No Migratory Birds in Antarctica

Before I turned fifteen, I lived like a weed. Cold, damp, barely surviving. Then I met Ethan Hayes and Summer Reed. The first home-cooked meal anyone ever made for me was made by Summer. The first dress I ever owned was bought by Summer. The first birthday anyone ever celebrated for me was something Summer planned down to the smallest detail. She would carefully put ointment on the chilblains covering my hands. And she would tell everyone, over and over, that I was her best friend. As for Ethan... He was the one who pulled me away from a group of laughing street punks. He was the one who kicked open a door and rushed me to the hospital when my fever reached 104 degrees. He was the one who broke my drunken stepfather's head open with a single punch, the night the man came at me again. The day he confessed his feelings, his hands were trembling and my heart was pounding so hard that tears filled my eyes. "I swear I'll protect you for the rest of my life." I often thought that in the bleak, gray life I had been given, meeting the two of them was the greatest luck I could ever have asked for. Until my twenty-third birthday. I heard Ethan shouting at Summer. "I can't control what I feel! I fell in love with you. So what? You feel the same way, don't you?" Summer looked into his red, tormented eyes. At last, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. "But... what about Mia?" Hidden around the corner, I smiled bitterly. What else was there to do? They were the two people I loved most in the world. I couldn't bear to make things harder for them. So I called my advisor and said calmly, "Can I apply for that twenty-year Antarctic research program?" Chapter 1 Mia's POV Rain came down in sheets. I didn't move. I only stood across the street, staring through the restaurant's glass wall at the two people who had pulled me out of the wreckage of my childhood. They were holding each other tightly. A beautiful woman, a handsome man, love moving openly between them. They looked perfect together. It was the kind of scene you almost felt guilty interrupting. I had no umbrella, but I stayed on that street corner for a full fifteen minutes. Only when the clock reached seven — the exact time we had agreed to meet — did I wipe the rain from my hair and walk briskly into the private dining room. "Unbelievable. My ride broke down halfway here, and I couldn't get another one. I had to run through the rain. I'm freezing!" Summer Reed immediately pulled off her expensive jacket and wrapped it around my wet hair. "You idiot. Why didn't you call us? We would've come to get you. You just got over a cold!" Ethan Hayes used to be the most attentive person I knew. If I so much as scraped a finger, he would worry himself sick. Tonight, he hesitated for several seconds before coming over. When I was seventeen and my stepfather had thrown me out into a storm, Ethan had pulled my soaked body straight into his arms. Now he stopped several feet away. "I'm sorry, Mia. It's your birthday, and I didn't even come to campus to pick you up. I should've thought ahead. You shouldn't have had to come through this rain." I was shivering, but I laughed as if none of it mattered. "Come on. It's fine. I'm not made of glass." Maybe my careless smile made him feel guilty. At last, he stepped closer, took my freezing hands in his, and breathed warm air over my fingers. Summer, who had been drying my hair, suddenly went still. Something dimmed in her eyes. Ethan noticed. He released my hands almost immediately and put distance between us. Then he turned toward the server. "Could we get a hot ginger tea?" He looked back at me with a smile that was trying too hard to look normal. "Drink something warm. It'll help." I pretended not to notice anything. I dropped into my seat with my usual easy grin. But I could still feel Ethan's burning gaze behind me. It wasn't on me. The ginger tea arrived quickly. Summer cooled it carefully before handing it over. I usually hated how sweet the stuff was. Tonight it tasted bitter. I drank every drop anyway. Then I set down the cup and rubbed my stomach. "I'm starving. Can we eat now?" My birthdays used to be loud. Summer and Ethan would fight over who got to dab frosting on my nose first, claiming it meant I'd have extra luck that year. Then they'd compete over who got the first photo with me. Half the time, I never knew which camera I was supposed to look at. But the final picture was always the three of us together. Ethan with an arm locked around me, looking at me as if I were something rare and precious. Summer pressed against my shoulder, laughing with her eyes squeezed shut. This year was different. The cake was still beautiful. They were still sitting on either side of me. But the air between us had gone thick and heavy, and it clung to everything until it was hard to breathe. Summer ate quietly. Ethan barely seemed aware of what was on his plate. I took a breath and forced some energy into my voice. "Why are you two so quiet? Planning something evil? Don't tell me you're waiting until I look away so you can smash the whole cake in my face." Summer managed a smile. "What are you talking about? You spent the entire afternoon in the library. We figured you were starving, so we wanted you to eat first. "All right. Main event." Chapter 2 Summer opened the cake box and lit the candles. Our three glasses touched with a soft chime. My only best friend and the boy I loved said it together. "Happy birthday, Mia." "Make