he day I'm supposed to leave for college, it pours. Raindrops pound the patio windows while Lexi serves up pancakes and waffles, her good luck at college breakfast, but I can't bring myself to eat a bite.

I stare through the rain-splattered glass, heart-pounding, expecting Jordan to appear at the door in all his glory, but he doesn't. Every phone call I've made has gone straight to voicemail like his phone isn't even in service; I don't know whether to scream or cry.

"I know you want to wait until the last minute to leave," Dad says over his coffee cup, "but with the weather and traffic, it's best to leave sooner rather than later."

He's right, of course. Getting to the mainland in weather like this is no easy task, but leaving now means admitting to myself that Jordan isn't coming, and the second I do that, this calm facade I've somehow managed to maintain will come crumbling down.

"I know, but not yet," I say. "There's something I need to do first."

Lexi's eyes soften as she takes a seat opposite, reaching out to squeeze my hands. "You staying here isn't going to make him get here any faster."

"I know," I say, "but he doesn't know where on the mainland I'll be. What if–"

"He knows where we live," she points out, "and if he turns up, Dad will tell him where to find you."

"After giving him a piece of my mind for making you worry," Dad adds through a mouthful of pancake.

My heart beats faster as something she said dawns on me. "What do you mean if?"

The pair of them share this look as though this is something they've already discussed behind my back. "I just mean things can change very quickly."

"You think he changed his mind?"

She shrugs in this non committal way that annoys me. "I think it's a possibility. Moving to a new state is a big deal, and it's not something that should be decided in the heat of the moment. Maybe he got home and realized he couldn't do it."

I shake my head, because even though she's just looking out for me, she's wrong. Despite the fact it's only been months, I know Jordan, and I know he wouldn't just leave me like this without saying anything. I turn back to Lexi, who is still regarding me in that motherly way she's perfected over the years. "Even if he changed his mind, he'd have said something. He wouldn't just ghost me."

"Maybe you're right," she says, getting to her feet, "but you can't put your life on hold waiting for him to come back."

Maybe she's right, but Jordan promised he'd be back by the time I went off to college, and I have to believe that he meant it. "Another hour," I say, rising to my feet. "He'll be here, I know he will."

Lexi looks like she wants to argue, but Dad gets to his feet and, eyes tearing up, takes our hands and pulls us into a three-way hug. "I just can't believe that after today, both of my girls will have moved out," he says. "Your mom would be so proud." His voice breaks on proud, and a lump quickly forms in the back of my throat, one that refuses to be swallowed. "She dreamt of this day," he says fondly into my hair. "I wish–" there's a splutter as he becomes overwhelmed by emotion, and then, "–I wish she could be here to see this."

It breaks my heart to see him like this, and I pull back a little, wiping away his tears with my thumb. As excited as I've become about leaving for college, the thought of leaving Dad behind is heartbreaking.

"I don't have to leave if you don't want to be alone," I say. "I could just commute and–"

"You still don't get it," he says, taking my hand. "I'm not sad because I'm going to be lonely. These are happy tears, Evvy. I'm crying because I'm so damn thankful that I was lucky enough to meet your mother and raise two smart, caring, girls. How can I ever be lonely when I have enough happy memories to last me a lifetime?"

Tears prickle my eyes again, refusing to be silenced. I know I'm not there yet, but if my father is right, one day I'll get to that stage where I can think of my mother and remember the good times. Where the tears that fall won't be filled with sorrow but joy, and there is something beautiful in that.

"I just can't imagine not living here," I say, but my voice comes out muffled, my tears now soaking into the cotton of Dad's shirt. "This is my home."

"We're your home," Dad reminds me, "and considering Lexi will be around the corner and I'll be visiting you nonstop, you have nothing to worry about. Instead, you're going to go to college, and for the first time in you're life you're going to live for you and not everyone else. Got it?"

I laugh through the tears and say, "Got it," because somehow he always has the ability to make me feel better, as though it's his superpower.

We break apart, and I glance at my luggage all stacked up by the door, waiting to be loaded into the car. A part of me still can't believe that I've made it to this point after months of dreading it. The old me would have detested change and done everything possible to avoid such a thing, but if there is one thing I've learned, it's that change is guaranteed – it's what you do after that counts.

"I'll be back soon," I say, "I promise," and then I'm flicking up the hood of my jacket and hot-footing it out of the patio doors, over to my bike. Maybe it's a little insane to be running around in this weather, especially when I should be getting ready to leave, but there is one place left that I've yet to say goodbye to, and today seems fitting.

I cycle as fast as I can to the cave, the same place that had offered such solace and pain when my mom first died. Looking back, I know now that the reason I'd been so angry at the sailor in the story for leaving was because it was easier to comprehend than being angry at my mom for dying.

I'm soaked to the bone by the time I get there, but I barely even feel it. I amble over the slippery rocks and into the cove, pausing when I spot her ahead. I suddenly feel crazy for racing to this spot, but out of everywhere on this island, this is the place I'm drawn to most.

Chest tight, I walk up to the mermaid until I'm right in her face, staring into those cold, lifeless eyes. Anger surges through me, a wave of heat that I've been trying to suppress for the sake of my family, but this cove has a way of bringing it out of me. There are some places you go where you just can't pretend, and for me, this is one of them.

My watch ticks by softly, a reminder that time is running out. My things will be in the back of Dad's car by now, the pair of them ready to take me to college, but I can't bring myself to leave. A part of me is still holding out, hoping he'll get to the island in time and see me off to college, even if it is wishful thinking.

Even if it's impossible.

This is what it must have felt like, I realize, for the mermaid awaiting her sailor. This never-ending internal war of whether to stay or go, an uncertainty like no other. A part of me just wishes he'd message and put me out of this misery for good, but either he can't or won't.

"I kind of need to go now," I say finally. My voice echoes around the cove, sounding like the soft, desperate plea of a ghost. "So, if you could just send me some kind of sign that Jordan is okay, I'd really appreciate it. In fact, I'll never complain about anything ever again." But either the sea gods can't hear me or they're choosing to ignore me, because the world stays exactly how it is: uncertain.

I close my eyes now, recalling the conversation I'd had with Jordan the day of the scavenger hunt. It must have been torture, I'd said as I leaned against his chest, waiting on someone like that. I always wonder when it hit her, when the moment was that she finally realized he wasn't coming back.

He'd leaned in closer, mouth to my ear, and whispered, "It's just a story, Evvy."

I just never imagined it would be our story.