Goosebumps start to send chills all over your body but it isn’t the fact that you feel cold, rather you are nervous. Your body explicates it all: your jaws clenching, knuckles white and eyes roaming around the parking area. You couldn’t even look eye to eye to the girl a few feet beside you. The girl who has been your best friend all along and cliché as it may sound, you happen to like her more than as a friend.
Your right hand carries a dark green suitcase, just the right weight for your hands to not get numb, while the other one is free from anything. You hear the gentle rumbling of the suitcase wheels against the ground as the two of you begin to walk. And although you don’t want to admit it, you long for her warm hands that would make you feel comfortable and notice a spark as both of your hands intertwine.
But alas, you remember that those things are only meant for couples.
You suppose that being a coward guy is one of the reasons you can not place your arm around her petite shoulder or even run your fingertips through her silky brown hair. It might be because you don’t want your friendship to be over or you don’t want to get hurt.
Drops of cold sweat roll down under your shirt and it's getting uncomfortable. You want to say something but you might expect it much worse than before. Yes. Do you remember the time you tried to confess your feelings for her? But then both of you were outside her house and it rained suddenly?
What a total fail, you think to yourself. A chuckle escape from your lips as you reminisces those good times you were with her.
And how about today? Will your lips still turn into a smile after you go in the airport and see her wave goodbye?
Your eyes meet the ground, hopeless. You lift your wrist just enough for you to check the time in your silver watch. A watch as a gift given by the girl beside you.
Forty-five minutes more and your mind is in total confusion. Are you going to say it or just let it be like this? To act strong or to expect defeat?
A strong sense of courage awakes you from your brainstorming. And without thinking twice, the suitcase wheels decelerate and soon the girl becomes aware of it.
"I want to say something," you said in a low voice, that the girl has to come closer so she can hear you well.
She raises her eyebrows and squint both of her eyes. She wants to it hear again. So you take a deep breath and a swallow before you let go of your tenseness.
"I want to say something."
A curve appears across her face as she place few strands of her brown hair behind her ears. You know you like how she does that. And so, your blood rush up through your veins.
"What is it?"
Before saying the statement that you might regret or not, your forehead moist and so you wipe it off with your right sleeve. Your stomach is starting to lurch and your jaws tighten. This is now or never, boy.
"I--- I--I..." Your eyes start to roam all over the place, avoiding her eyes. With the people passing by, your attention sets to an old man seating at the waiting area. He is reading a newspaper without any presence of a single person or woman beside him. Your imagination takes over and leads you to be in his situation years from now, lonely and grey if you don't speak now.
"What is it?" Her anticipation wakes you up from your sudden illusion.
You heave out a small laugh and scratch your shaggy hair with red face. "I... y-you have something.... something on your face."
"Oh really?" At first the girl doubts it, folding her arms, but it takes her few seconds to dig her hand into her shoulder bag for a mirror. But in advance, your index finger swab off the make-believe dirt on her face so she won't find out about your pretty lie.
"There. It's gone." You try to fake smile at her when you notice her eyes in confusion.
"Thanks," says the girl, smiling back at you. And both of you start to pace again going towards the place you're going to hate.
You have lost your chance.
Not officially, not yet. You have to plan another strategy again and plus, it only takes about few seconds to say it, right?
Your eyes form slight wrinkles between your eyebrows because of contemplating, contemplating that today may possibly be the right time for your confession and even rejection. As you two are walking towards the entrance door, the silence fills the cold air. Her head seems to turn around the place and you can’t start a topic because you might stutter. This would be the only time to do it though, and you start to remind yourself that transferring to another country is an obligatory duty as the only son because no one else will take good care of your sick mom. Your mind seems to be in an argument of whether to confess or not. Then you don’t realize that you are already in front of an entrance glass door which reveals people mostly with coats or jackets against the cold weather. The door automatically slides open and the fresh morning air suddenly fades away, replaced by an artificial atmosphere.
Then you are welcomed by a cardboard woman receptionist which has the same height as the girl. You sneak a stare at her and good thing she doesn’t notice it. So you stare at her for few more seconds until she twitches her nose and looks back at you. You know that when she does that, it will give you a clue that she notices something suspicious. Oops, you wipe a drop of sweat from your head. The two of you are still walking and your hand still untouched. And few minutes later, the two of you stop when you reach the check-in area.
“So… this is a goodbye then?” She raises her eyebrow and you see her open arms.
“Yeah, it is.” You accept the hug and feel the warmth overcoming the coldness inside you. Her silky hair tickles your cheeks and you inhale her strawberry perfume as much as you can, as if it is going to be your last.
It is definitely your last.
The announcer reminds you that there is only thirty minutes left or the plane will depart without you.
And then you remember the locket you have been saving up for a month to buy for her. So you to dig your left hand into your coat pocket, and without letting her notice it, you pick it out and grip it close with your fist.
And as you separate from her, your lips twist into a smile when you hand onto her palm a silver locket. You notice her cheeks flush pink and her eyes glitter with surprise and contentment. Seeing her face like that, your heart seems to sink both in happiness… and regret.
Regret it is.
You want to say something but it feels like your tongue is tied with a rope, making it hard for you to speak. Her watery blue eyes reflect your face; you couldn’t stand to see it. So you take a big swallow and close your eyes to fight off the tension.
And reminding yourself of the time and with the saying that action speaks louder than words, you wrap your arm around her waist and pull her body toward yours.
“W-what are you doing?”
Without answering, you place your lips against her forehead and say, “Don’t ever forget about me.”
And before she could say anything, you part from her. Grabbing your baggage, you mutter a goodbye and turn back.
You hear her call out your name but you ignore it, not because of the time but because of your stupid pride.
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