item on the bottom that she had added without my knowledge.
Visit Whitney in Peru.
That was the moment when I knew she wasn’t coming back.
“What can I do to help?” Alfred asked.
I swallowed, taking several breaths, and wiped my face. “You can get me the hell out of here.”
“Right away.”
I held the paper against my chest, watching Boston through the glass of the backseat, eventually rolling down the window. The summer air was warm against my face, but there was a breeze coming in.
Just like the wind.
The one I’d felt at the finish line.
But this time, I remembered the darkness, and it hurt more than anything.
Part Two
They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
Except they’ve never felt pain like mine …
Seventeen
Whitney
April 15, 2013
“On your days off, how do you manage to make everything look so freaking cute?” Emily, my best friend, asked from the doorway of my bedroom. “Like that hat, for example, which would make my ears stick out like an elephant.”
“Oh, stop it.” I tucked the bottom of my jeans into a pair of UGGs, fixing the collar of my chunky sweater on the way up, and moved in front of the full-length mirror. “You’re the epitome of cute.” Several hairs had come out of my messy braid, and I shoved them back into the folds along with the ones that had escaped my pink Red Sox hat.
“Now, I know you’re drunk.”
I laughed, swiping away a mascara flake that had fallen to my cheek. “Not even close.”
“Are you almost ready?” When I nodded, she added, “I’m going to grab my purse. Meet me in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be there in two seconds.”
She left, and I gave myself a final once-over, making sure the top came down low enough and the jeans didn’t look foolish with the boots. Satisfied, I slung my bag across my body and met Emily in the kitchen, looping arms as we headed to the elevator.
Since the bar we were going to was in the Back Bay and we lived in the West End, near my job at Mass General, we took the train. It was completely packed, and Emily and I crammed into a small pocket by one of the doors.
“Thank God,” she sighed as we got off at our stop. “I’m pretty sure the man next to us was trying to swallow me with his armpit. And let me tell you, the scent wasn’t kind. At all.”
“We’ll get you some beer, and you’ll forget all about it.”
Her blonde hair blew in my face as we rushed up the stairs of the train station and hurried down the crowded sidewalk and into the bar. We stood in the entryway, looking for Fiona and Rebecca—nurses I worked with at the hospital—and I spotted them at a table toward the middle of the room.
“My God, the city is busy today,” I said, hugging Rebecca.
“Of course it is. We can expect nothing less,” she replied. “Have you taken a look around in here? It’s insane.”
Emily and I were fortunate that our girls lived in this section of town and came to this bar all the time, convincing one of the waitresses they were friendly with to reserve us a table.
Fiona and I kissed cheeks, and I sat on one of the open stools, next to Emily, beers already waiting for us on the high-top.
“You guys are good,” I said, lifting the cold bottle in the air, waiting for them to do the same.
“To marathon day,” Rebecca said, and we all clinked and took sips.
“Good Lord,” Emily groaned, glancing around. “This place is cray. I bet we could sell this table for a thousand dollars right now.”
“You’re selling?” I heard in a man’s voice.
I swung my neck to the right, where a redheaded guy was standing just behind Emily and me.
“You’re buying?” Emily responded.
The redhead removed his wallet, counting the bills inside. “I’ve got about seven hundred on me.” He cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, “Hey, Caleb, do you have any cash on you?”
I looked in the direction the redhead had yelled, and a man at the back of the bar line had turned at the sound of his name, now facing us.
Caleb’s eyes were such a radiant blue that I could see them from all the way over here.
The redhead waved him over, and Caleb looked in his wallet as he approached, stopping once he reached his friend.
“I’ve got about a thousand,” he answered. “Why?”
As the last word