The Summer Bucket List

Chapter 17

August’s POV

“Happy Birthday Darling!” I woke up from my mother’s voice, while dad stood beside her clapping his hands. She was holding a cake, and they were both wearing a triangular birthday cap. They do this every year as if I am still a kid. I couldn’t complain because I was at their house on my every- f*****g-birthday. “Mom, Dad, stop. I’m a grown man now.” I answered them with the exact words every year. I groaned, covering the blanket all over me.

It's August 3rd, my birthday and Farah’s. We were born the same day, that’s why it was always on the Summer Bucket List to have a best birthday party, a gift and a birthday wish. I have never forgotten that. It was embedded in my mind, sculpted and will remain even decades past, even no notes to remind me of it.

“Get up grown-up man. It’s your birthday,” Mom said, teasing me, while dad just laughed.

…

I walked downstairs to find out everyone was there, including Jella and Caven.

“What’s happening here?” I asked, confused. “It’s your birthday, Asshole.” Caven said laughing. “Happy Birthday, August,” Jella greeted as she kissed my cheek. “This is for you, jerk.” Caven handed me a gift. He had already called me on every curse that could be thrown into a man. But if it comes from him? I’ll never get offended. “Thanks bro.” I laughed under my breath.

“Open it,” he said, in a quiet, teasing way. It’s wrapped and it’s cold. I was hesitating but I still opened it. I was confused to see a container of ice cream. Jella and Caven laughed hard. “I got you that, so you will not bite me if Farah’s ice cream spills again.” I laugh. “I remember that.” I told him.

“I got you this one too.” Jella handed me her gift. “ What is this? A burger? A pizza? “I said.” I don’t trust you guys.”

“No, Idiot.” She laughs. I opened, and it was our friendship photo when we won the Sand Castle Competition.

“We were so little,” Jella uttered. “Yeah.” A smile popped out of my face.

“You and Farah look so good together there,” Mom said when she saw the photo in my hand.

“By the way, It’s Farah’s birthday too, and we’re planning to surprise her.” Mom followed.

“We should do that,” Jella answered, enthusiastically. I smiled, agreeing.

Everyone was preparing for the surprise, when suddenly Jella marched towards us with bad news. “She’s not coming.” I just stood there, befuddled.

“Why?” mom asked. “She’s flying back to Washington with Easton, and she said she’s not coming back.” Everyone was devastated, including me, especially me. I was lost for words, paralyzed.

She left me again. Those are the only words that came out of my mind.

I was in my room staring straight at a blank wall, holding my phone, trying to call her a hundred times. But none of it was answered. “Honey. May I come in?” It’s Mom. She slowly opened the door, and I watched her walk towards me carrying a gift. It was shaped like a box. “This is for you, honey.”

“Thanks Mom.” I tried to twitch a smile. She watched me—my reaction — as I opened the gift. It was indeed a box filled with old photographs. It was me and Farah when we were just little. It’s our timeline of growing up together for eight years. It also contains our old Summer Bucket List.

“The night when she was drunk, she cried in front of me.” I stared back at my mom. “She said everything that happened to her sixteen years ago.”

…

I ran to the airport holding my luggage as if my feet hadn’t touched the ground. I felt hysterical. I am going to follow her in Washington. Jella got me the address of her apartment. I was desperate to find her.

What mom said gave me enough courage to fight and take a risk. I am not letting her go again, not this time around.

I couldn’t stay calm for two hours. I just wanted the time to slip quickly, so I could finally see her.

Two hours had passed. I was already at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Instantly, ride a taxi towards her address. It was already noon. Before I went straight to her apartment, I bought her flowers and a cake from a nearby store. When I found her address, I felt hysterical again. I took a heavy breath to calm myself before I rang the doorbell. A long moment had passed and the door opened. But I was stunned, it wasn’t Farah, it was an old woman behind the door.

“Hello? Can I help you?” she asked.

