Examine

thirteen

MICHAEL

Nine years earlier

I haven't told Isla I'm leaving. 

I'm too scared of how she'll react. That's why I hid the flights I bought, why I'm packing my bags at the last minute, why I put a bit of paper over the eyehole in my door so that she can't see that the light is on in my room.

My bag is packed and I'm putting on my shoes. I can feel my body swelling with relief at the thought of going home. Just think, in ten hours I will be at home, surrounded by my old friends and family.

I can't wipe the stupid grin off my face, as I check my flight details and see that there are only two hours until boarding. I better leave.

I'm almost out of college when I hear an unmistakable voice. "Michael?" Isla sounds confused and worried.

I freeze as I feel the ground disappear beneath me. I reluctantly turn around to face her. "Hey, Isla."

"Where are you going? Why do you have a suitcase?"

I run a hand through my hair. "I'm going home."

"But -"

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads up, but it was kind of last minute. I've got to go –"

"So last minute you couldn't tell your girlfriend?" Isla spits out, bitter that I've kept this from her. But I'm also fuming, I've just been better at concealing my anger.

"It's Ashley's seventeenth birthday," I say, watching her reaction carefully. "I have to go now, or I'll be late."

Isla doesn't look surprised when I tell her why. Did that mean she was involved in doing something with Scottie's letter?

I don't have the guts to ask. I don't want to think of her like that.

Isla is quiet. If we were in my room, now she would be making self-harm threats, crying or yelling at me. Maybe all three. But we're in the foyer of our college building, and enough people are trickling past to dissuade her from doing that.

"I'll see you when I get back," I tell her gently.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't," Isla says under her breath. She steps closer until to anyone else, this would look like a cordial display. "If anything happens to me while you're gone, you'll be the last to know."

I heave a sigh and shake my head, turning to go. How the fuck do I even respond to that? Whereas before I was excited to go, Isla managed to quash that with just one conversation.

I can't take this anymore.  

I'm almost at the automatic sliding doors when I turn back around, leaving my suitcases where they are, and stride back to meet Isla.

Unmitigated fury is channelling through my veins. I can't take any more of her shit. If I'm worried about her, I'll call the police or an ambulance. I won't have her threats hanging over my head for one moment longer. I can't be the one to make sure she's okay. Not anymore.

"You know what? I'm done."

Isla blinks in surprise and a little mew of pain escapes her. But I'm not finished.

"We're done. I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore. Find someone else you can screw around because I can't -"

I'm choking up on the words. When I get angry, I also get upset, and I can't keep my shit together.

"No, Michael," Isla breaks in, tears already flooding her eyes.

I shake my head, ignoring her distress. It's easier now; I've become more callous in the time we've been together. 

"We're done," I repeat, before I rush away, grabbing my bags and hustling toward the train station that will take me to the airport. But in most ways, I'm already gone.