful, and being this close to my hometown had me breathing in nostalgia and exhaling excitement.
“Where’re you from?” I asked as we skirted around a shirtless guy who was carrying a mattress on his head from a tall building a few doors down from ours. Pippa dragged her wide eyes from the guy’s bare chest and looked at me. “Willowmina.”
“Close by, then. What’s that? Around three hours north?”
She nodded and asked, “You?”
“Originally, Clarelle. Moved to Watson a few years ago.”
“You wanted to be closer to Clarelle?”
“Something like that.” I lifted a shoulder, my chest filling with bubbles of nerves and hope. Swallowing them down, I felt them curdle back to life in my stomach when we approached a group of guys on the sidewalk tossing a football back and forth. Talking, laughing.
My eyes widened, desperately seeking the one thing they’d been craving to gaze upon for two years. Realizing I’d been staring, I finally blinked as we passed them, whistles and catcalls following our slow gait.
Where are you?
“Must be one of the boys’ dorms,” Pippa surmised, glancing over her shoulder briefly. Pulling a tin of mints from her pocket, she popped the lid and held it out to me. “Breath mint?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
With a tilt of her shoulder, she chucked a couple in her mouth. “It’s a little weird, I know.” She tucked the tin away. “But I like to hold them under my tongue. I’m addicted to the burn.”
“So you like sour stuff?”
Her button nose wrinkled. “Blegh, no.”
“Oh, okay.”
We walked for another five minutes until we reached the outskirts of the university, crossing the street to find a string of shops. Despite not talking much and not really knowing Pippa, I felt comfortable.
I didn’t know what I expected to see days before classes started. Perhaps a frenzy of students everywhere. There were plenty of them, but Gray Springs was a relatively small university, compared to most, with a big focus on the football team, the Tomahawks. I assumed most people had arrived earlier than we did.
Pippa paused outside an ice-cream parlor that had a help wanted sign in the window. “Do you mind if I run in and grab an application?”
The wind knocked some hair free from my bun; tendrils tickled my lips and cheeks before I shoved them back. I gazed through the glass window. “Not at all. I’ll wait over here.”
Sitting down on a block of sandstone surrounding a garden bed, I watched Pippa through the windows as she walked to the bright bubblegum pink counter and spoke to a man who was wearing a cute old-school hat.
The sun was changing color as afternoon dawdled toward early evening. My hands clenched at the skirt of my dress, itching to recreate the color of the golden orange light dancing over the large brick buildings. Flowers littered the stunning greenery of the gardens in almost every color. I made a mental note to do that before classes started and fall slowly leeched the campus of its vibrancy as winter approached.
A giggling girl walked by, dragging her boyfriend behind her. With my chest twinging, I drew in a long breath and slowly let it out.
What if, after all this time, he’d decided not to come here?
It felt so serendipitous to simply show up. As if it was where we were always meant to reconnect and continue our path into the future. Together.
I was a little naïve—always had been—and full of ridiculous notions and far too much trust.
But it was Quinn. If there was anyone I could put my faith into, could leave my heart with for so long, it was him.
Always him.
“Sorry,” Pippa said, stepping outside. “But he said he could probably give me some part-time hours. I just need to recheck my class schedule.”
I stood, smiling at this girl who wasn’t a friend yet but not entirely a stranger either. “Well, that worked out well. Who doesn’t like ice cream?”
“Right?” She clapped her hands, almost ripping her application. “Shit, whoops.”
Laughing, I turned back toward campus. “Your thirty minutes are probably almost up.”
“Oh, yeah.”
We returned to the dorm, where Pippa shared the news of the ice-cream parlor job with her mom, who then insisted on taking us out to dinner before she left.
“I’m good, but thank you,” I said. “I had a big lunch.” It was true, and I didn’t want to intrude on the little time Pippa had left to spend with her mom for what could be months. Plus, I knew I’d feel awkward, not knowing them very well and all. I also needed time to let it settle in. This new place, my feelings, and the racing of my heart whenever I thought too far ahead.
There was nothing I could do. Short of stalking him down at the registrar’s office, if I was even allowed to do that, I’d just have to wait. Besides, my sappy heart had me thinking it would be more romantic to see each other again by chance encounter.
