Leaving for Camp

Two days later, the morning was quiet, with a faint chill in the air that seemed to mirror the tension between Aria and Russell. The sky was a muted shade of gray, promising rain, though neither of them paid much attention to the weather. 

They stood in front of Russell's car, parked at the edge of Aria's driveway, his suitcase already stowed in the backseat. Russell had on a casual hoodie and jeans, but there was a nervous energy about him, like he couldn't quite decide how to begin his goodbyes.

Aria crossed her arms, trying to hide the uncertainty in her expression as she studied him. She felt a knot tightening in her chest, a growing ache that she couldn't quite name. 

It was strange, this feeling of watching him prepare to leave, knowing it was only temporary yet somehow feeling like it meant so much more. 

She kept telling herself that it was just a month, that they'd text and call each other during the summer camp, but there was a hollow part of her that worried about the changes this time apart might bring.

"So, this is it," Russell said, leaning against the car door and forcing a small, wry smile. He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, his hands betraying his nervousness. "I guess I'll see you in a few weeks."

Aria nodded, managing a smile that felt more fragile than she wanted it to. "Yeah, you'll be back before you know it. Just... make the most of the opportunity, okay? You deserve this, Russell."

He tilted his head, studying her face with an unreadable expression, as if trying to memorize every detail. "I will. And, you know, don't get too used to not having me around to bug you."

She laughed softly, but the sound was tinged with a touch of sadness. "No promises. I might even enjoy the peace and quiet for a change."

But even as she said the words, she knew they weren't true. 

She had grown used to Russell's presence—his teasing remarks, the way he always seemed to know when she needed a break from her own thoughts, the way he would quietly encourage her to keep going when she felt like giving up on her writing. 

Without him, the house felt like it would be just a little too quiet, the days stretching out with an unfamiliar emptiness.

Russell cleared his throat, glancing away toward the horizon, where the clouds seemed to hang lower, darker. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something else, but instead, he pushed away from the car and took a step closer to her. 

The sudden movement made her heart skip a beat, and she had to resist the urge to take a step back, as if putting physical distance between them could protect her from the emotions swirling in her chest.

He reached out, hesitated, then gently touched her shoulder, his hand warm through the fabric of her sweater. "Hey, seriously though... thanks, Aria. For everything. For listening, for putting up with me... you've been a really good friend."

Aria's smile wavered, and she had to look away to keep from showing too much. The word friend lodged itself in her chest like a splinter, sharp and painful. 

But she swallowed back her emotions, forcing herself to keep things light. "I should be the one thanking you, Russell. You've... helped me more than you know."

There was a beat of silence, thick with all the things they weren't saying, and then he pulled his hand back, shoving it into his pocket. 

He rocked on his heels, looking almost as if he wanted to say something more, something that would linger between them long after he was gone. But then, just as quickly, he seemed to think better of it. He reached for the car door handle, hesitating one last time before he pulled it open.

"Well, I guess this is it," he said, offering her a lopsided smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You take care, okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You too, Russell."

He ducked into the driver's seat, closing the door with a soft thud that seemed to echo in the stillness of the morning. 

Aria stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched him start the engine. The hum of the car filled the air, mingling with the distant rustle of the trees and the soft murmur of an approaching breeze.

For a moment, it felt like time had slowed, like they were suspended in this in-between space where all the words they wanted to say hovered just out of reach. 

Aria thought she saw something flicker in Russell's expression as he glanced back at her through the window, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

And then, with a small wave and a forced grin, he drove away.

Aria stood there, watching as his car disappeared down the road, the taillights fading into the distance until they were swallowed up by the curve. She kept standing even after the sound of the engine had faded, her chest tightening with an ache she hadn't been prepared for. 

It wasn't until she heard the first raindrop plink against the driveway that she realized her cheeks were wet—not from the rain, but from the tears she hadn't realized she'd shed.

She wiped them away quickly, as if brushing off the emotions would make them disappear. It was silly, she told herself, to feel this way over a temporary goodbye. 

But deep down, she knew it wasn't just about him leaving for camp. It was about the possibility that things might change between them, that the time apart might shift whatever fragile balance they'd managed to create.

She turned back toward the house, forcing herself to focus on the day ahead. There were chores to do, pages to write, and deadlines to meet. 

But even as she moved through the familiar motions, her mind kept drifting back to that last glimpse of Russell's smile, the way it had lingered just long enough to make her heart ache.

Inside, the house felt colder than usual, the quiet settling around her like a weight. She tried to busy herself with her writing, but her thoughts kept circling back to the memory of their farewell, the things she wished she'd said but hadn't. 

She found herself staring at the blank screen of her laptop, the cursor blinking back at her like a silent challenge.

Eventually, she gave up on trying to focus, letting herself sink into the worn cushions of the living room couch. 

She picked up her phone, scrolling through the pictures they'd taken together over the past few months—snapshots of lazy afternoons, study sessions, their impromptu road trip to the lake, and that night they'd spent talking until dawn. 

Each image was a reminder of how much he'd become a part of her life, of the little moments she'd come to cherish without even realizing it.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to send him a message, to say something—anything—that might ease the heaviness in her chest. 

But she stopped herself, knowing that he was already on his way, probably too busy thinking about the new experiences ahead to worry about a text from her.

With a sigh, she set the phone aside, letting her head fall back against the couch cushions. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft patter of the rain against the window, trying to convince herself that it was just another chapter in their story—a temporary pause, not an ending. 

Yet as she sat there, alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder if this goodbye was the beginning of something she wasn't ready to face.

In the quiet of the empty house, Aria whispered to herself, her voice barely a breath against the darkness. "Come back soon, Russell. Please."

And as the rain fell outside, she hoped that somewhere down the road, he was thinking of her too.