38
Careers
“No! You can’t!” Sketch was the first to react, and Rush was afraid the kid might blurt something out to give away their escapade of the night before. But even shocked and upset, Sketch wasn’t stupid. He just stared at Rush with a look that managed to convey pain and anger and betrayal all at once.
“I am afraid he must,” Ammu said quietly, “but I need you all to understand that this was not an easy choice for him to make, and that it means nothing about his feelings toward any of you.”
“Sure it doesn’t,” Sam said bitterly.
When Ammu had ushered them all into the classroom, Mackenzie had known something was wrong, but she could not have imagined Rush was leaving. He stood next to Ammu in front of the whiteboard, where Mackenzie just stared at him, her face betraying nothing. She was as hurt as the rest, but she wasn’t about to show it. If she could say goodbye to her father on one mission after another, she could say goodbye to Rush.
“It doesn’t,” Rush said adamantly. “I don’t want to leave. But they said I had to pick between this and the invitational. I didn’t really have a choice.”
“You had a choice,” Sam spat back. “You just chose not to stay here.”
“It’s not that simple,” Mackenzie said quietly.
“No, it is not,” Ammu confirmed. “Our friend has a rare chance to pursue his dream of a gaming career, and he might never have such an opportunity again. Our sorrow, of course, is genuine, and it is natural to react to that pain. But what we must try to do—what we must always try to do—is to see his pain, not just our own. He was faced with a difficult choice—bound to incur sadness, no matter what he decided.”
“And he had to do what would make him less sad,” Kaitlyn offered.
“Not necessarily,” Ammu said, shaking his head. “Rush? Would you say that leaving the program is making you less sad than staying would?”
“No,” Rush agreed, seeing where Ammu was leading him. “I’d be much happier to stay.” He said this directly to Sketch, begging him to understand.
“Then why not just stay?” Sketch demanded.
Because this might be my only chance to get out from under my father’s shadow, Rush thought to himself. Because when this summer is over, if I don’t have my gaming career in place, I’m going to have to go back home and apply to colleges and intern at some huge, boring company and turn into my father, just like my brother did, and I’ll do anything I have to do to avoid that, no matter how much it hurts, even leaving the best real life friends I’ve ever had. But he didn’t know how to say any of that. Instead, he just stared at the floor, silently hoping they wouldn’t hate him for leaving.
“It’s OK,” Mackenzie said finally. “I’ve always wanted to serve my country. If they told me I had to choose today, now or never, I’d leave, too, even though I wouldn’t want to.”
“Thanks,” Rush said, his voice almost a whisper. He was so grateful for her forgiveness that he was afraid he might break down a little if he looked her in the eye, but he did it anyway because it felt like the right thing to do. The smile he got in return felt like a lifeline in the midst of a raging sea.
“I’m sorry, Rush,” Kaitlyn said. “I wasn’t thinking about it that way. If I had to choose between fixing things for a living or staying here… well, I’m not sure which one I’d pick, to be honest, but I know it wouldn’t be an easy decision.”
Rush just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Tick-Tock and Sketch still looked mad, but at least Grid and Gears seemed to understand.
What if we can’t summon anything without you? Sam wanted to ask, but of course she couldn’t. This was the most amazing thing she had ever been a part of—the first thing in her life that had ever really mattered. For all she knew, he was about to ruin it for all of them, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
“Fine,” she said icily. “Do whatever you want. I’m going back to breakfast. Some of us have work to do today.”
When Sam stood up, Sketch did, too. “I’d never pick a job over you,” he said, and his words felt like a knife in Rush’s heart as Sketch followed Sam out the door.
“He’ll understand when he’s older,” Mackenzie said, repeating what she had heard her mother say countless times about her youngest sister—every time she started sulking because their father was leaving again. “He’s too young to have career goals.”
She grinned when she said it, and Rush managed to smile a little too. Then she surprised him by hugging him goodbye.
“Take care of yourself,” she said. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be OK.”
“Thanks, Grid,” he said, feeling grateful all over again.
“Knock ’em dead,” Kaitlyn said, saying goodbye to him next. She hugged him, too, and when she pulled away, she winked at him cheerfully, her smile as bright as ever. Rush knew in that moment that he would remember her that way forever, smiling like the summer sunshine, and he suddenly understood everything Daniel saw in her.
“Take care of her,” Rush said as Daniel got up in turn and hugged him awkwardly, clapping him on the back. “And look out for Sketch, too, OK? Maybe watch some TV with him at night or something? He’s not used to being alone.”
“I’ll look out for him,” Daniel promised. “I have a little brother at home. We’ll hang out. Trust me. He’ll be sick of me before it’s over.”
Rush laughed a little. But the laugh threatened to stick in his throat, so he stopped before he gave himself away.
“Thanks,” was all he managed to say, and Daniel nodded.
“God, I still have to pack my stuff!” he exclaimed suddenly, but Ammu shook his head in reply.
“I signaled Christina when we came in,” Ammu explained. “It has been taken care of. Your bags will already be on the bus by now.”
“Oh. Wow. I guess this is really it, huh?”
“I did not mean to take you by surprise,” Ammu said gently. “We felt that a long goodbye would only distract the group further from the work that lies ahead.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Rush looked around at his three friends who were still there. Grid nodded at him, and Kaitlyn smiled warmly, holding Daniel’s hand.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he said. He hugged them each one more time for good measure and then walked out of the classroom with Ammu trailing behind him. As promised, the bus was waiting in the driveway, and Ammu walked him up to its door.
“It has been an honor to know you, Ashton Hunt,” Ammu said. “May peace be with you all your days.”
“You too, Ammu,” Rush said.
He hesitated on the bus steps, looking back at the lodge, but no small, familiar face appeared at the door. After a long moment, he sighed and stepped up into the aisle, taking a seat by the window as the driver slowly pulled away.
He watched the lodge all the way down the long driveway, ready to stop the bus with a shout, but no one came running out to give him a last-minute hug, or to offer him a final smile of forgiveness. All he saw was Ammu, the lone sentinel, who stood waving a silent goodbye until the bus finally turned the corner, and he passed out of view behind the trees.