a wish!" And suddenly, for one foolish second, I heard voices from another birthday. "Baby, I'll be beside you for every birthday for the rest of your life. I swear." "Please. Mia obviously wants me at every birthday, not you. Whether you're there is honestly optional." "Your Highness, be reasonable. I'm her boyfriend. Obviously I'm the one who should be celebrating every birthday with her." "Mia and I are best friends. Best best best friends. The kind even a flood couldn't separate. Of course she wants me there forever." I opened my eyes and blew out the candles. Smoke curled upward, softening their faces. For a moment, I had thought I was eighteen again. I wasn't. This time, there had been no teasing, no fighting over me. They had simply raised their glasses, wished me a happy birthday, and gone quiet. Summer seemed distracted. When she set down her wineglass, her wrist struck the edge of the table. She winced. Ethan shot to his feet. "Are you okay?" The words came too quickly. He realized it at once. So did Summer. Both of them looked at me with the same uneasy expression. I stared at the cake instead. Every year, Summer made my birthday cake herself. This one was no different. On top sat two little girls made of fondant and chocolate, holding hands tightly. It reminded me of the day we met. I was fifteen. My period had started at school, and I had no money for pads. A group of girls noticed the stain on my pants and laughed loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear. Summer had just transferred to our school. She didn't know me. She still took off her uniform jacket, tied it around my waist, grabbed my hand, and glared down every person staring at me. From that day on, she came into my bleak little life like the first warm day after a long winter. I remembered the wish I'd repeated three times in my head and smiled through sudden tears. "Wow. Another year older. Time is brutal. Come on, let's cut the cake." My wish had been simple. May the people I love get everything they want. May they always be happy. As for me... It was okay. Really. It was okay. Seven days after my birthday, I received the acceptance letter for the Antarctic Glacier Research Program. I was studying environmental science, and I had always been fascinated by field research — the idea of discovering something hidden inside ice, climate, or ecosystems. But I had never imagined joining a twenty-year polar research program. This time, I signed without hesitation. My finger hovered over Send. Then I froze. Panic fluttered in my chest. I closed the chat with my advisor and clicked around the desktop without thinking. An old program opened. A heart-shaped background filled the screen, scattered with little silver lights. I stared for a second before I recognized it. Ethan had built the app years ago, back when he was still obsessed with coding. He called it Night Letters. It was basically a private journal for things he wanted to tell me before bed. Only I had access. He used to write something every night. He once told me that when we were old, we'd open it together and read everything from the beginning. All those entries, he said, would form one long poem about how much he had loved me. I smiled as I scrolled through the old posts. "My wish is that my girl and I both crush our college entrance exams and get into the same university." "I can't sleep. You told me you loved me for the first time tonight. You were so embarrassed, and I swear I've never seen anything cuter. I'm going to love you forever." "I miss you so much, but I know you're asleep, so I won't call. Good night, my love. I hope I'm in your dreams too." "That little diner we always went to closed down! Tragic. But don't worry — I learned how to make your favorite chicken and mushroom soup. I can recreate it perfectly." "Mia, you've only been away at training for five days and it feels like five years..." Chapter 3 Scene after scene from the past rose in my mind. My smile grew. Then I clicked to the next page. And the smile disappeared. "I always thought of Summer as Mia's best friend. Honestly, I used to get annoyed because she was always stealing Mia's time from me. But tonight I saw Summer onstage at the dance competition. She was incredible. I felt something strange in my chest. What is wrong with me?" The entry was dated five months ago. I stared at the date. Hadn't Ethan told me the app stopped working two years ago because of a bug? I scrolled down quickly. "The three of us had dinner today. Summer sat across from me, and I kept looking at her without meaning to. She has dimples when she smiles. How did I never notice?" Another entry. "Summer's grandmother died. I went with Mia to comfort her. Watching Summer cry like that, I wanted to hold her so badly." Then: "I can't stop thinking about her. I'm a terrible person." My fingers went cold. I kept scrolling. "Our hands touched today. Summer blushed instantly and couldn't look at me for the longest time. Does that mean her feelings changed too? I know this is wrong, but the thought makes me happy." "I was so stupid. Summer used to criticize everything I did and threaten to destroy me if I ever hurt Mia. But for the past year she hasn't acted like that at all. Sometimes she even avoids me. So that's why." "Mia asked me to drive Summer home. Summer kept refusing and saying she could manage alone. I knew she was trying not to be alone with me, but I followed anyway. She's gotten thinner. She barely spoke, but her breathing