Hence the London trip.A crackly announcement overhead draws my attention. The seats around me have emptied out, and people are lining up by the gate.Speaking of which—flight’s about to board.
You’re really just going to drop this bomb on me and then LEAVE!?
Haha. Sorry. I have another two-hour layover in Chicago. I could message then.
YOU’D BETTER!!! Text me immediately upon landing. I mean the MINUTE the wheels hit the tarmac. Don’t wait for the pilot to say it’s okay. Everyone knows that shit about cell phones interfering with planes is made up anyway.
Umm I don’t think that’s true. But I’ll text when I can.
Amazing. Talk soon, babe. Safe flight.
There’s a heavy warmth in my chest as I stare at the screen.
Talk soon,I agree.
28
Too Late
Twenty-six hours later, I arrive at my hotel in London. My last flight was delayed for hours, and I’m so exhausted and jetlagged I can barely see straight. It’s late afternoon in London, so I crash for a few hours on my hotel bed and set my alarm for eight p.m. When I wake up, I feel jittery and anxious, like I’m getting ready to take a test.
I shower and throw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans. Travis’ place is only two tube stops away, and I spend the whole time staring at my reflection in the train windows, ordering myself to calm down. I consider messaging Kelsie again, to distract myself, but I’ve been chatting with her on and off for almost a day now. I don’t want to bother her too much.
Plus, this feels like something I have to do on my own.
My chest is filled with hot, twisty knots as I climb the stairs out of the station and make my way onto the street. Everything about this is familiar. I know all the restaurants around here. I know all the shops. I bought the Christmas present I never gave Travis at that store there on the corner. The guy that owns it makes all these weird sculptures out of wood and metal, but he also makes normalstuff, if you ask him. He made me this custom iPhone case with a tracing of a log cabin. I gave him a picture of the place Travis and I stayed in Harris, and it looked just like that, with the mountains in the background and everything.
It was kind of stupid and cheesy. I don’t know, though. Travis probably would’ve liked it.
God, my heart is beating hard now. Travis’ place is only a block away. The fancy private parking garage he uses is just up ahead. There’s a car turning into it now.
Oh, fuck.
That’shiscar.
It hits me, all of a sudden, how insane this is. It’s been—what? Nine, almost ten months since I saw him? I haven’t given him any warning. I’m just showing up, unannounced, without any idea what I’m going to do or say.
It’s insane, but my feet are still carrying me forward, like I’m being pulled by a magnet. I could go ahead to his house and wait for him to show up there, but I can’t wait. I need to see him again, right now. I think I might even be more excited than scared.
I wonder if he’ll kiss me.
I’m pretty sure he will.
The parking garage has security, obviously, but they haven’t changed the codes since I left, and my fingers move automatically over the keypad, 7161*. The doors click open and then I’m jogging up the staircase to level three, where Travis’ parking spot is.
I’m about to push open the glass door to level three when I spot him.
I lurch backward automatically, cursing under my breath. He isn’t alone. Both car doors are open, and some guy is getting out of the passenger seat. Fuck, fuck,fuck.
It’s probably his manager or trainer. Or it might even be Matty,they’re such good friends now. I sneak another look, really quickly. They’re heading this way, but neither of them sees me. I don’t recognize the guy, but he looks like he could be Travis’ trainer. He’s around our age, and he looks pretty fit. I curse again as I scramble up the stairs. I don’t want to talk to Travis for the first time in months in front of some random stranger. And now what am I going to do, hover outside of Travis’ house until he’s gone? If it’s his new trainer, they might be off to do a workout or something.
I go up one flight of stairs to hide, swearing viciously in my head. The door on level three swings open, and their voices carry through the staircase.
“You said there’s a subway station nearby, yeah?” The guy’s voice is American and pleasant. “Or y’all call it a tube station, don’t you?”
I hear Travis’ laugh, and my chest tightens. Fuck, I missed that laugh.
“Yeah, it’s a few blocks away,” he says. “You want me to walk you?”
