Baxter's room was a disaster. Suitcases were half-packed, clothes were strewn everywhere, and you were trying to help pack everything accordingly. Baxter had barely spoken since you arrived. He was too caught up in his head to even think about reciprocating your affections. Flirtatious comments were ignored, hugs weren't returned, and he just froze a little more with each kiss.

"Baxter," you sighed. "What's wrong?"

The question cut through his heart like a rusty knife. What's wrong. What wasn't wrong? He was going back to college with people who didn't know him and didn't care to know him. He was leaving you behind. You, a summer fling that had become so much more in his heart.

"I'm leaving," he muttered, zipping up the last bag.

You smiled and shook your head. "Well, yeah. But we can still call and stuff every day."

"No. Don't you get it? I'm leaving. I'll be on the other side of the country. I won't be here to get drinks, kiss you, go out on dates. What's the point?"

Baxter couldn't see a long distance relationship working. It's not like he was worth anything more than his parents' name and money. If he wasn't physically there to plan outings or provide his wealth, then what was the point? Baxter didn't have faith that he could remain interesting enough through presence alone over the phone. You'd leave him within a month or two, that was certain.

No, he told himself. It's better this way. Cut things off while they're good and there's no worry about them turning bad.

He would be a pleasant memory for you. A suitor for a summer, that was all Baxter Ward deserved.