Grace was walking leisurely on the sidewalk of Postmaster Street towards the more bustling downtown area. It was about two blocks in the opposite direction of the school, and the day was Sunday. It was the next Sunday after she got Lawrence to etch her initials in a piece of fence.

Downtown was usually fairly busy, but it had that sort of "small town" vibe to it. It had little hole-in-the-wall stores, stands, soft-serve ice cream, and interesting streets that curved in enigmatic ways that people could get easily lost. It had those traditional street lamps that had all those intricate designs and the sidewalk that was paved with bricks instead of concrete. It was almost like stepping back in time to the turn of the most recent century.

Lawrence had told Grace to meet him at the train station downtown at ten forty-five a.m. sharp. She wasn't exactly sure why the time or location, but she knew he would be there, waiting for her.

When Grace turned the corner to see Lawrence was pacing constantly back and forth. He paced so much that he could've dug a trench on his path if the ground was simply dirt.

“Lawrence, are you all right?” Grace asked him. Lawrence jumped in surprise and stopped to turn towards her. He had a bored look on his face despite his shock, as if he was expecting her earlier. She was already five minutes early, but what Lawrence wanted to do, would it take longer than the peak of the day?

“I'm fine, Grace. I just wanted to enjoy a day with you,” Lawrence said simply. Grace smiled, blushing, and looked away sheepishly.

“You shouldn't say things so embarrassing like that Lawrence,” Grace told him. Lawrence had his back turned as he wasn't listening to her. To the sound of her voice, he turned around.

“You say something?” he asked her. Grace sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, I asked where we should go,” Grace told him. Lawrence raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but shrugged as he walked back towards Postmaster Street. He stopped after four steps, then turned around and looked at Grace.

“Anywhere is fine as long as it's with you, I guess,” Lawrence said apathetically. He then kept walking down Postmaster Street, back towards the block where Lawrence and Grace had both grown up and grown close.

Grace had no real choice but to follow. Did Lawrence have some ulterior move? This was one of those few instances where she couldn't tell his intentions.

“Lawrence, wait up!” Grace shouted, running to catch up as Lawrence had an eight pace lead. She could tell that Lawrence had eased up when she shouted, and they eventually united on the beginning of the block that contained houses with addresses 170150 to 10160. Their home block was where they shared all their laughs, their tears, and their secrets.

“So you just wanted to go home?” Grace asked Lawrence.

“No, I'd prefer not to,” Lawrence answered rather quickly. Grace noticed Lawrence's quick response, and she didn't dispel it as him being on edge. She had a nagging feeling something was up, and she had to find out what that was.

“Why? Is there something wrong?” Grace asked him. Lawrence turned away and exhaled in frustration.

“No reason. Let's just go to your house,” he said finally. He passed the burgundy house he lived in and turned to Grace's house. Grace just stood as he walked slowly and surely to her front door. Lawrence then picked up a potted cactus, took a key from the underside of the pot, and unlocked the door. He then placed the key back in its original place, and paused. He then quickly turned to Grace, who was standing about twenty-five feet away from him. He then motioned her over, in which she came quickly.

“Let's go inside,” Lawrence said as he opened the door. Grace followed him as Lawrence made a beeline towards the hall, passing the living room.

Now it made sense now why Lawrence was being so hasty.

“Just go ahead and use the bathroom Lawrence,” Grace said as Lawrence had already made it down the hall and shut the door and locked it.

“I just don't get why he just didn't go in his own house…” Grace wondered. She decided to just look and see for herself. She went upstairs and went into her room. It was the best way to see for herself.

She looked through her bedroom window, which was her connection to Lawrence, and couldn't believe what she saw.

“So you found out…” Lawrence said, standing at Grace's bedroom doorframe. Through Grace's window she could see Lawrence's room, empty, except for two stacks of cardboard boxes labeled with something she couldn't see.

“You're moving?” Grace asked him. Lawrence stepped towards Grace and spoke to her.

“I couldn't bring myself to tell you Grace. After all the memories we have, and the initials in the fence, I just couldn't tell you,” Lawrence said. Grace was worried in her face as Lawrence kept standing. Out of panic, Grace ran into the hallway. She stood and leaned on the wall, her eyes flushed with tears. Lawrence, her childhood friend, was moving away.

“Grace, please don't worry about me. I will never forget you,” Lawrence assured her. He was behind Grace, who was now crying. He then put his hand on her left shoulder, and turned her around. They faced each other, looked into each others' eyes for a second, until Lawrence left.

Now, like when they were kids, they were strangers passing by each other in the halls, and so with a heavy heart, Grace whispered hello. And Lawrence whispered goodbye.