~
The TSA line is as long as my patience is short. Out of sheer luck, another line opens up when we’re close enough to dart for it. Throwing off shoes, belts, liquids, self-respect, and electronics bigger than a phone, I go through the scanner, accept my hair frisk, and fidget while waiting for our suitcases to come through.
“Oh my god,” I groan when the belt reverses for another scan.
“You’re going to make it. Don’t worry.” Liem, my pessimistic fave, shining rare light onto my grim outlook.
The belt comes back, and our suitcases make it out. “Finally!”
With ten minutes left, I pull on my shoes and throw my bag’s strap over my head. I run off but only make it a few steps. My feet won’t go any farther. Not until I do something first.
I go back to Liem and fling myself onto him, my suitcase crashing against his as I pull him tight against me. I linger there for too long, savoring the last touch I’ll ever get of him. I pry myself away, my thumbs brushing over his pretty cheekbones.
“If this really is the last time I’ll see you,” I say, “I’m glad I met you.” Our words from the elevator, the first time we thought we were saying goodbye.
“I’m glad I met you too.”
That feeling hits me again, the gravitational pull I have to him, my Liem, my soul twin, and now the person I have to leave. Before I can think, my lips are on his. He kisses me back, so much hiding behind his lips and the grip of his hands on my back.
Our lips part with regret. He steals another lingering kiss, then pulls away. “Go. Don’t miss your flight.”
I nod and grab my suitcase, my body aching to stay. “Bye, Hoodie.”
He tries hard to hide the sadness behind his grin. “Bye, Bri.”
Before I change my mind again, I turn and run.
Out of breath and out of time, I make it to the gate then scramble down the ramp and onto the plane right before they close the door.
I’m here. It’s over. My little life in New York, my time with Liem. I can’t tell if my chest hurts from the unplanned cardio or the realization that everything in my life is changing yet again.
Pushing my thoughts away, I make it to my seat, pleased to find the row’s overhead compartment still has available space. A smallwin, but a win nonetheless.
When I lift my case, the evergreen sticker on the front makes me freeze.
Oh, shit.
Twenty-one
Liem
Why did I let Bri leave with my suitcase?
I saw the sticker the second she was two steps away. I could have stopped her or caught up to her and switched them back, but I didn’t. She ran to catch her flight, and I . . . watched.
Last night was everything. Thrilling, frightening, life-altering. Sex with Bri changed me.
I haven’t felt this confused since my budding relationship days with Natalie. Those early times when you are still figuring each other out, walking the fence line, looking to see if the grass on the other side is forever-colored or the turf of impending heartbreak.
I couldn’t see over the fence with Bri before—I thought it betternot to glance—but last night, I took a peek. I let her walk away with my suitcase because I can’t bear for this to be our goodbye. I’m unsure how I’d survive going home thinking I might never see her again.
But how often have I done this? Fawn over anyone who pays attention to me or allows me to have any level of intimacy with them. While I don’t understand casual sex, I understand what it means to Bri. I’ve never felt fully accepted by anyone before. She makes it so easy to love her. I’m struggling to understand what kind of love that can be.
Not five minutes later, my phone rings. It’s her.
“Hey.”
“Liem, I grabbed your suitcase instead of mine!”
