Page 66 of Running Home to You
“Can we talk?”
They sat in the bleachers and waited for the team to clear out. Wind rippled the tarp that covered the infield. The stadium lights hummed. These were the short days. Waking up and returning home in darkness. It didn’t seem possible that they’d ever make it to spring.
“Is it because of what I said?” Kate asked. Abby didn’t look at her. “Is it because I didn’t jump at being with you? Because I’m still confused and—”
“No.” Abby’s head shot up. “I always knew that was a possibility. I knew that you and me probably weren’t going to get there.”
“You did?” Kate whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Then why can’t we be friends?” She wanted to ask more. Like why Abby even wanted her then. Why did she let it get so far, if it would never pan out? Of course, that turned the question back on her—why did Kate let it get so far? She settled for the consolation prize of friendship.
“You look at me differently now.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” Abby’s breath materialized in the chill, emphasizing her words. “I don’t want you to look at me like I took something from you. Like I’m the reason you and your parents aren’t talking. Like I’m the reason you stopped going to CAC.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“Because I wait outside that church for you like it’s my own fucked-up religion.” Abby sighed and then laughed, and Kate couldn’t help but chuckle too.
Her heart swelled and simultaneously opened with that desperate hollow. That space she couldn’t get around. “Why do you care if I go? You call it a cult.”
“Because it means something to you. You believe in it.” Sheshrugged. “I can’t be the reason you stop. I can’t be the reason that you’re unhappy.”
“You’re not.” Kate’s eyes burned with tears. “I just…this isn’t easy. And I can’t…I can’t lose you too.”
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid. We just need some time. Some space for this to pass. And it will.” She stood and canted her head at the diamond. “Plus, we still have this.”
Kate frowned. “Yeah, but no more turning two.”
“I’ll still be next to you.” She lifted the faintest of smiles. “See you tomorrow.”
Kate murmured goodbye as Abby clomped down the bleachers and left. Out of all the losses that brutal, chilling winter—Blake, her parents, confidence in her faith, confidence in herself—this left her raw. When she turned away from the rest, at least she still had Abby. Even if she wouldn’t let herself have all of her, she felt like hers. It made the rest of the hardship pointless if she wasn’t.
She sniffled and trudged home, spiritually broken, no longer sure what she believed or where to turn. And that’s when it happened. That’s when the clouds parted.
That’s when she got into Berkeley.
Kate checked the mail daily, investing her remaining energy into law school. Her hands trembled when she pulled out the envelope with the school seal in the corner. She whispered a prayer and ripped it open in the driveway, devouring the first lines through tears.
The news couldn’t have come at a better time. Her hope for the present had worn thin, but this restored her hope in the future. In a dream that was hers alone. She didn’t need her parents’ approval. She didn’t need Blake. She didn’t need everyone to understand.
But she needed Abby.
Kate dropped her bag in the driveway and bolted down the street, clutching the letter. She didn’t know if Abby was at her apartment but would start there. She’d go to the field, the library, and check every bar in town if she had to. Because she needed to tell her first.
Before reaching Abby’s complex, footsteps echoed down the road,charging toward her. She made out a shadow in the distance, growing larger with every step.
“Kate?” Abby shouted.
“Abby?”
She sprinted faster until they met in the middle of the street, panting under a single streetlight.
“What are you doing?” Kate breathed into the frost.