was uneven. Mine was too." Then the entry that made something inside me collapse. "Mia kissed me in front of everyone today. Usually she's too shy to do that. I should've been happy. I wasn't. Summer looked hurt. I can't keep doing this. No matter what, I have to tell her how I feel." A dull ache spread through my chest. So that was why he'd stared at Summer during the dance competition, why he'd drifted through dinner afterward, why he had looked so anxious and protective at her grandmother's funeral, why he'd seemed distracted even when we were supposed to be on a date. Every strange moment had an answer now. Ethan had realized his feelings at that dance competition. Summer's had clearly started even earlier. I was the last one to notice. I scrolled farther. The newest entry had been written one hour ago. "Summer and I finally admitted what we feel. Now I know she loves me too. Mia's birthday is over, so I need to end things. I know telling her the truth is going to hurt her badly, but I can't avoid it anymore..." My phone started vibrating. I stared at Ethan's name on the screen. My fingers curled against my palm. Cold sweat slid down my back. And suddenly I understood myself. Why I had left my own birthday dinner early seven days ago, pretending there was something urgent at school. Why I had been avoiding both of them ever since. I was scared. I had seen Ethan at seventeen, standing beneath fireworks with love written all over his face as he confessed to me. How was I supposed to stand in front of that same person and hear him say straight out that he loved Summer now, that we had to break up? But the call had come anyway. Almost as an act of escape, I opened the acceptance document and sent it to Dr. Ward. Don't tell me. Please. Don't make me hear it. I promise I won't stand in your way. If I leave quietly, the two of you can be together without guilt. Isn't that better? My phone kept ringing. I threw myself onto the bed and buried my face beneath the blanket. The ringtone slowly became muffled. The pain in my chest only grew sharper. I had held back my tears for days. At last, they came all at once. Chapter 4 For five full days, I didn't answer Ethan's calls. My paperwork was already complete. Dr. Ward had helped arrange the remaining logistics. In two more days, I could leave exactly the way I wanted to — quietly, without forcing anyone into a conversation none of us wanted. I had underestimated Ethan's determination to have that conversation anyway. Maybe he was desperate to clear the old relationship away so he could finally pursue the love he'd discovered too late. That afternoon, I stepped out of my graduate residence hall and saw him waiting outside. I almost smiled from habit. Tall, handsome, waiting quietly by the door — he looked exactly the way he always had when he came to find me. In the past, he showed up to take me on dates. Or bring food his mother had made. Sometimes he came all the way across the city just to say, "I missed you." Today was different. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, so I gathered myself and walked over. "Hey. What are you doing here?" Concern flashed across his face. "Why are you wearing so little? It's getting cold. You're going to get sick." He reached up and pulled my thin collar closer around my neck. His other arm lifted automatically, as if he were about to draw me into his chest. For one second, I almost believed he was still the boy who loved me without hesitation. The boy who once spent an entire year fighting with his parents because they didn't approve of us. Then reality returned. We had been together for six years. Of course some tenderness had become habit. I was about to step back. Ethan realized first. His raised arm stopped in midair and slowly lowered. Pain stabbed through me anyway. He hesitated. "Why haven't you answered my calls?" I gave him a casual smile. "My phone's been acting up. I've been buried in my thesis and haven't had time to get it fixed." His eyes stayed on my face for several seconds. Then he looked away. "Oh. Okay." Silence stretched between us. Cold wind cut down the corridor behind us. Neither of us spoke. My skin had always reacted badly to cold wind. Soon, angry red patches spread across my face. Only then did Ethan finally say, quietly, "Mia, there's something I have to tell you." His phone rang. I looked up. The ringtone had changed. It used to be a recording of me singing. Now it was Summer's favorite song. A thin smile pulled at my mouth. Maybe Ethan hadn't changed at all. When he loved someone, he remembered everything. Every preference, every tiny detail. "Hello?" A man's voice came faintly through the speaker. "Ethan, where are you? I can't reach Mia. Summer was in a car accident. She refused to call her family because she didn't want Mia worrying, so she's alone at the hospital." It was Danny Keller. He and Summer had grown up on the same street. Ethan's face changed instantly. "How bad is it? Which hospital?" The answer came through clearly enough for me to hear. "Nothing life-threatening. Broken leg. She can't walk." Ethan's brow tightened instead of relaxing. "I understand." He hung up. For a moment, he looked torn. Then he lied to me. "Mia, one of my relatives is sick. It's urgent. I need to go to the hospital. I..." I pretended I hadn't heard the call. I nodded quickly. "Go. Of course." Only then did he notice the red patches across my face. He hesitated, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the medicated