One Last Sunrise

Sam and Quinn stared out at the sky, the horizon slowing growing brighter. Their similar heights casting long shadows that blurred together in the sand until they dissolved along with the darkness. Thin clouds started to form in the sky above them. The waves fully visible underneath the rays of sunshine peaking from behind the ocean. The sky quickly melted into a pastel pink then purple. A beautiful bruise in the earth’s atmosphere.

 Quinn could never pay attention long enough to understand how the chemicals in the atmosphere worked to create such beautiful shades of blue, orange, and purple but watching the time pass in front of her gave her chills on even the best of days. The waves crashed rhythmically, filling the comfortable silence between them until Quinn broke it with her uneasy sifting through the sand with her fingers.

“You were moving so much last night; I don’t see how you could have gotten any sleep.” Quinn said.

“I don’t think I did. I’ve been too excited.” Sam said. 

“Excited for all freshman college parties maybe.” Quinn said sarcastically. Sam rolled her eyes. 

“I won’t even have time for parties. I’ll be too busy exploring the mountains and you know, actually going to class, unlike you.” Sam said. 

Quinn had spent more time in the tiny beach shacks that lined the Florida coast than she had in any class throughout high school. No amount of encouragement from Sam could convince her to do her homework or participate in any school clubs. She found more happiness listening to the waves and the stories of the locals who were always more than happy to share. The locals seemed to know more about anything than any teacher as far as Quinn was concerned. She swam in any body of water that looked safe enough for a human to be in and rode around on anything that had at least two wheels attached to it. 

“You’re right. They probably throw really good parties in Boulder though.” Quinn said.

“I’ll have to find out and let you know.” Sam said. 

Quinn turned away from Sam. She felt tears pricking at her eyes. She tried to blink them away as the pit in her stomach began to grow. The longer they sat there, the closer they got to the official start to the day. She had managed to avoid thinking about it despite being surrounded by the boxes in Sam’s room all night. They had spent the previous day sorting through the last bit of her old things, delegating them into a keep and discard pile. She wondered whether she would get a chance to tell Sam how she felt before she left or if she even wanted to anymore. Sam could not count how many times she saw the redness creep into the corners of Quinn’s eyes when she talked about how excited she was to be in Colorado soon or how many times she saw the same glassy look in her own eyes when she excused herself to the bathroom just to stand in front of the mirror long enough to keep from crying out loud.

They had been close for so long that confronting a feeling that might be misguided did not seem worth risking their friendship. Quinn spent the last few weeks questioning if the butterflies that erupted in her stomach were a symptom of the anxiety from barely graduating high school and losing the physical distance from the one person who felt like the more functional extension of herself. Or if the ache that crowned her stomach every time Quinn’s almond eyes looked directly into hers, her dimples visible as she laughed at one of her jokes, was something more than it used to be. 

“Don’t look so sad, Quinn. It’s not like we won’t ever see each other again. I’ll still text you every single day like I do now. Nothing is going to change,” Sam said, playfully leaning her legs against Quinn’s. 

“You can’t promise me anything,” Quinn said. She tried to move her legs away but did not want it to come across as an act of rejection. She felt her muscles stiffen against the softness of her skin.

Quinn refused to meet Sam’s gaze despite feeling the soft brown eyes peering at her from beneath her bangs. Understanding radiated from her but it only made Quinn more upset. Sam had college and her family to look forward to. They had already flown to Colorado, to get the new house settled before Sam met them there. They let her have one last day to herself. Quinn only had the seagulls and the waves to looks forward to every day. 

“I don’t understand where this is coming from. You didn’t say anything the entire day yesterday. You helped me finish packing like everything was fine,” Sam said. 

Sam and Quinn had sat in her bedroom, both cross legged digging out everything from her room. Excited to be out of Florida, she was ready to leave room for new experiences. Looking over at Quinn, Sam could see her studying the notes they exchanged during class, gossiping and talking about things they could no longer remember. Sam kept everything Quinn had given to her. She intended to take every item with her, every scrap of paper and shell they had collected on their beach days. 

“Everything is fine. I just can’t stand seeing you leave,” Quinn said as she pulled her arms up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head on top of her knees and turning toward Sam.

“You knew it was happening. This means a lot to me, Quinn.” 

“More than us apparently.” 

“This has nothing to do with us,” Sam said. “We will always still be us.”

