Beep.
SIX YEARS EARLIER
BONNIE
The world isa blur as I exit the plane.
God, it’s fucking bright out. Why is it so bright out?
I pull my hood up and cross my arms over my chest, walking quickly to the cab platform down a few flights of stairs. I make a pitstop in the restroom to pour a few airplane bottles of vodka into my reusable bottle and chug one. I know I’m going to need it where I’m going. All I have is a carry-on bag and my crossbody backpack.
Because I don’t plan on staying long.
The hospital is a twenty minute drive from the airport. I put in my headphones as we travel, second-guessing myself every second that I’m in this cab. I don’t know what to say, or how I’m supposed to act.
What do you say to someone when they’re dying?
DAD
Let me know when you’re close.
I’ll meet you out front.
I haven’t seen him since he came to the parking lot that day.
And the only reason I’m here is because she called.
I sip my drink as I think about the phone call, and how weak she sounded on the phone. I think I hung up on her thirty seconds after I answered because I couldn’t handle hearing her like that.
I text my dad when we’re five minutes from the place, and when the cab pulls up front, he’s waiting on me.
“Hey, kid,” he says when I get out.
He holds his arms out again, and I set my bag on the curb to hug him this time.
“Hey, Dad.”
I’ve missed his hugs.
Emotion creeps behind my nose the longer he hugs me, threatening to give way before I’ve even made it upstairs. I suck in a breath and pull back, giving him a small smile when I do.
Though, I don’t miss the quick, narrowed-brow look he peers at me with.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “Your hair is green.”
I scoff. “Yeah. Did it last week. Do you hate it?”
“No,” he replies as he takes the handle of my carry-on. “No. It looks nice.”
“Liar,” I say because I know he doesn’t like fantasy-colored hair.
He chuckles. “Well, let’s just say I’m not dying my hair green anytime soon.”
I almost smile. “Maybe you should. Green might be your color.”
He leads me into the front doors, and as we get onto the elevator, my stomach begins to twist.
