It's eating me up inside. Why can't I tell him how I feel? My eyes flick to the little specks of black covering my slick, white ceiling. Dim yellow light illuminates my desk filled with colors and papers. My dark brown eyes swell with water. My vision turns into a blur. Everything is a smear. My mind taunts me for letting this affect me. Suddenly, an all too familiar ding fills my head and my room. 

     "I'm sorry. Meet me outside in 10?"

     Should I meet him? My mind spins in a whirlwind at the nature of my thoughts, and before I get another second to think about it, my fingers type a fast message.

     "Of course."

     My bed groans as I get up to shove on my dirty, tattered sneakers. I rush out the door hurriedly, mentally kicking myself at how eager I was. My fingers pull at my doorknob as I swing it open violently to see him. Golden hair shields his tanned face and his blue orbs are like flashlights in the mysterious, dark night. He walks forward slowly, the pebbles crunching under his dark boots. I don't take my eyes off of him for a second. He lifts his hand almost as if to give a handshake, but a second later I am in his arms, pressed against his white tee. I inhale deeply at the scent of new clothes.

     His warm breath runs down my shoulder as he whispers "I'm sorry. Do you wanna go somewhere?"

     What a completely absurd thing to say. Especially since he was leaving me the next day. Moving. Trying to enjoy this moment, I fight back tears as my nose stings. Looking up at the clouds, facing the moon, I look for an answer to his question, but I am always so uncontrollable when it comes to him.

     "Sure," I blurt, ignoring the fact that he was ripping my heart out of my chest slowly, and I would only miss him more.

     He leads me towards his yard off to the left of my small home. 

     "Grab a bike," he demands, opening his garage door. 

     "I don't want you to leave, obviously," I mumble.

     "Just enjoy the night, Layla," he says, and I grab a bike, thinking over what he told me.

     Minutes later, we are out of his garage, out of my small town and into a black night. Wind whipping my body as we both scream into the vast expanse. My hands are toward the sky, trying to push all thoughts out of my mind. I hope that he wouldn't completely leave me, that he'd remember me. I hope that I'd still be worth something to him.

     As if hearing my sad thoughts, he says quietly "I'll still be here for you," and somehow I hear him over the rushing wind. I may be completely crazy, but I believe him.

     We continue rushing farther into the captivating night. Me with him. Him with me.