Sam moved closer to Quinn, folding her legs underneath herself and putting her hand on Quinn’s arm. Quinn reluctantly unfurled her body and sat up straight with her legs out in front of her. She grabbed Sam’s hand softly, squeezing it and letting go. 

Quinn remembered the first day she had met Sam. It was the end of summer and they were both around seven. Sam already had a mess of wavy blonde hair, a halo around her sharp features. She was never as tan as Quinn, her skin tone changing with the soccer season. Sam was more like a starfish that lazed on the beach, playing in the sand and greeting everyone who walked by. Quinn with her wide green eyes hid behind a long curtain of bangs, all brown waves that never saturated enough to turn the same blonde, was more a part of the sand and the ocean, always standing in the wake of the sun’s sharp rays. Their fond appreciation for it bonded them together. 

Taking away the momentum Quinn felt she had in the moment, now lost to the breeze. All the words that were beginning to tumble out of her mouth like a runaway train, now halted and seemingly meaningless.

            “I don’t want to lose you just as much as you don’t want to lose me.” Sam said turning back toward Quinn.

            “Then why are you leaving?” Quinn asked. Her voice had leveled. Her tone less accusing and more questioning. 

            “I want to experience more than what I have known my whole life. I’m going to miss you, but I’m not going forever.”

            “What if you find what you couldn’t find here within the mountains and the snow? You’ll never want to come back to the ocean and the awful humidity.”

            “I’ll always come back to the ocean, Quinn. It’s in my blood. No matter where I go this will always still be home to me.”

            Quinn softened. She never had the same desire as Sam did to explore what might be out there. The discontent Sam felt with what was right in front of her was intangible. Quinn could easily spend the rest of her life here without wondering ‘what if’. Seeing the same people every day and taking walks along the beach. Even when she was away from it, she swore she could hear the waves crashing along the rocks in her dreams. Everything she wore smelled like saltwater. Sam said the ocean was in her blood but Quinn herself felt like she was more than that in some way. 

            The sun had fully risen. The golden glow radiated along the expanse of the landscape. Shining brighter than any other star that hung in the sky. 

            “I love you, okay?” Sam said, cupping Quinn’s face in her hands. “Please don’t ever forget that, no matter what.” 

            “I-I think-” Quinn stammered.

            “Don’t say it. Let me figure out college and my life in Colorado before I try to figure out anything else new.” Sam said.

Quinn could only nod, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes again. She tried to focus on the freckles painted across Sam’s face, counting each individual fleck. Her face was so close to hers, nothing different from the nights they had spent sleeping in the same bed, waking up to face each other. Quinn had memorized every part of Sam’s face and for the first time wondered if she had done the same for her.

Sam wrapped her arms around Quinn tightly, squeezing herself against her. Wavy strands of her hair flew into her face, but she ignored it, closing her eyes against the wind blowing into them. Sam would miss the smell of the salty air that she could never seem to get out of her clothes and always smelled on Quinn after a long weekend outside. She had gotten used to calling her every morning to wake her because she slept through every alarm she set. She would miss the still sleepy sound of her voice when they met in the courtyard before class and the trips made down to the beach on the weekends. Sam would miss the groove Quinn left in the routine of her everyday life.

“This is not goodbye forever,” Sam said as she pulled away from her and grabbed her hand one more time, squeezing it, before letting it drop between them. 

“I guess if you don’t come back to see me then I’ll just have to fly all the way to Colorado to bring you back.” Quinn dragged her tattered sleeves across her face, wiping off the tears that streaked her face. 

“See, then even you can see the mountains with me,” Sam said.

“Don’t even try me. You’re coming back.”

Sam let out a small laugh, watching Quinn’s face turn serious. 

“Yes, I am coming back. I promise.” 

The inevitable had finally arrived. Sam could feel the adrenaline rising in her chest. She would have to pull herself away to leave. The pressure of the past few weeks had built up to the moment. She had run through her head the best way to leave. What would be the right words to say? Nothing she could think of seemed to perfectly sum up the way she felt. Even though she would be coming back within a few short months for the holidays, she felt the moment deserved more than just a casual goodbye. Nothing felt right. Maybe it would be best to leave and let the next few weeks show themselves true to her promise. 

With one last hug, Sam slung the backpack she had brought over her back and picked up the bicycle they had ridden on from her house.