“Hi. I’m a friend of Farah Carson. Does she live here?”

“Oh, yeah. But she’s not here,” she replied.

“May I know where she is?”

“I don’t really know, Dear. But she’ll be home later. “

“Alright, thank you.”

“You want to come and get a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks, I’ll wait for her here.”

“Okay,” she said, then closed the door.

I sat on the stairs and waited for her. It was already seven at noon. Seven o’clock became nine, nine o’clock became eleven, eleven o’clock became one o’clock in the morning, yet I remained there sitting steady, waiting for her. Then suddenly, I saw a shooting star in the night sky, then I remembered how we used to make a wish on our birthdays. Though it was kid stuff, I still closed my eyes and made a wish, to bring her back to me.

I didn’t know the sun was already shining brightly in the sky. I fell asleep on the stairs. She still wasn’t showing up. I was about to leave, when suddenly a car parked outside, it was the woman I had been waiting for.

“Farah.” I uttered, smiling. But that smile was instantly snatched when I saw Easton walk out of the car. “What the heck are you doing here?” He was about to walk towards me, when I saw Farah stop him.

He got back in the car, and waited there. She slowly walked towards, composed and firmly.

“What are you doing here, August?”

“I followed you,” I answered. She glanced at the flowers and the cake in my hands, and stared back at me. She didn’t ask about it. Because it’s obvious that it’s for her.

“This is for you.” I handed her my gifts, but she refused.

“You never should’ve come,” she said, trying hard to be cold though I could still see a longing in her eyes.

“I know you’ll push me away again. I’ve already anticipated that, Farah. But this time, I will not be swayed by it. Please, come back home with me.”

“I’m done in Morehead, August. I will not come back there, ever. I'd once promised you that, and now I’m doing it.” She cleared her throat quietly. “Please, leave. I don’t. Want to see. You again.” Her voice cavers in every word that she spoke. But I could see right through her, that she meant the opposite.

I sighed deeply. “Do you really want me to leave?” I stared hard at her. “ Yes.“ She said instantly, staring gloomy at me. I am well-known for those stares. We looked at each other for a long moment. Then, she blinked so fast, trying to stop her eyes from filling up with tears.

“Be honest with me, Farah. I know you love me. And, I know how much you wanted to be with me." I clipped. "You know how selfish I am, but this time I don't want to be selfish with you. I want you to choose what your heart really wants. And I will not leave here without an honest answer," I said, putting my whole heart into every word I said.

She frigidly stared at me, unrelenting “You’re right, August. But this is my life now. And I want you out of it.” She said directly to the point, like I expected it would. But this time, she didn’t flinch.

I know it was merely an honest answer. But half of me fell for the last sentence. I couldn’t persuade her no matter what I’ll say and do. I’m not giving up either. She rejected me many times, and I still fought for her. I still would. But I think now, it’s time to cease. It’s obvious you can’t melt a stone, but I know, somewhere in time, it’ll break.

I showed a sudden smile, a smile of someone who signed himself to acceptance.

“If that’s what you really wanted, then I’ll leave. But before I leave, I want you to know that summer will always be my favorite, because that’s when I got to meet you, and spent the most memorable eight summers with you. But I have always loved you through every season. And if somewhere in those seasons I get to see you again, I hope to see you genuinely smiling without regrets.” I said, then left her, along with the flowers and the cake on the stairs.

I walked away like the world was against me. Every step that I take is getting harder, getting heavier. They said, there’s always a bad day. And this is the worst day of all. The worst day that I could feel every excruciating ache inside me. It hurts. I’ve been trying hard to block the tears from coming out of my eyes, but now I just couldn’t. It slipped into my cheeks, silently.

Perhaps, this is really the final goodbye. Half of me, see that coming. I remember I said, the hardest goodbye is the goodbye that you never anticipated. It’s true though. Because anticipated goodbye, is the most painful goodbye that you can’t just contain and ignore.