I knew this day had to come, but I'm inadequately prepared for how I feel about it. That's kind of weird, considering how long I've had to think about it.

Justin really should have packed last night but he's been complaining like a typical man that he can't get everything back in the cases. He insists his belongings have tripled in size since he got here, to which I can only roll my eyes. Mike is exactly the same, he's starting to think about England and he insists that his humungous suitcase won't be enough. He's only going for three days; a decent sized gym bag would probably suffice for most of his stuff. Naturally, I have wound up doing most of the work for Justin as I will wind up doing most of the work for Mike. Apparently the feminist movement hasn't covered the packing of luggage.

The weather has calmed back down after the storm, and the weather forecast over the Atlantic is decent so hopefully Justin should have a nice smooth flight home. The cab is booked for the airport this afternoon, he'll hop a short flight over the ocean and then from the mainland he'll catch his long haul flight to the US. He's a little preoccupied, but I'm assuming that he's nervous about his return. From what he says I'm guessing he has to have some uncomfortable conversations when he gets back; it's all very well running off to Europe but you do have to explain yourself when you arrive home. I'm preoccupied myself, wondering precisely how to handle this goodbye.

Packing has helped. It's a nice, methodical, boring chore that lets me clear my brain out. I made Justin deal with his own dirty laundry, folding that up so I could put it in a separate bag, but I've been systematically removing and folding his clothes before arranging them in the suitcase to take as little room as possible. Apart from a few souvenirs he's not taking much more home than he brought with him in the first place, so why he's acting like his stuff has been breeding and giving birth to new stuff he has no room for I'm not sure. A couple of designer labels have caught my eye - I've never heard of William Rast - but mostly I've been just quietly folding and packing and then rearranging when I think I can make it a tighter fit.

"Addy, did I put all my bathroom stuff in that bag?" He asks distractedly.

I humour him by not responding in my 'you're an idiot' tone. "Yes. You already checked twice."

"Right. You can tell I usually don't do my own packing, huh?"

"I'd never have guessed. Mom?"

"Assistant."

My mouth gawps a little bit. "You have an assistant who does that?"

A quick little flush comes to his cheeks, though I have no idea why. Maybe he's just embarrassed; that is really self indulgent. "Yeah."

That's clearly as much as he wants to say on that subject so we fall back into silence while I continue smoothing out shirts (it always helps if you can limit the creases at the other end) and he packs his hand luggage. Meticulously he checks and doubles that he has his wallet, passport, tickets and a few other valuables. There's something about it that almost reminds me of OCD; he checks, re checks, and then a third and final check.

It's probably a good thing that school starts back up again in a few days. I think it'll be easier to get used to him being gone knowing that I won't be left to languish on my own with no company while everyone else is out at work. Amazingly (can you hear my mental sarcasm?) everybody has started warming back up to me now they know he's going. Quite frankly, Dante is the only one I'm not treating a little frostily since Justin said he was cool to him. Mike, still being in favour, has heard the conversations they have when I'm not around and apparently he's pissed all over their stupid whining about Justin. I'm glad to know that my big brother is still sticking up for me and my friends.

Sadly, it appears that my last minute crack at NYC is not to be. The only spot they had left was in Los Angeles and I just didn't want to go there. My name's first on the waiting list for next year though, so it's not a total loss. The guy I spoke to was really apologetic and said they would have had the perfect spot for me but now it was too late to get the work visa ready in time. The only reason LA was still open was because it was covering maternity leave and she still had a few weeks left before she started on it. I'm disappointed, but another year won't hurt I guess. I just might have to put up with a new room mate after all - though I will slit my wrists if it's Antonio.

Okay, that's a little too melodramatic even for me, but I'll still sulk for a week or so.

"Addy, what time did the cab say it'd be here?"

Yes, Justin, the cab said when it would be here because cabs can talk. "The driver said he'll be here for two so you can get to the airport for two forty five. That'll give you time to check in and a little leeway if he hits traffic."

"Cool."

Justin has such a serious expression on his face. His eyebrows are all furrowed and his nose has wrinkled up almost as if in distaste. There's a pout threatening but not quite managing to emerge from his lips. Between tasks he seems to tap his fingers on any and everything. I complimented him on his shirt (it's a pretty baby blue colour that suits him) and he looked at me like I had two heads. I have no idea where his brain is right now but I'm not sure it's on the same planet as the rest of us. How scary are his parents, exactly?

I'm almost curious and concerned enough to ask him for his e-mail address, so I can check up on how it all goes. It doesn't take long for me to dismiss that thought; I adore him but I don't think I need to dwell on our little relationship here. He'll be there, I'll be here. I'm not going there and he's not coming back here. Dragging out the inevitable is pointless and awkward. People go home with all kinds of promises to stay in touch but you're lucky if they manage to keep it up beyond a week or two. These last few weeks with him have been a glorious little bubble of perfection and I don't want to pop it by doing the lingering death thing.

I mean… okay, I've entertained the thought more than I would have with anybody else, he is just that brilliant to be around, but common sense has to win out at the end of the day. I'll be a little sadder than I thought I'd be about it, but there will be no regrets here. We will finish as we started, just some no strings fun together, and I'll look back over this summer in my photo album and laugh about it. There has been much to laugh about, he is such a… what's the American word, is it dork? Well, whatever the Americans like to call it I call it being a muppet, and in the best possible sense Justin Timberlake is an absolute muppet. It's my favourite thing about him.

The sex will be sadly missed though; I'd forgotten how much fun it was getting laid.

