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Evan
Resting my head against the cool glass of the airplane window, I yawn as the airport staff scurries below going about their daily routines. They’re completely oblivious to how much has changed in the world. The universe is different. I’m different.
I can still feel Jordan’s arms around me as I told him my entire life story. Everything I can remember, and he especially thought the story of James and the boob grab was hilarious. I can still smell his spicy scent as I tucked into his neck while he in turn told me everything about himself and his family—growing up in Philly, switching schools as his dad went to prison, about not remembering his mom. He told me a lot about Annie, except the details I didn’t want to know.
We talked (and kissed) until Nat woke up. He took me for breakfast after Nat insisted we drop her off at the hotel so she could get my bags for me. Thanks to my best friend, who is in her own pain, I got an extra hour with him and breakfast delivery.
(Side note: I plan on spending the whole plane ride home planning how I’m going to make it up to her and help her get over Aaron.)
Jordan didn’t want to do goodbye so we fake-broke-up in front of airport security and laughed the whole time. I let him break up with me. Told him to break my heart, which made me think of the hotel when Nat said it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be broken hearted over Jordan. She's right. It sucked, but I smiled the whole way through.
He gave me a small grin, with hands shoved in his pockets. Before turning and walking away he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and whispered, “I wish you the universe, Evan Jordans.” The breath from those words still lingers on my skin.
Nat nudges my arm from her spot next to me on the plane. “You’re doing it again. Stop glowing and call your dad. I told him you’d call before we took off.”
I stick out my tongue and slide my phone from my purse.
The phone rings softly in my ear until there’s a click and a quick, “Hello?”
“Hey, Dad.” I shift the phone.
“Hey, Sweetie,” Dad says, his voice picking up an octave or two. “How are you? How was your night? I called the hotel this morning about your medication, but Nat answered.” I glance over at my best friend who grins a self-satisfied grin. She’s a genius for thinking to go to the hotel first thing.
It’s strange talking to Dad after everything that happened. His voice doesn’t sound different, but the way I hear him is different. The way my heart squeezes a little tighter than it usually does. The way his words travel lightly over my conscience (which is weird because I should feel really guilty right now) is different.
“I’m good,” I reply. “Just tired.” My face flushes deeply as Nat snickers next to me. I feel Mom’s scowl from across the aisle. She’s still a thousand degrees of angry and part of me doesn’t blame her. I’ll have to make it up to her, too. I really don’t want to hate her anymore. I want to let go, and I think I can. Someday. Especially after talking about it with Jordan and reliving the whole mess again.
There’s a beep sound, indicating I received a text, and my whole body flutters.
“I’m on the plane now, Dad. I’ll see you in a few hours, kay?”
“Okay, Evan. Have a safe trip.” Dad’s words are slower, and there’s something floating under the murky surface of his tone. It’s almost as if he senses something different. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
It’s silent for a few seconds. Dad never says goodbye because it’s too official—the same reason why I never tell him how I feel. I need to let it go. Because the faster I fall, the faster I’ll land, and if I can count on anyone to catch me, it’s Dad. While I am busy pushing everything and everyone out of my life, Dad has always been unmovable. Right next me. Unwavering in his love.
“Dad?” I say, my voice shaking.
“Yes?”
I take a deep breath. “I love you.”
There’s a sharp inhale and more silence.
“Dad?” I knew he’d make a big deal about it. Get all upset and blubbery. But I’m shocked when he laughs. It’s a sound of relief, so loud and so happy that it would stump even Jordan. It’s a sound that has no word.
“I love you, too, Evan. So much.”
I hang up the phone and rest my head back against the seat.
Beep. My phone sounds again and a stewardess shoots a stern glare at me. No phones on the airplane.
I flip over the device, and pure happiness immediately spreads through my entire being.
Two messages. A photo and a text.
The photo is of him with his arm in front of his face, showing the Cassiopeia constellation I drew.
I look at the picture until the stewardess actually comes over to tell me to shut off my phone. Quickly I check the second message (also from Jordan) and close my eyes before I reply and power down my phone.
Nat gives me a wink that says she saw the message. She links her arm through mine, patting my hand. I notice the fingers on her left hand are bare, and all that’s left of Aaron is a small tan line from where the little promise ring once called home. It’s going to hit her hard when we get home, but selfishly I’m happy she stood up to him. I’m happy she’s not settling. I’m happy I get my best friend all to myself for the summer. That tan line on her finger will fade, those promises will be replaced by new ones. The lines Aaron made on her heart (like the ones Annie made on Jordan’s), won’t go away, but hopefully they can fade so that only people who know the truth of her heart could possibly know they were there.
“You look tired, kiddo,” Robbie says as Mom still scowls. “You girls had a late one last night?”
Nat and I laugh, which makes my meathead future step-father confused.
“You could say that.” Nat elbows me, and Robbie frowns even deeper.
“Well, I hope it was worth it.” Robbie’s earnest expression tells me he has no idea we snuck out.
“It was, Robbie.”
It totally was.