The smell of old books mixed with her perfume hit me the moment I stepped into her room. Clothes were half folded, books stacked haphazardly on the floor, and her desk looked like a mini war zone of stationery and college brochures.
I picked up a small bag, shaking my head. "Do you really need twenty notebooks for one semester?"
Lena laughed, tossing me a hair tie. "You clearly don't understand the chaos of my genius brain."
"Right," I said, grinning. "Because every genius needs a lifetime supply of hair ties." I tossed one back at her, and it landed on her pillow.
She picked it up, holding it like a trophy. "Hey, don't you know how important a hair tie is for a girl? One day, it could save my life."
I shook my head, smiling through the lump in my throat. "Or make you late because you spent ten minutes looking for it."
Lena feigned offense. "How dare you! My organizational skills are legendary."
I chuckled, then nudged a pile of textbooks. "Legendary chaos, maybe."
She nudged back. "You just love judging me."
I shrugged, trying to keep it light. "Guilty as charged. But seriously, Ash, stop looking so serious. It's just packing."
I glanced at the stack of New Columbia acceptance letters pinned above her desk, and my chest tightened. This was the real goodbye.
She was packing for her future and I was helping her leave mine behind.
I shoved another book into the bag, careful not to knock over the ones balancing precariously beside it. "You really think you're going to fit your whole life in one suitcase?"
Lena tilted her head, grinning. "It's amazing what determination can do."
I smirked. "Or stubbornness."
"Call it whatever you want. You're just jealous I'm leaving you behind."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Jealous? Me? Nah. I'm thrilled. Absolutely thrilled for you."
Her grin softened, and for a moment, she just looked at me, that quiet, soft look that always melted something inside me.
I made a joke about her bringing a mountain of pens like they'd save her life. She laughed, tossing me another pen, but even the words sounded hollow.
We folded clothes like it was just another sleepover. We teased, we joked, we acted like it was normal. But somewhere deep down, I knew even this small, silly goodbye would change everything.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The glow of my laptop felt too bright in the dark room. I'd been checking my email like it would magically change the outcome, like staring hard enough could bend the universe to my favor.
Another rejection. Another one. And another.
Local aid programs, merit scholarships, even those part-time work-study opportunities that promised a small lifeline… all nothing. Every subject line screamed the same thing: We regret to inform you…
I leaned back, rubbing my eyes. The screen blurred, and I had to blink twice before I could focus.
The walls felt like they were closing in. My father's debts kept mounting, threatening to swallow the little we had left. Grandma's pension barely stretched to cover groceries, let alone college tuition. I imagined her counting each cent as if it were a lifeline.
And Lena… she was out there, somewhere in her room, probably packing for New Columbia, her dreams so vivid they almost hurt to watch.
I clenched my fists on the desk.
It wasn't jealousy. How could I ever be jealous of the one I could give up my life for? It was grief, for the version of me that could've followed her. The me that should've been braver, smarter, luckier. The me who deserved to be beside her instead of stuck in the same worn-out town with worn-out debts.
I slammed the laptop shut. I needed to, otherwise I might keep reading these rejection emails again and again, engraving this fact deep in my brain that I'm nothing but a loser. I sank into my chair, head in hands.
Lena's voice echoed in my memory from earlier that day: "Ash, you'll find a way. You always do."
I laughed bitterly at the silence. I wanted to believe her, but hope felt like a stranger here, just beyond my reach.
I couldn't cry yet. Not now. Not when the weight of everything: the debts, the broken home, the impossibility of following her, pressed too hard. I just sat there, staring at the ceiling, the rejection notices burned into my mind like a warning: This isn't your time.
No, I can't be broken. I'd work harder. Somehow, I'd find a way.
But for now… I had to accept that I couldn't leave. Not yet.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The door creaked open, and Lena stepped into the small room I'd claimed as my own. Her eyes were wide, the kind of intensity that always made me feel like she could see every thought hiding behind my defenses.
She had found out about the rejections. I didn't have the courage to hide it anymore. Like me, she was too hoping that I might be able to win one of these several scholarships I was studying meticulously for and join her in New Columbia.
Her voice was soft at first, trembling slightly.
"Dad wants to help, Ash. Please… don't let pride ruin your life."
I shook my head, looking away. "It's not pride. It's survival. I can't build my dreams on someone else's kindness."
She knelt beside me, tears glimmering on her lashes. "You don't always have to bear everything alone. You don't have to—"
I cut her off, a little harshly, because the truth scared me. "I have to. That's how it is. That's how it's always been."
Her hand brushed mine, soft but insistent. "Ash… you're not alone anymore. You have me."
I swallowed, my throat tight. "I'll try again next year. Harder this time. I promise."
She nodded slowly, though the tears continued to slide down her cheeks.
I was lying to both of us. But sometimes love is made of small lies meant to keep the heart from shattering.