“I promise to text you when I get to the airport and again when I land, okay?” Sam said. Quinn’s eyes hung low as she nodded in acceptance.

“I love you.” Sam said, running out of words to stall the inevitable. The word felt different in her mouth. All four letters morphed into multiple indefinable feelings that weighed down the adrenaline already heavy in her chest. It was no longer just a word said alongside goodbye.

“I love you too.” Quinn responded as the longing already began to set in, ignoring the puzzled look on Sam’s face.

Sam nodded, gripping onto the handlebars. Staring into each other’s eyes as if some other worldly force would make this easier. Sam’s body felt glued to the spot, but her mind raced with excitement as the beginning of her new journey was about to start. She was already prepared to share every new thing with Quinn. Being without her to see everything with her in real time would be hard but having her a phone call away would make it easier. When it felt too late to say anything, she let out a sigh and started walking back up the trail to the main road. She did not feel much in the mood to ride the bike back to her house. There would be some time to get ready, but time would go by so fast it would be as if she left as soon as she arrived. 

Quinn silently watched Sam walk back up the beach the way they had come hours before. The pit in her stomach had gone away but evolved into something that left her feeling empty. Sam was still in view, but it already felt like the distance had started to grow between them. She would have to walk back down the road back to her own home alone. A path she had walked down many times before alone, but this time would feel different. 

She decided to stay a little while longer, enjoying the rest of the morning sun before the beach would be occupied by the many families on summer vacation that looked forward to this free time all year long. The tiny beach town would be full of tourists and the people that lived there. Her heart felt heavy but part of her was excited for Sam too. This gave Quinn the chance to figure out who she was by herself. Her and Sam had been tight knit for so long she could barely remember what it had been like to do things alone.

*

Sam arrived in the Denver International Airport tired and hungry. Three hours is not a long time but when you are pressed against the back of an airplane with little leg room and anxiety about flying, it took most of Sam’s remaining energy for the day. The airport felt massive with the white tent like fixtures that decorated the top of the building. She was warned how busy it would be, but she could not clearly imagine the hundreds of people bustling about. She retreated to the bathroom for a moment to get out of the way and figure out where she was going. Normally she had no problem figuring things out for herself but with the emotional goodbye with Quinn still lingering in her mind, all she wanted was to have a few minutes of quiet before she had to figure everything else out. 

            Sam found the gate she needed to go to and saw her parents already waiting for her. They looked tired too. The finality of the move was already starting to hit her. Nothing looked any different here than it had at home, but the shift had already started to form, starting in her head and moving to her stomach. Maybe it was just the altitude squeezing against her ears and the lack of food in her belly, but it felt deeper than that, in a place she could not quite reach. She had already checked her phone a dozen times after texting Quinn, but she hadn’t heard back yet. She kept feeling the phantom buzz in her back pocket, making her heart race before realizing it was nothing. Too afraid to miss anything if she put it on silent. 

            They left the airport behind with all its businesspeople and families traveling for the summer to reach their new home. It was already dark and besides the altitude the air felt different as soon as she got outside. The air wasn’t thick or sticky, clinging to her hair and clothes hours after the sun had dipped far below the horizon. It was harder to breathe, but it felt clearer, crisper. This was something she could easily get used to. But it was almost too quiet. She couldn’t see the mountains too well but there were more stars than she ever remembered being able to see. No clouds to hide them away. 

When they got into the car Quinn looked for the moon. It was just a sliver in the open sky. Everyone was quiet but the low voices on the radio commercials filled the space, almost lulling her to sleep. She stared out the window, looking at the trees as they blurred past them, the moon still hanging high enough to stay in sight. All she could think about was this morning and all the things left unsaid.

The car went over a bridge, a crescent moon reflected in a dark lake like a blurry smile staring back at her. She quickly got out her phone and snapped a picture of it with the night sight. Even with it on, it was hard to see much other than the different textures of darkness in the background. Quinn studied the picture then traced the faint line of the moon in the picture with a pink highlighter in the editing menu to make it look more like the crooked smile that she imagined. She sent it to Quinn.

This reminded me of your smile. She wrote. She wasn’t sure she would hear back from her for the rest of the night, so she set her phone face down on the seat beside her. She smiled back at the reflection until it was out of sight, trying to hold onto this little moment until she could watch the moon hang above another lake with Quinn beside her once again.