A few poems spring to mind, all about making choices, none of them helpful. He knows which path will make him happiestright now, but who knows how he will feel in seven years. Still, the old James would gawk at where he’s standing now. The decision before him, so far beyond simply adding another major. Return to hell, or to keep flying with Nelle?
Fingers trembling like twigs in a rainstorm, James logs in to his account and withdraws from all his classes. He sends the school an email informing them that he will be dropping out for a semester, but that he hopes to join them in the spring. It’s a lie, something to soften the blow. He will never go back.
He logs out and shuts down the computer. For a few minutes, he sits in the quiet darkness of the lobby. How long has he been drowning in the quicksand of school, knowing that his time with Nelle would then end prematurely? Now it’s clear: he doesn’t want to go back to no friends and endless studying. Yes, money will be an issue eventually, but Jessie’s gifted plane tickets bought them at least a few weeks. A month if he’s frugal. And afterward, he envisions a life in New York, working to rent his own place. Maybe a place he can share with a certain ink-bleeding girl.
He goes back to the hotel room, clicks on the lamp, and sits at the edge of the bed. Watching Nelle sleep soothes him. The breath flowing in and out of her parted lips, hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. A subtle reminder that although her origin is unusual, she is real.
Her dahlias, tinged with brown decay, sit on the table beside the king-size bed. James kicks off his shoes and, swearing to start pinching his pennies tomorrow, orders a room-service burger. A sense of calm settles over him. Finally, he feels weightless.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes to pale morning light and an uneaten burger outside the door, he comes back to bed and whispers to Nelle. She doesn’t stir. He rubs her shoulder for a minute or two before she squints angrily at the light.
“Is it morning?” she groans.
“Yes,” he says. “And I have good news.”
She sits up against the headboard, hair frizzy. “Why are you this perky without any coffee?”
“I’m no longer a student,” he says.
Nelle blinks. “You’re no longer ... what?”
“I unenrolled. We can keep traveling, no time restrictions.”
“Jessie’s gonna kill you.”
She’s shaking her head.Why is she shaking her head?
“What about your career?” Nelle asks.
“I told you, I don’twantto be a doctor, and Jessie will be okay. She will understand, especially when I tell her—”
“Your mom? Your dad?”
“They’ll be all right, too. This isn’t about them, it’s about me. It’s about us.”
“Are you sure?” Nelle asks. “You don’t have to drop out. We can go back now. You can go to school next week, and I’ll—”
“It’s already done,” James says. He adds, with real confidence, “I know I made the right decision.”
Nelle’s worried face cracks. “Really? So this means you want to keep traveling the world with me?”
He stands and holds out his hand. “Coffee first, then the world.”
Yet he can’t ignore the sinking in his stomach. Part attraction, part warning. It is the feeling of tumbling through the unknown and having a blast while doing it. But as with all free falls, the landing will be rough. He dreads having to tell Nelle the truth. His money won’t last forever, and at the end of this rainbow, he wants to stay in New York.
Chapter 18
Legs sore from the twelve-hour southbound train, James relishes the walk from Nice’s city center to the Plage de la Réserve. He follows a staircase down to the pebble beach, seawater stinging his nose. Nelle’s white cover-up billows off as she hops over scorching pebbles to the aquamarine shallows.
Without warning, James bolts to the water, Nelle’s laughter trailing him like popping bubbles. He barrels into a wave, spray splashing cold on his chest, salt on his lips. When he turns around, Nelle is gone. He scans the crowded beach for her, but he definitely heard her running after him. His heart races, jumping from thought to thought, bouncing back and forth between the beach and the water. Suddenly, the roiling waves are menacing as they swell and sweep into the ocean. The undercurrent’s fingers curl around his ankles.
He’s about to dive under to search when Nelle shatters the surface wearing a pearly grin. James tries to hide his panic as she grabs on to him, laughing, her hair wet and slicked to her neck.
“I’ve never swam in the ocean before. It’s so ...” Nelle licks her lips. “I knew it was salt water, but I never knew you couldtastethe salt.”
James’s panic eases like the shifting tide.Thisis why he loves traveling with Nelle. Everywhere they go, every experience, is new to her. New car, new road, new city, new food, new views, shiny new seawater. Every time she is awed by something James finds mundane, he steps back and appreciates that thing anew, and in that moment ofdisassociation, he realizes:Yes, itisincredible that you can taste the salt in the ocean. Itisincredible that I am on a beach on the French Riviera with the girl I love.
He freezes, repeating his own thought back to himself while Nelle dolphin-dives in and out of waves.
