Page 4 of Liberating Bells
After spending hours looking for a condo, I finally settle on one that is relatively close to downtown Cedar Ridge, and thankfully, they have a few available units. I schedule an appointment to speak with the landlord, ready to make the leap right away.
Our town isn’t huge, but we still have a significant business district to show for the smaller population. Since I will be starting up my own business soon, I figure it’s a good idea to be close to where all the magic happens.
After that’s settled, I wander back into my bedroom and poke around in the closet, feeling the need to start purging through some of my old things to get ready to officially move out—again.
On the top shelf of my closet are a few boxes that I haven’t gone through in years. I’m sure they’re filled with old artwork from elementary school or trophies from my glory days on the soccer team at Bennett. As I’m lifting one down, I don’t see the stacks of books piled on top, and they all come crashing down as soon as I tilt the box just slightly.
I swear and duck out of the way so they don’t whack me in the head. Once the dust has settled, I look around at the carnage, trying to figure out what exactly just dive-bombed me.
My heart gets stuck in my throat when I see a familiar group photo staring up at me from the open yearbook. Of course, out of all the pages that it could have fallen open to, it had to be the one from Camp Wildwood.
A sour feeling settles in my stomach as I crouch down to get a better look. The yearbook is from my junior year, the group photo from our last day at Camp Wildwood for the summer. The guys from Bennett are intermingled with the girls from our sister school, Hawthorne Academy.
My attention instantly goes to where I’m standing in relation to the beautiful girl with the striking blue eyes who seems to haunt every waking thought. I’m standing off to one side with my best friend, andsheis on the opposite end of the photo.
My heart pangs at the sight of Izabel from all those years ago. It’s hard to think that only a year after that photo was taken, things would have changed for us so drastically. I take in junior Izabel, noting that she isn’t smiling in the picture. Camp Wildwood was her worst time of the year, and much of that had to do with me.
If I could go back, I would never have made those weeks so miserable for her. I wish I could have just bucked up and admitted that she intrigued me. Maybe then we wouldn’t have had to go through everything we did.
But then again, that’s the whole reason we were together.
With a sigh, I give one last glance at that picture, memories of Izabel and my time in that shoddy old cabin running through my mind before snapping the book closed and shoving it back onto the top shelf of my closet.
The past is in the past.
Later that evening,I find myself back in my childhood room. I’m set to move into my new condo next week, and I have a meeting with a landlord about office space tomorrow. A listing popped up right as I checked this afternoon, and I was quick to jump on it. Things are moving right along.
From what it sounds like, I should be able to get into the space this weekend and begin working by Monday. Now, I just need to submit all the paperwork and find an assistant.
Flopping onto my old mattress, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I quickly make an ad online for an assistant for hire, and then roll onto my back, my mind spinning. There is so much to do.
But still, even with the never-ending to-do list, my mind keeps returning to the thought of the girl with the blue eyes. I wonder what she’s doing—I wonderhowshe’s doing.
Every so often, my thoughts get away from me and they spiral out of control. Is she happy? Does she sometimes miss me like I miss her?
Eventually, I rein it in, reminding myself that it’s over.
I could play thewould’ve, could’ve, should’vegame until I’m blue in the face. But it won’t do any good.
I have new ventures to focus on. That needs to be my primary focus.
I’m back to help my mom through this new chapter of her life. I’m back to support Derek and Thalia through it all. I’m back home to start my own business and make a name for myself outside of Bates Industries. I’m back to get my life back on track.
I am not back for her.
3
IZABEL
“What’s the matter with you?”Mark’s harsh tone draws me out of my daydream.
I look over at him from the passenger seat of the car to see his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Blinking a few times to reorient myself, I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“You’re awfully quiet over there.”
I force a small smile, and then look back out the window. I don’t have the heart to fully explain to Mark what’s on my mind. I’m not sure how he would react, and I don’t have the energy to figure it out firsthand.
The last few weeks have been exhausting.