***

I feel a little bad about the way I've been today. These were my last few hours with Addy and instead of making them memorable I've been morose and quiet.

The prospect of leaving is harder than I thought it would be. A lot of that is fear of the consequences when I get home, but a lot of it is this place. Adora has been amazing for me. I love it here. It's shown me a side of myself that I never knew existed, and there is no way I can go back to normal food after having all this freshly picked or caught and cooked cuisine over here. I'm healthy, I'm tanned, and I've been really active and had a great chance to relax as well. The air is fresh and smog free, you can see every last star at night, and the sunrises and sets have been mind blowing. The sea and the scenery has been beautiful; I'm going to miss the views. The dark blue of the sea water and the messy wild flowers growing around various palms and cacti, the dogs running everywhere who come bounding over to you, Carlotta with her funny accent and that lady in the store who's always so happy to see my money…

Then there's Addy.

This thing may have been casual and it will be ending that way, but I couldn't deny the fact that I've caught some feelings. Everything I thought about this before still stands, this thing has an expiry date and for a good reason… but in other circumstances I probably could have gone nuts for the girl. Trace always teases me about stuff like this; he says that I'm a co-dependent serial monogamist who'd fall in love at the drop of a dime. Whenever he says that shit, I just ask him whether he got it from Oprah or Doctor Phil. Lord knows only talk show hosts and women's magazines speak in such terms. Whatever Trace would have said about this - or will say about it, I'm not sure how much of this I'll tell him - there is a wistful part of me that wonders what might have been. There's no point doing that and I know it, but I can't really help it. Sometimes I'm just not in charge of what's going on in the back of my brain. I'm not in love, but in time I certainly could have been.

The distant sound of an engine and the crunching of gravel beneath wheels alerts us both to the imminent arrival of my taxi. We've been waiting outside in the sun with my bags. About ten minutes ago I said goodbye to Carlotta, Nina and Dante and headed out here to wait with Addy. We haven't said much of anything; she's just stood here patiently holding my hand. If she's at all upset that I'm going she's hiding it well. Her tanned face is arranged in a perfectly comfortable expression, not even the slightest hint of a frown on her lips. The car just appears at the top of the drive and confirms that it is indeed a taxi and not a local just stopping by.

"Looks like this is it," she says lightly, pulling at the hem of her tank top.

"Yep." That wasn't my most eloquent response ever but I have no idea what to say.

Addy doesn't either. Her gaze hits somewhere at my neck rather than my face, She's still holding my hand, and as she turns to face me properly her other hand kind of lightly claps against my chest.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Her brown eyes hit mine with a strange yet still warm expression.

"You too." My arms reach out to fold her up in a hug for the last time, and when my chin hits the top of her head I can smell that funny mix of salt water, fruit shampoo and floral perfume. In the unlikely event I ever smell anything like that again it'll always remind me of this summer. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. I have no idea who's going to reach that shelf for me now."

A chuckle passes my lips. Both she and Mike are too short for the top shelf in their kitchen, which amuses me since their dad designed the place. I've got a couple of inches on him so I can manage it.

"Good to know I've been useful."

This is so awkward. I have a million things I want to thank her for and say to her. I want to tell her how beautiful I think she is and how much I think she's going to offer the world once she goes travelling. I want to make her promise me that she will and that she won't make some excuse not to go. I want to tell her how great she's been for me this summer and how much of my sanity is now probably owed to her. I won't say it though. The words won't come and there's just too much.

"I hope everything goes okay when you get home." She says weakly, tucking a lock of dark hair back behind her ear and then pulling away. Her hand's still in mine and now that she's reminded me what I'm going back to, I'm almost afraid to let go.

"Addy?" My voice betrays a little of my fear.

"Yeah?"

"I, uhh…" Her hand gives mine a little squeeze and the cab is nearly upon us. "I know we said no strings, but…"

"Don't." She interrupts me with a warning glance.

"No, I wasn't going to say that," I respond, knowing that she thought I was about to drop the L word or beg to stay in touch or promise to come back. "We already agreed that and I haven't changed my mind. I just… I just wanted to say that if things were… you know… different, I would have… well, you know. Under other circumstances I really could have been with you."

"Oh," she says softly, her lips forming a small but perfect circle as she does so. One corner of her mouth tugs up and for the first time today she's betraying a little emotion there. It can only be a second before she answers, but looking at those espresso coloured eyes and trying to guess her response makes it feel like eternity. "Don't dwell on it. We were here and this happened this way for a reason."

Maybe it's presumptuous, but I'm going to take that as reciprocation. It was that half smile thing; clearly she didn't hate me saying it. That's a good sign.

The guy has now pulled right up to us, and she moves to leave. I tug her back, refusing to let go of her hand, but she looks up at me reproachfully and shakes her head. I guess she doesn't want to watch me leave. I can understand that. Still, I drag her back for one more hug and one last kiss. I fold my arms across her back and squeeze tightly, maybe too tightly, and the hairs stand up on my neck as her arms lock around it. Her hand rubs the back of my shoulder reassuringly but it's little comfort. I'm kind of scared of what I'll find when I get home. I'm almost ready to beg her to comeback with me and be my safety net. The last kiss is small but it says it a lot. Her lips linger on mine only for the briefest second before she pulls right back. This time I let her go.

I guess the cab driver's used to this sort of thing, because he doesn't bat an eyelid and just packs my bags quietly into the trunk while I watch Addy walk back into the complex and disappear from view.