cream he had carried for me for years. "Put this on when you get inside, okay?" Then he hurried away. I looked down at the little tube in my palm. It was still warm from his body. Something inside my chest felt as if it were being eaten alive. After this, he wouldn't need to carry medicine for me anymore. He really wouldn't. Chapter 5 I never figured out whether I followed him because I was worried about Summer, or because some self-destructive part of me wanted to see, one last time, what Ethan looked like when he was terrified for another woman. Either way, I went to the hospital. The antiseptic smell hit me as soon as I entered the hallway. Summer's room wasn't hard to find. The door had been left slightly open. Wide enough for me to see everything. Summer lay in the hospital bed with a cast on her right leg. She looked pale and exhausted. Still beautiful. Ethan stood beside her. "Why didn't you tell me?" Summer looked away. "Why would I? You're my best friend's boyfriend. You—" "Summer." His voice broke. "Why are you still saying that? We already admitted what we feel. You know that." "Enough." Summer closed her eyes. "That night was a mistake. Don't hold on to it. I've thought everything through. Mia is the most important friend I've ever had. I won't hurt her, and I won't let you hurt her either." Her voice trembled. "So everything needs to go back to normal. Fix your head. Go back to Mia. We'll pretend none of this happened." The catch in her voice exposed the lie. Ethan's eyes filled immediately. "Summer, don't. Please don't say that." She turned her face away. "I've decided. Go home." His shoulders shook. Then he drew a long breath. "Fine. You just had an accident. We won't talk about this now." He sat beside her. "But I'm staying until you're better. I need to see that you're okay." He lifted a spoonful of broth, blew on it patiently, and held it toward her mouth. Summer ignored him. He moved the spoon to the other side. She turned away again. After several attempts, Summer snapped. She knocked the bowl from his hand. "Ethan, what is wrong with you? I told you to stop following me around. Leave." His hand stayed suspended for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was gentle but immovable. "You don't have to eat." He set the spoon down. "But I should tell you that I dismissed the private caregiver you hired. If you hire another one, I'll stay here and send them away too." Summer stared at him. "Your hand is still hooked to an IV. Your leg's broken. If you won't let me help you and there's no one else here, you'll end up going hungry." He touched the back of his hand to her forehead. Then he adjusted her blanket. After that, he sat down calmly and picked up an apple. He peeled it with slow, careful strokes. I stood in the shadow outside the room. Still as stone. So Ethan could love like this too. Softly, stubbornly, with the kind of devotion that refused to take no for an answer. He really loved her. Summer's eyes grew wet. Her voice softened. "Ethan, you don't have to do this." "I know." He cut the peeled apple into small pieces and placed them on a plate. Then he looked at her. "I know I don't have to. I want to." Their eyes met. For one impossible second, the room stopped being a hospital at all. Whatever passed between them was so tender it hurt to watch. And I finally knew for certain. The boy who used to sing love songs until his voice went hoarse for me, the boy who knew I was insecure and told me he would always love me and I could ask him as many times as I needed to hear it — that boy was gone. I couldn't watch anymore. I turned and walked away quietly. Love changes. You can't order it to stay where it was. I understood that. Two days later, I went to the airport alone. I didn't cry again. Evening air poured through the half-open car window while my past moved through my mind like an old film. One year old: my mother died. My stepfather had inherited her money and, for the sake of appearances, allowed an aunt to take care of me. Three years old: the aunt disappeared without warning. After that, there were long stretches when I didn't get enough food and winters when I had no proper coat. Five years old: my stepfather hit me for the first time because I hadn't brought him alcohol quickly enough. I remember crying until I had no voice left. I spent that night outside in the snow. Eight years old: after intervention from community workers, I finally started school. The other children still excluded me. Some bullied me. I moved through those years like a ghost. Ten years old: a stray dog attacked me. No one came to help. I dragged myself home alone. Fifteen years old: I met Summer. For the first time, color entered my life. She said she had wanted to be kind to me the moment she saw me. No reason. Sixteen years old: Ethan pulled me away from a group of street punks. Running behind him with my hand in his, I thought he looked like a knight protecting a princess. Seventeen years old: I received the first bouquet of roses of my life and my first confession. He was visibly nervous. But his eyes were full of love and certainty. Twenty-three years old: I was leaving for Antarctica. Everything had changed, and there was nothing left worth saying. But Summer and Ethan had once given me an entire spring. And now all I wanted was for them to remain bright. To be happy. So I was willing to leave. I was even grateful there was still something I could do for them. Goodbye, Summer. Goodbye, Ethan. Goodbye for good.