Why did I have to leave? Well I knew exactly why, but I still didn't want to. I probably would have been fine if it was a couple of cities away, but no, it was a whole hemisphere away from the people I care about. To say that I hated this was an understatement, nothing could be worse than leaving the people I care about.
I didn't even realize that I was staring down into one of the boxes until there was a knock on my bedroom door frame. Calum stood there with a completely reassuring look covering his face. He was the only one that knew I hadn't told Lucas yet. I hated myself for not even bothering to try and tell him.
"I'm just not gonna tell him and deal with the guilt for the rest of my life." I stated as I threw a stack of jeans into an empty box. The tone of my voice sounded so sarcastic that I laughed. Calum only stared at me like I was deranged. I didn't blame him, I probably was in some ways.
"If you really decided not to say goodbye to your best friend. You would seriously regret it your entire life. You do realize that you leave tomorrow, right?" He explained, making me want to slam my head against the wall. One more day until I'm in a place I know nothing about.
"I'm really not ready for tomorrow, Cal." I sighed, sitting down on my bed. He came and sat down beside me, awkwardly patting my shoulder as if he was trying to reassure me in some way. "You could be... less..not ready if you told Luke that you're moving to America." I stifled a laugh at his attempts to try and cheer me up just a little bit.
I wanted to tell him, it was just bringing it up which scared me; like how do I wedge that into a conversation? "Hi Lucas, do you wanna hang out today? Oh by the way, you'll probably never see me again because I'm moving to America." Seriously that is like putting ketchup on ice cream, won't work at all.
"I want to tell him. It's just that I don't know how to." My eyes went wide as they often did when I got serious about something. Calum started to laugh at me, which made me smack his arm and stand up off of my bed. "What?-You are not helping me at all."
"You could just go for it and tell him. What could possibly go wrong with that." I gave myself a face palm and I mean a literal one. This whole time after I found out that I had to move, I'd been trying to find a way to sugarcoat my explanation. I would have told him a long time ago if my idiot self would have thought of that.
"You're sitting next to the biggest idiot on the planet. Why didn't I ever think to do that?"
Hesitantly, I knocked on Lucas' front door and moments later, his mother answered. She smiled as soon as she saw me. "Hey, Beverleigh! Luke's just in his room." I faked a smile, trying to meet her gaze and walked into the house. Making my way to his room, I bit my lip, absent mindedly thinking about possible things that could go wrong.
I stared at him for a second through the small opening of the door. He looked so peaceful while he strummed his guitar. I knocked on the doorframe and he looked up and smiled at me.
"Hey Bev." He greeted while he stood and completely open the door for me. I very well could have done that myself but the both of us knew how much I hated to barge into someone else's personal space. Before he turned to sit back on his bed, I pulled him into a tight embrace. Him being surprised by my action, slowly returned it. I was really going to miss his hugs.
He pulled away and stared at me. "What? I can't just hug my best friend, Lucas?" I asked, a bit of a smirk curling my lips. My attempt didn't even begin to lighten my mood. He stood here oblivious to the thousands of thoughts racing through my head as tried to figure out how to blurt this out.
"What are we doing today?" He asked as he flopped down on his bed once again. I decided to just get straight to the point. "Don't know. I can't stay too long." I replied, a bit of a cold tone came through. His eyes widened at the statement.
"What do you mean? What's going on?"
I took a deep breath and just said it, "I'm moving to go live with my mum tomorrow." His expression didn't change.
"What's the problem with that? We'll still see each other, right?"
"Probably not. She lives in America." The happy look on his face disappeared and turned into a blank stare. He seemed to have shrugged this off.
"Alright. Maybe we'll see each other again sooner or later." Clearly, he didn't really care. The tone in his voice said it all; it was bland and about as emotionless as the look on his face.
I just gave up and walked out of his room. The fact that he didn't even care made tears begin to prick my eyes. I quickly blinked them away as I made my way out of the house.
I don't think I ever really had a best friend.