Letting Go

After being brutally abused by her father and outcasted by her classmates, seventeen year old Keller Alvidas is glad and even relieved to spend her last year at Edge-of-The-World, the sleepy small town she grew up in. Everything changes when the Gabriels, a group of orphaned teenage boys arrives. They break all her rules about meeting new people but they too have secrets and when the truth comes out Keller has to decide wether to let go and save herself or to continue to be dragged through everything she wanted to run away from, all for one chance she might never get.


37. Somber Attitudes

Keller's P.O.V

I pace the room nervously, packing and unpacking maniacally at the same time. Today's the day, I tell myself only to doubt myself and start the process all over again. I tried doing homework to distract myself but that just brought me back to university and then for some sick reason, I'd get homesick. I don't know anyone in London anyways.

Josh'll be there.

I scrunch my face up in fear, he probably hates me now. My stomach roils at the thought, or maybe he regrets ever speaking to me. I don't know which is worse.

My room surprisingly seems to grow smaller and smaller, the air thicker. I slip my eyes shut for a moment, a futile attempt at trying to relax. But instead of relaxing, the moment my eyes snap open the world lurches to the side.

Breathe Keller, I tell myself. This is probably just an anxiety attack. It happens to people, it happened to Iron Man. I frown at the last thought, my inner nerd is showing. In the end I pack my suitcase and pray that tomorrow I'll have the strength to make a decision.


I pull jeans and a red button-up out of the suitcase and shrug them on, still on the fence about everything. I then carefully re-pack the suitcase, pull out the five hundred dollars worth of emergency money I hid under my bed and on top of my suitcase. I pull on my bag for school and walk into the other rooms, hoping that James'll be there.

I tentatively knock on the door, not wanting to startle them.

"Guys, it's Keller!" I yell after five mintues of no response. Moans of "It's too early for school!" make their way past the door and echo in the hallway. I tap my foot impatiently on the wood and wait for them to get ready. I lean my head against the doorframe, finding cold comfort in the hard wood, before it stumbles open and sends me careening into the room. I land in a face full of jeans.

"You guys have to do your laundry sometime," I grumble while getting up. To my surpise, only two people are there: James and Al. My eyes immediatedly dart to James, expecting accusation and anger but only finding fear. I blink a couple times to see if my eyes are playing tricks on me but it's still there, the wild fear that's similar to a caged animal.

"You guys having a staring contest or something?" says Al, casually standing in between us. For a moment I'm grateful for Al's interference because if he didn't, I'd be running straight into James' arms by now.

"Where's everyone else?" I ask, avoiding the question. James brushes past me on his way to the washroom and I resist the urge to stop him. Instead I face Al.

"Went early," he shrugs. I nod.

"I guess I'll meet you at the front," I say, making my way to the door. But Al stops me, laying a light hand on my elbow.

"Hey, wait up," he calls and I stop at the door. "Did something happen between you and James?" he asks, gesturing down the hall at  the bathroom. Heat prickles in my cheeks but I force it down.

"Why?" I answer instead, not knowing myself what was happening. His brown eyes bore into mine, digging for the truth, searching for whatever put his friend in such mess. What put me in such a mess. Giving up, he shakes his head while picking up a stray t-shirt off the floor.

"Nothing, it's just that he was really upset the other night and I'm concerned. He's practically my brother, you know?" he says. A lump forms in my throat but I ignore it.

"I know. I don't want to hurt him either," I say, looking him in the eye. After discerning the truth he nods once more.

"But he mumbled somthing about a broken heart the other night and I was just worried," he says. The words 'broken heart' echo inside my head and I my own heart lurches, but I keep it together. I couldn't have hurt him that much, could I?

"Well, since we got that out of the way, did you hear about my acceptance letter?" he asks excitedly. My ears perk up at happy news for once and I smile, for real this time.

"What school are you going to?" I say. Al searches through stacks of paper on the table beside his bed and produces a heavy, cream coloured letter. He hands it to me happily, his brown eyes lighting up.

I skim over the letter, scholarship and orientation times, and gawk at the crest at the head of the letter. He's going to Dartmouth.

"My goodness Al! Congratulations!" I run over and hug him, feeling like the proud mother we never had, and soak up this little piece of good news.

"I have this summer and I'm leaving though," he says, sadness flooding his voice. "And it's all the way in America."

"Did you tell the guys yet?" I ask, hoping for advice on how to break the news.

"Yeah, we're all pretty happy but sad at the same time. I mean, we've been together since our childhood. But I guess we've got to separate sometime. I'm gonna miss them."

"Yeah," I say. A door in the hall slams shut and footsteps reverberate through the halls.

"Guys, c'mon. We're gonna be late!" James calls from the hall. I release Al and we both leave the room, high spirits smothered by somber attitudes.


The walk wasn't as awkward as I thought it'd be, just Al and James chatting animatedly while I listened on, refusing to let my bad attitude ruin everything. Well, more than it already has.

"James," I say once Al left for the science room for his study notes, unable to contain myself. "We need to talk."

Fear dialates his pupils and I worry that I've said something wrong already.

"Yeah, we should," he whispers. A smile, seemingly genuine, lights his face and I feel puzzled. "But I got stuck with doing the laundry today so maybe we can talk later at the laundromat? You know, the one called 'Speaky Clean'?"

Of course I know that place, I worked there for two years.

"Um, sure," I say, taken aback by the choice of scenery but happy nonetheless that I can talk things over with him. Maybe things will turn around then.

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