The rain fell in steady sheets, drumming against the windowpane of the small attic room where seventeen-year-old Kennedy sat cross-legged on her bed. Her heart raced as she folded the map one last time, smoothing the creases with trembling fingers. She had spent hours perfecting it, marking every twist and turn, every landmark that would lead him to her. It was a breadcrumb trail, a silent plea for him to follow her into the unknown. But now, as she tucked the map into an envelope and scrawled his name––Joey––across the front, doubt clawed at her resolve. Would he come? Would he understand why she had to leave? Kennedy glanced at the clock on her bedside table.
Midnight.
The house was quiet, save for the occasional groan of the old wooden floors. Her parents were asleep downstairs, oblivious to the storm brewing inside their daughter. She slipped on her worn sneakers and shrugged into her backpack, heavy with essentials: a few changes of clothes, a flashlight, a water bottle, and enough food to last a week. Her heart ached as she took one last look around her room––the posters on the walls, the books stacked haphazardly on her desk, the stuffed bear she’d had since she was five. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Or at least it had been. With one final deep breath, Kennedy crept down the stairs and out the front door, leaving the envelope on Joey’s porch as she passed by. She didn’t look back.
The first few days were exhilarating. Kennedy felt free for the first time in years, untethered from rules and expectations that had suffocated her at home. She followed the route she had mapped out meticulously in her notebook––a path through wooded trails and quiet backroads that would eventually lead to an abandoned cabin she had discovered during a family hiking trip years ago. The cabin became her refuge. It was small and rundown, with a leaky roof and creaky floorboards, but it was hers. She spent her days exploring the surrounding forest and her nights gazing up at the stars through a hole in the roof. Every morning, she woke up with renewed hope that Joey would find her––that he would show up with that lopsided grin of his and tell her everything would be okay.
But as days turned into a week, hope gave way to uncertainty.
Joey held the envelope in his hands for what felt like hours before finally opening it. He recognized Kennedy’s handwriting immediately––the loopy cursive letters that always made him smile––and his stomach twisted with unease as he unfolded the map inside. He traced the route with his finger, his brow furrowing as he realized where it led. The cabin. He remembered Kennedy mentioning it once, how much she loved its solitude and how she wished she could escape there forever. For a moment, he considered going after her. He imagined finding her there, sitting on the porch with her sketchbook in hand, waiting for him like some kind of fairytale ending. But then he thought about Isabella––the girl who had been occupying more and more of his thoughts lately––and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.
Kennedy had always been intense, always needing more than he felt capable of giving. And now? Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to give anything at all. He folded the map neatly and placed it in his desk drawer, where it stayed untouched. Kennedy sat on the cabin’s rickety porch steps, staring down at the dirt path that wound through the trees like a ribbon unraveling into infinity. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the forest floor and painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It was beautiful––breathtaking even––but all Kennedy could feel was emptiness. She had waited long enough. Her food supply was dwindling, and so was her patience. Joey wasn’t coming; that much was clear now. She had poured her heart into that map, believing it would be enough to bring him to her––to prove that he cared as much as she did. But maybe he didn’t care at all.
The thought stung more than she wanted to admit.
When Kennedy returned home a week after she’d left, it was almost anticlimactic. She expected anger or tears or even relief from her parents––but instead, they greeted her with weary resignation. “Where have you been?” her mother asked quietly as Kennedy stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Just…away,” Kennedy replied vaguely. Her father sighed but said nothing more. They didn’t press her for details or lecture her about responsibility; they simply let her back into their lives as if nothing had happened––and somehow that hurt more than any punishment ever could.
Joey saw Kennedy for the first time since her return while walking through town with Isabella. She looked thinner than before––her cheekbones sharper and dark circles underlining her eyes––but there was still something defiant about the way she carried herself: chin upturned slightly higher than necessary; shoulders squared despite obvious exhaustion. Their eyes met briefly across Bank Street before Kennedy turned away without acknowledgment. Joey felt an uncomfortable knot forming in his chest but quickly pushed it aside as Isabella tugged playfully at his arm. In time life returned to normal––or at least something resembling normal––for both Kennedy & Joey…but neither could shake off lingering shadows left behind by choices made during that fateful week apart.
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