I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, saying good-bye to Claire. It was silly, but I had my special ASH LUCY shirt on, and somehow, I felt like it was giving me power. We’d all gotten up early, because it was a three-hour drive to camp, and I had to be there by ten. Dad was driving me and Mom was staying home with Claire. Claire’s dad had called last night, and he was coming a day later than planned, so she’d be there four more days with just Mom and Dad. Mom did a great job of making plans for when I was gone. She had a whole list of things to do that Claire was excited about.
Claire and I were standing outside by the car. Mom and Dad were in the house, so it was just the two of us. I had something special for Claire, something Mom had given me last night. She’d said it was for me and Lucy, so we could remember each other when we looked at it. But now I’d changed my mind. Lucy and I didn’t need a reminder; this last month had proved it—we’d be friends forever. But Claire was different. She needed something.
I smiled and held out my hands—each one a closed fist holding a treasure. “I have something for you.”
Claire held up the envelope from yesterday. She had something for me too. I motioned to my hands.
“Pick one.”
She pointed to the right hand. I opened them both at the same time. Each was holding the same thing—a silver half-circle pendant on a silver chain. I handed one to her, and we put them on together. I felt like I should say something, something important but not cheesy, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think of was Ashley and Shue sitting on the roof, and the full moon from the trampoline. A moment later Claire was hugging me. I hugged her back—it was better than words.
“Now my turn,” she said.
She took a step back and handed me the envelope. Inside was a photo of her smiling behind the counter at the VS Depot.
“So you can remember me,” she said.
It was a great photo; Peter had done a good job. Right on the wall, almost directly over Claire’s head, was a sign. I hadn’t noticed it before. I looked closer; it had something to do with printing—there were strange words printed all over it, but two of them caught my eye. Right there on the first line were the words “Roman Helvetica.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” Claire sounded worried.
I looked up and made myself smile.
“Nothing’s wrong. I love it!”
My brain was a jumble—thoughts spinning and swirling. I tried to put the pieces together. Claire’s story about her mom wasn’t true. She didn’t run off to be with Roman Helvetica; they were just words. Something she’d seen on the wall at the VS Depot. Claire was wounded; she was like Percy—needing a story to soften the truth. And this picture was a message, the last piece, so I could understand everything. And then I had it—clarity—it was like the zap back from time travel. Only it wasn’t painful; instead it was enlightening. It was time to make a promise, another promise to the universe.
Claire was holding my hand now, tighter than ever before. Like she would never let it go. We walked around the car.
“Remember that story I was writing?”
She nodded.
“Well, I’m going to write it for you, and every week, I’m going to send you part of it, in a letter.”
Claire looked up. “Like you did for Lucy?”
I nodded. “Exactly, and maybe I’ll even send you strange things—things from the story.”
We stopped walking.
Claire was watching me, serious. “You never forgot to send them. You did it every second day.”
I nodded. “I never forgot.”
She let go of my hand and bounced up and down. Suddenly she was back to normal, back to being a little kid, and excited like she’d just won something amazing.
But it wasn’t anything amazing, it was only me. It was less than she deserved, but maybe it would help.
After a lot more hugs, and a few kisses, Dad and I were in the car and ready to go. Good-byes were exhausting. I was glad to have three hours to rest, plus we’d stop for a snack—snacks were good. We drove through town, and I watched the familiar and the unfamiliar pass by my window. When we got to the highway, Dad looked back at me.
“Are you okay? Do you want to tell me about your time with Claire?”
I shook my head. I didn’t have the energy. It was too complicated.
Dad tried again. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
I thought for a minute and smiled. “Tell me about the first time you saw Mom, and what she was like in high school.”
Dad laughed. “Well, your mother says she doesn’t remember the first time I saw her, but it was a few years before high school. She was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk crying, and her books were all over the ground. Her hair was everywhere, messy, but I got a peek at her face. She had nice eyes. I helped her pick everything up.” Dad paused. “You’d think a girl would remember something like that, wouldn’t you?” He looked back at me through the rearview mirror.
I nodded, too stunned to speak. While Dad talked, I leaned back, listened, and closed my eyes. If this were a movie, the camera would sweep in for one final shot—a close-up of my face. There wouldn’t be words, but my smile would give away the ending. I was happy.