CHAPTER 1
HOLLYN
The road stretches out before me, and I’m reminded of just how big the states I’ve been traveling through are. This road trip is not for someone who is afraid of a sore ass, that’s for sure. I’ve sat still for longer stretches during this trip than I ever have in my life.
But it’s worth it.
Honestly, the playlists I’ve been cycling through, which were put together in some of the darkest times of my life while looking forward to better days, would make this trip worth it. But it’s the warmth in my chest at keeping the promise I made to one of my best friends that keeps my foot on the gas pedal and my tires on the road.
I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, and keeping a promise is important to me. It should be to everyone, but I’m not naïve enough to believe everyone follows through.
The last thing I’ll ever do is break the promise I made to Hillary. Some people might say that keeping a promise to her doesn’t matter anymore. While it might be true, it matters to me.
Hillary not being here, after finally being taken by the disease she battled for years, is even more of a reason for me to keep my promise to her.
It’s the entire reason I’m on the road right now.
If I had really thought about it, I would have put off starting this road trip until after winter, but it felt like putting it off meant letting her down. That’s something I’ll never do. Fucking never.
I left Seneca Falls almost two weeks ago. We had already put Hillary to rest; it was like I couldn’t stick around in town any longer, not with the promise I made to one of my best friends tapping on my shoulder. There’s no way I’m letting her down; she would find a way to haunt me if I did.
In two weeks, I’ve only made it two states over from Nevada. But the states are big, and I’m determined to do this road trip right, which means taking my time. I don’t want to miss anything.
If I were to try and rush this, instead of going slow and seeing everything on the route Hillary and I mapped out, it wouldn’t be doing her memory any good. I owe her this trip.
It’ll be the first thing I’ve ever finished. Really finished.
On my own, you know?
I’m not talking about the inevitability of high school, finishing that was expected of me. So was going off to college and figuring out what to say about my future. Because my parents weren’t going to accept anything less.
No, they weren’t people who always expected perfection and put a bunch of pressure on me. Their nudges were filled with love, but there were times when it felt like the train I was on existed in a constate state of being on the edge of careening out of control.
Then Hillary called me and let me know she was no longer in remission. I had just graduated and wasn’t sure what came next. Her call sent me back home to Seneca Falls. The third in our trio of besties, Montana Connors, was already there. She never left; home was in her blood in that way. She was tied to the land, roped like the cattle she grew up beside.
Montana’s twin brother Forest has been running the family ranch for about a year now. He’s taken to it, but Montana works right alongside him. Ranching is a part of them.
Just like when Hillary got sick in middle school, I was determined to be there for her the second time around, too. I wasn’t going to let her fight it alone. Montana was there just as much. We did anything and everything we could to keep Hillary going, to keep her fighting.
But the will to win isn’t always enough. It wasn’t this time. Her strength. Her hope. Her light.
It’s gone now and this road trip is the last promise I’ll ever make to my best friend. No matter what, I’m making it happen.
I remember how fiercely she grabbed my hand, her strength surprising me because she had been so weak. So, fucking weak; none of it being her fault. There was fire in her eyes, neither of us really willing to say out loud that she was losing.
“Hollyn,” her voice was raspy, but the steel there had me blinking at her a few times, “I need you to promise me something.”
Tears filled my eyes before I could say a damn thing. “Of course, you know that,” my voice held the weight of everything unsaid, everything that felt too heavy, everything we were cowards in the face of.
Her eyes held mine for a long moment, stretching time and making the moment wrap around my heart with unspoken importance. “You have to go on this road trip,” she cleared her throat and corrected herself, “ourroad trip.”
There were so many times in the years since I had come home to be with her, in the years when we still held out hope and flipped off the statistics, when we almost packed a bag and left. I could work anywhere since building something remote was the only way I could be there for my best friend, the way she needed me.
Being an online assistant, well concierge more often than not, is an interesting job, certainly not the one I thought I’d have after getting my degree in communications. Still, I guess it makes sense. I’m good at finding things online and I’m good at managing schedules and the needs of others. Put it all together and it means I’ve built an array of clients but still had plenty of time to spend with Hillary.
We talked a lot about our road trip, especially on hard days.
That day, when she made me promise to go on the trip—without herwere the words left unspoken between us, she was so insistent. Her eyes were filled with unuttered pleas and there was only one thing I could say to her.