If attending the same college we’d always planned to could even be considered something as simple as chance.
Grabbing my sketchpad, I opened the sheer white threadbare curtain over the window next to my bed. Gazing outside, I drew as the light from the sky drained and the streetlamps lit the sidewalk in puddles of yellow.
After braving the showers and feeling relief at the ample amount of privacy, even if it was still kind of weird, I’d returned to my bed by the time Pippa walked in.
“Oh, Jesus. I thought she’d never leave.” She toed off her ballet flats and locked the door behind her.
I sat up, closing my sketchpad and turning off the music on my phone. “Did she try to take you with her?”
She laughed, plonking face down onto her freshly made bed and propping herself up on an elbow to look at me. “Almost.” Her smile turned sad after a few seconds. “Does it make me a wimp? If I already …”
“Miss her?” I shook my head. “No, it makes you a daughter who loves her mom.”
She stared at me for a moment. “You and me, we’re going to be friends.”
“Yeah?” I tucked my legs underneath me.
“Yep,” she said, popping the p. “I thought I’d get stuck with some horrible roommate, you know, like you hear about and see in the movies.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“There’s still time.” She raised a sleek brown brow.
Laughing, I nodded. “I‘m not a neat freak. I’m clean, but I like a little clutter.”
Pippa scrunched her nose. “Ugh, no.”
“I’ve also been told I snore if I didn’t get enough sleep the night before.”
She grinned. “I’ll smother you with a pillow.”
“You might kill me.”
She flopped onto her back. “I’ll do it just right.”
We both laughed, and I laid back down, staring at the popcorn ceiling.
“I sometimes talk in my sleep,” Pippa said a minute later.
“I’m a deep sleeper.”
“I’m a neat freak. I’ll probably clean up your stuff, and you’ll wonder where it is.”
“That could be problematic, depending on what it is.”
She hummed. “I also like to do crosswords and word searches in pencil. I’ll steal any pencil I see lying around.”
That made me gasp. “Oh, nuh-uh.” I opened my nightstand drawer, pencils and brushes rolling around inside it. “These cost a fortune. Paws off, lady.”
Giggling, she asked, “Art major?”
“How’d you guess?” I asked dryly, closing the drawer and lying down again.
“Besides the pencils and the sketchpad,
you’ve just got a vibe.”
Vibe? “Can you read people or something?”
“My grandmother liked to dabble in fortune-telling and whatnot. She was a weird lady.” She picked at her cuticles. “Said you could tell a lot about a person by watching their mannerisms. The way they hold themselves. Fidgeting, posture, stuff like that.”
“Interesting.”
“Favorite movie?” she asked.
“The Lion King. You?”
“Oh, Simba is badass. Umm, Anchorman.”
“Good choice. So, what made you choose Gray Springs?”
“Besides the partial scholarship?” She paused. “Would you believe me if I said it felt right? Looking at the pamphlets, the pictures, I just felt it. Right there is where I need to go.”
“I believe you.”
Quiet filled the small room for a minute. “No friends, new people. It seems crazy.”
“Totally crazy,” I agreed, my pulse kicking.
“You don’t know anyone either?”
I rolled over onto my side, mulling over how much I could tell this new friend of mine. I decided to let the truth fall off my tongue to see how it tasted and sounded. I wondered if it’d sound crazy to someone else. “Maybe, I know someone. A guy.”
She rolled over to face me then; her green eyes alight with interest. “Go on …”
“He, well, he’s my best friend. Was, is, I don’t know. We grew up together; it’s the classic tale of childhood friends evolving into first love. We’d planned to come here together after high school.”
“Then you moved away?”
“Then I moved away.” I let the sinking pit in my gut tremble for a moment, then puffed out a sigh. “I haven’t seen him since. It was left so unfinished, but I just couldn’t do it.”
Pippa adjusted her blue pillow under her cheek. “Do what?”
“The long-distance thing. It was killing me. It felt like …” She waited while I tried to find words adequate enough to describe it. “Like every time we spoke, the distance between us could be felt, and we were slipping even further away from each other. Eventually, my parents took my phone from me, and when I got it back and switched it on, I discovered he’d hardly tried to contact me at all.”
