//Fade

The others don’t know, but I do. I guess I always have. I never told her, though, never felt like anything would happen if I did. Now I want to tell her. But it would be too late—she’s leaving.

For the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been here in her room, watching her pack up, trying to reason with her. Asking her to stay, for us. For our sake. “What about Claire?” I tell her. “She’s practically your sister. She needs you. The junkie’s gonna go mad without you.” I stand from the bed. “And Jimmy? And Lexie? And Sarah and Nick?”

And me. Most of all, me.

She zips up the last of her bags; slings the smallest one over her shoulder. “They’re my friends, Max. They’ll always be. They’ll get by, eventually.” She says quietly, and then turns to me. “So will you.”

It hits me then, suddenly. Painfully. She knows.

“Will I,” I mutter, looking down.

She approaches me close enough that I could catch a whiff of her wild, blond hair—it no longer smells of alcohol or smoke; it smells, I think, like jasmine. I breathe the scent in thrice, trying to make a memory. Then, I felt a kiss on my forehead. “You’re my favorite one, Max.”

I raise my head so that my eyes could meet hers, and I see that they were starting to fill with tears. She smiles, though. “I’ll miss you the most.” She touches my face.

Then she turns away, gathers the rest of her luggage, and heads toward the door.  “Why,” I find myself saying, although I’m not sure which ‘why’ I wanted the answer to—probably still the most important one, the one she hasn’t answered yet. To anyone. Not since she first announced that she was leaving.

She pauses, at the doorway, for a second. In thought. “You find a way to keep it, Max.” She answers.

I don’t move; my feet feel like they’re stuck to her floorboards. I can’t stop her. “Keep what?” I ask.

She gives me a final smile, a goodbye, before she responds.

“Your sanity.”

And then, she was gone.