Page 5 of Our Little Moments

I grew up in the city, where having powers is a rare gift most do not have, and my curiosity got the best of me.

What’s it like to live in a town where everyone has magic? Where having magic isnormal?

Derek chuckles. “What does that look mean?”

I smile. “It means I have a plan.”

…

As soon as I get back to my apartment, I start packing. Westwood Spring, like several of the small towns around the city, can be reached by a train, which would save me the hours it would take me to drive there.

After about two hours, my suitcase is ready, and this time, when I leave my apartment, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

Derek drives me to the train station, which I’m immensely grateful for considering the late hour, and we don’t say a word as we wait in his car for the train to arrive.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he mutters.

Before I can ask any questions or understand what he means, a familiar car parks next to us.

“You told them?” I ask in disbelief as my parents get out of their vehicle.

“Yeah. I couldn’t just let them wonder where you are and worry about you more than they already do.”

Should I have called my parents to tell them I’m going away for an undetermined amount of time? Yes, I should have.

But they’re always so worried about me.

I get out of the car, muttering, “I’m not mad at you.For now.”

He laughs as I shut the door.

My mom wraps me in a hug before I can even say a word. We’ve seen each other often in the last few years, but it never felt like it feels now. I hug her back, and I hate to admit that I missed this.

As soon as my mom lets me go, my dad swallows me in the tightest hug I’ve ever received. Barely breathing, I laugh, a little teary-eyed, as I hug both of my parents goodbye.

Before I know it, the train’s already pulling in, its brakes screeching as it slows. People start moving, and I realize it’s time to board.

I wipe away my tears as I go to grab my suitcase. “Thanks for coming to say goodbye.”

My dad’s face is etched with so much sadness that I can’t speak anymore. “You thought we’d let you leave without a goodbye?”

I can’t find the words to respond. I walk onto the train, looking back at my best friend and my family.

When the train starts moving, the importance of what I’m doing starts to sink in.

God, whatamI doing? Why am I leaving them?

WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING!?

Panic starts settling in.

I’m not spontaneous. I always have a plan.

You don’t have a plan.

You better get used to it.

Everything is changing.

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