Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Sixteen: "You Should Close The Door"

It's been nearly two weeks since I "ran away" from home. Nearly two weeks since I talked any member of my family. Nearly two weeks since I took a leap into the unknown... trusting myself to find my footing along the way.

It's been roughly four hours since I parted ways with Harry, roughly four hours since he kissed my forehead, holding onto my shoulders with a tight grip and then walked away. Four hours since I saw him smile or listened to his random thoughts as we sat together, four hours since I again took a leap into the unknown... unsure if I'd ever see him again.

Now sitting on this uncomfortable bench in a nearly empty bus station with the surroundings so quiet that it almost makes me sick, I try to figure out which is harder to deal with. Running away from home or watching Harry get off the bus with no intention of rejoining me...

The answer should be running away. I should be more attached to this dramatic change in my life and what I left behind from before. It makes much more sense for me to be upset about leaving my family, friends and everything I grew up knowing than it does for me to feel slightly heartbroken watching a boy I've known for barely two weeks walk away from our short lived adventure together.

I don't feel what I should, though. In fact, I feel a little lost knowing that I don't have someone to run with.

"This isn't goodbye," he grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb over the top in soft circles. "I don't want to say goodbye yet, we're still headed in the same direction."

"Except you're taking a detour," I add, looking down at my hand in his. It feels like it belongs there and I find myself frowning at the thought of it being gone, no longer laced with his, in a matter of minutes.

"You sure you don't want to come?" he asks again for at least the twentieth time in the last five minutes. I think he's hoping if he asks enough I'll change my mind... and I keep hoping if I say no enough, he'll change his.

So far this hasn't worked for either of us.

"Just in case we don't run into each other again," he whispers quietly, moving even closer to me. In the beginning I noticed Melanie and Gabby off to the side, talking with each other as they waited for Harry, but at this point my brain completely blocks them out, only focusing on him. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

I smile at him and try to hide my worries that I might be saying goodbye to it right now.

"Greta," her voice sounds relieved like every other time I've called her. Only this time there is a slight happiness to it, not simply driven by the desperateness to know I'm still alive, but appreciation that I've dialed her number. "Finally figured out how to use your own phone, huh?"

"Here, take this," he hands me a piece of paper. "I know you have a thing about not turning your phone on... but if you ever get stranded in the middle of nowhere or just need someone to talk to, um, yeah," he fades off, looking to the side.

I open it to see his number scribbled down on the wrinkled paper. His name's at the top, like he thinks I'd forget who it belonged to... which would be impossible.

"Thanks," I nod my head, trying to hold in any sadness. "What happened to not saying goodbye? This seems like goodbye material."

"Just in case."

"Laurel," I say her name so quietly that barely a sound comes out. "Hey," I mean to say more but I find it difficult to speak.

I didn't fully think the phone call through before dialing the number. In fact, I stared at the piece of paper Harry handed me with his number on it for a good half hour, contemplating if I should admit defeat after such a short amount of time.