Because it was crazy freaking stupid, but not in a bad way. I wanted to go so badly I could taste it. That part of me that wasn’t scared of what he would think of me, of what could happen if we didn’t get along in person, wanted to go so badly it made the rest of my brainshutup.
How could I tell Aaron I didn’t usually even get to choose my seat when I flew with my family? Just thinking that made me feel soyoungand—
“Ruby, don’t worry about the money. We can figure it out. I’m not expecting anything from you. I told you the truth when I said you’re my closest friend. You are. I tell you more than I tell anyone else. How the hell could I let anything happen to the one person who’s made me laugh when it was the last thing I wantedtodo?”
My whole world seemedtostop.
And he kept going, oblivious. “If you really don’t want to go, I don’t want to force you or give you a guilt trip. Come because you want to. If not, we’ll make it work some other time. Allright?”
Chapter15
“We are just aboutto begin our descent intoPanamaCity….”
If I hadn’t had so much one-on-one time with heart palpitations when I was younger, I would have thought for sure I’d started having them when the pilot’s voice came overtheair.
Becauseholycrap.
I was here. About to be here. In Panama City. Where Aaron was goingtobe.
I was a chicken. This was my truth. I wasn’t afraid to admit it. It was me. Ruby Marisol Santos was a certified, grade-A chicken. Not even the good kind of chicken that was grass fed and antibiotic-free because I’d been on antibiotics a few months ago. I was the worst kind of freakingchicken.
Thehumankind.
I wasn’t prepared for this. It wasn’t every day, or every month, year, or decade that I stepped out of my comfort zone. Flying solo to vacation with people I’d never physically met wasn’t something I did or even thought about doing. I’d been verging on freaking out for the last twelve hours. I’d sweated, chewed most my fingernails down, sweated some more, panted so hard you’d figure I’d run a mile in heels, and had my heart racing so fast I could never tell anyone that knew me, otherwise they would send me to acardiologist.
Yet here I was. Trying my best to not be what came so naturally to me: achickenshit.
After spending an entire lifetime trying to tell myself I wasn’t scared of things while also actively avoiding those things that might terrify me, I usually didn’t find myself in situations that had me wondering what in the world I’d been thinking, because I wouldn’t put myself into that position. That just wasn’t what I did, and itshamedme.
But someone I trusted had told me I needed to live my life to the fullest. I wasn’t brave or ballsy like a lot of people who went after the things they wanted all the time. Maybe because there wasn’t a whole lot I wanted, but I wasn’t sure. Quitting my job and coming here were the two bravest things I had ever done in my life, hands down. I’d tried being that resilient, go-getter type person once, and only once, and it had backfired on me like no one’s business. But, I’d watched my little sister fall enough times and watched her get right back up to know that you needed to do that, every single time. You needed to pick yourself right back up, even if you were bruised and hurt and just wanted to lie on the ground and stay there forever because it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thoughtit’dbe.
Or because you were scared of falling again as you tried to pick yourselfbackup.
Not that I knew from experience oranything.
Which was why and how I found myself stuck in the middle seat of an airplane, smashed between one stranger trying to hog my armrest and another stranger using my shoulder as a pillow. Not surprisingly, when you try to buy a ticket the day before you want to leave somewhere, you aren’t exactly going to find a nonstop flight at a decent price, much less score a window seat. But I’d been okay with that. All that had mattered was that I was onmyway.
Nonstop from Houston to Panama City Beach,Florida.
I still couldn’t believe I was about to touch down, and my family definitely hadn’t been able to believe what I was doingeither.
Yesterday, my mom and Jasmine had both taken turns yellingatme.
What is wrong with you? You’re already leavingnextweek!
Have you lost your fucking mind,Squirt?
“You’ve never done crazy stuff,” my mom had argued, not knowing that those words alone had backfired on her so much. It only egged me on to insist on doing what I wanted to do. And thatwasgo.
“I’m going to” and “No” hadn’t been the right thing to answer back with because that was when they’d started yelling over each other for half an hour, give or take. At that point, I did the exact same thing I had done hours later when the older man sitting beside me in the plane had slumped over midsnore and rested his head on my shoulder: I had let it happen. Except, I had let my little sister and mom yell all the reasons Ishouldn’tgo.
What if something happens?My little sister had asked, one hand flailing around her face while her other hand held a chocolate chip cookie clutched in it. I didn’t need to answer because my mom had rattled off a dozen things that could happen, including but not limited to me getting kidnapped, sold into slavery, and being used adrugmule.
But I managed to keep my mouth closed and let them keep going and venting andturningred.
Until finally, I said as calmly as possible, loving them so much even though they blew my mind, “I get that you’re worried… but I’mgoing.”
It had set them off all over again, but after a few minutes, I turned around and walked out on them for the first time in my life instead of breaking down and agreeing that going across the gulf was freakinginsane.
