❝You cannot easily drop a person out of your mind. Especially when that person left a special mark on your heart.❞

-unknown

______________________

The aroma of worn books floated up my nose as I wandered into the local library. I smiled in anticipation of the discovery of a good book. My fingers thrummed on my bag as I gave the librarian a quick smile and hurried of to find something.

I knew that I was looking for a specific book before I came in, but now I couldn't remember what it was. All I could think to look for was the Steve Jobs autobiography.

I sighed as I paused in the middle of a random area, knowing good and well that I wasn't actually paying attention to any of the books. Max and I had been exploring the town together on a regular basis for about a week now. Yet, something was really bothering me.

The numbers written on his hands were getting smaller and smaller.

I bit my lip. It had to be a countdown of sorts, but what could he be counting down for? I sinking feeling gnawed away at my stomach, but I pushed it away, refusing to consider anything yet.

I would just have to ask him before the countdown ended. He was now on nine, and I something told me I would sincerely dread when he got to one.

I guess it just means I have to get to know him better a little faster that normal, which felt good because for once I was kind of sick of being normal. With Max I never felt plain even though I knew I looked it.

I made up my mind. Picking a random book off of the shelf, I stomped to the register to check out my book. With a quick thank you, I walked out and ran to my car, just sitting once inside.

"Okay, tomorrow, I'm gonna do it," I told myself. "I'm gonna ask him about the numbers."

I drove home, the entire way never really focusing on the road. I seriously needed a distraction.

***

"What happened to you cheek?" He asked me the next morning. It was still snowing out, and the temperatures chilled me to the bone. The coffee shop's perfect cozy temperature was just another reason to love it here.

I brought my hand up to the area he seemed to be pointing to. Embarrassment flooded by system when I remembered what had happened, and punched myself mentally for not covering the bruise this morning.

"Oh, um," I thought for a moment for a reason that was ten times less lame that the actual one.

What am I supposed to say? It was from a wall handstand that I was doing in my room to distract myself from thinking about you. But, it didn't really work, and I crashed into my dresser.

Oh he would love that.

"I fell," I said after a moment. He didn't believe me, and I didn't really expect him to either, but there were more pressing matters to worry about.

I had made up my mind, and was going to ask about the number on his hand that had, as expected, decreased by one since the last time I saw him.

"Max," I took a deep breath and then looked up at him from my coffee. Wad it supposed to be this difficult? "Yesterday when I asked you about what type of shampoo you used, I didn't actually mean it." I said in a jumble, heat rising in my cheeks.

"I mean I'm sure whatever shampoo you use is great. Your hair looks great," I said weakly, fiddling with my cup.

Just say it Loni.

"What I mean is, I was actually wondering-"

"What the number on my hand means?" I gaped at him as he met my eyes with a sad smile. What did he have to be sad about?

My heart was thundering in my chest.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice, but it would be unlike you not to notice," he said with a small smile. My heart was still beating a mile a minute.

Why was he hoping that I wouldn't notice? A sinking feeling gathered in my stomach, and my hands were suddenly too clammy.

"Max, whats going on?" I asked in a timid voice, unsure of whether or not I really wanted to know at this point. I was indecisive, because I wanted to know and didn't at the same time.

"My dad," Max started, keeping his eyes frozen on his mug, "he received a promotion, which you think would be exciting and all. I mean it is," he mumbled, it seemed partly to himself and partly to me. "but," he sighed, clenching his cup. "in eight days I'm moving to Massachusetts."

Massachusetts.

He's moving.

To Massachusetts.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything. Uncontainable disbelief flooded my body as I just stared at Max. He was leaving, and their was absolutely nothing I could do to keep him here.

It felt as if something was sitting on my chest, preventing me from feeling anything. Like it wanted me to swim around in a pool of nothing, while every emotion I've ever felt was being prevented access.

I vaguely remember my coffee spilling over, and the staff coming to help clean up but I was frozen. Everything around me was surreal. I shook my head unconsciously. This was a joke. That's it. It was just some sick joke. Tears leaked from my eyes, betraying me. My whole body was trembling in my seat, but I wasn't in charge of my limbs. I was confused I think, because my mind was sending signals, but no one was responding.

This.

This was so unfair.

If the world was capable of doing this to me, it truly was a cruel place to be. And here I was, a simple girl who was unable to do anything about the way it treated humanity. I was simply another victim.

"You're," I started but I became choked up. "leaving," I said breathlessly through my veil of tears. It was only then that I felt like I could partially breath again.

"Loni," Max achingly said, the heartbreak in his voice tangible. Suddenly, I was angry, no I was furious as my emotions suddenly came slamming back to me. The floodgate that had been denying access suddenly let up, and everything came forcefully to the front.

Why didn't he tell me sooner? He had all of this time to tell me, and he chose eight days before, when I was the one who brought it up?

"When were you going to tell me Max?" I asked, angrily wiping the tears that keep falling on my sleeve. "Were you ever going to tell me, or were you just going to disappear one day as I waited here in the coffee shop for you?" I said through clenched teeth, gathering my stuff.

My brain processed the bright red burn on my hand from the coffee I had just spilled across the table. It stung, but I couldn't tell if my body was in pain from the burn or from the devastating news.

"Of course I was going to tell you!" He reached for me frantically, but I dodged his touch.

The look on his face, God, I can't even begin to explain the amount of sadness it held, but I was sure that mine mirrored almost exactly. I was so broken right now. The smallest touch from him could make me explode.

I was done here. I was so hurt and confused in this moment, that I didn't know what to do, what to think other than to rush out of the coffee shop, and blindly follow the path to my car.

"Loni, please," he cried from behind me. My shoulders shook as I tried to keep in the emotions that were so desperately fighting to come out. "I don't," he started with a broken voice, but paused, rethinking his words.

"I can't imagine what you must think of me right now, but please," he begged with sorrowful eyes. "I don't want to leave with this as my last memory of you."

I turned away.

I just couldn't look at him right now. If I did, I might collapse. I couldn't even understand why I felt so strongly about this. I knew that I liked him but these were some pretty powerful emotions for liking someone.

"I'm sorry Max, but I just can't handle this right now. I-" I cut myself off, looking up at the unforgiving sky. "I just need some time to think."

Those were the last words I spoke, before I got into my car, heartbroken and defeated.

I drove off without another glance back.