As we began walking, Cael and Dylan stood on either side of me like protective sentinels. Checking that I had my carry-on bag, I reached inside and brushed my fingers over the notebook I carried everywhere. I hoped Daddy was right. I hoped that Poppy would be with me on this trip, walking by my side, hand on my back for strength. And I prayed that, no matter what happened on this trip, maybe this would be the time I could open the first page of my notebook and hear from my sister once more.
I just needed to find the courage.
As we passed through security and waited in the airport lounge, I wondered if this trip would be able to help any of us. I supposed we would see. As much as I wanted this to work, I still felt numb inside. And I was sure, as I looked around at the six teens selected, the ones Leo and Mia were trying to save from the permanent black hole of grief, I could feel the clogging sadness leaking from our souls. In each face, I recognized the masks of normalcy we all wore, disguising the person screaming in pain underneath.
I felt an uphill battle awaited.
With a long breath, I sent a silent plea to my sister.
Poppy, please, if you can hear me. Help me. Please, just one last time. Help me get through this.
Help me learn how to live without you.
Help me be okay.
Jet Planes and Rainy Skies
Cael
IDIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT FROM THE OTHER PEOPLE GOING ON THIS trip. Everyone was from different places within the United States, accents varying. We were from a range of backgrounds. But watching everyone wait in the lounge, hardly anyone speaking, it was clear we were all lost in the same stinking cesspit of loss—Mia and Leo seemed to have chosen their six hopeless cases well.
My eyes tracked to the seat opposite me. Savannah. I couldn’t deny that the minute I’d clocked my eyes on her, she had stopped me in my tracks. Surprising, seeing as though I hadn’t remotely noticed anyone that way in a year. She was point blank the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I gripped tightly on to the arms of the chair when my first thought was to tell Cill about her …
I shifted in my seat, that pull in my stomach turning to nausea at the thought of him. I tightened my jaw so much, I felt my teeth ache. What the hell was I doing here?
Reaching for my bag, I went to take out my headphones, but the string that pulled them closed had become tangled. I pulled and pulled at the string, but the more and more I yanked at it, the more it became knotted.
“Argh!” I bit out in frustration, when the string snapped in my hand and ripped the side of my bag. I kicked my bag away from my seat and clutched my hands in my hair, gripping at the strands, just trying to breathe. I gritted my teeth together and tried to force myself to calm down. But it was no good.
My feet shuffled on the ground, legs bouncing in agitation. I couldn’t sit here. Couldn’t just burn in this seat. I reached forward and dragged my bag to me. Then, just as I was about to jump to my feet, to try to shake off this impossible weight around my neck, I lifted my head and immediately caught Savannah smiling at something Jade, one of the other girls, was saying to her. The minute I saw that smile, something inside of me calmed. A wave of peace crashed over me. And for second—a single euphoric free moment—everything stilled. Not numbed.
Never numbed. But seeing that smile … I didn’t understand why it affected me so much. She was just a girl. And it was just a smile. But, for a split second, there was a cease-fire within me.
Lili, the third girl on the trip, leaned over her seat and joined the conversation. Savannah politely smiled as Jade and Lili laughed. Savannah didn’t laugh. Her arms were locked around her waist, and I noticed the sleeves of her shirt pulled down over her palms as if it gave her some kind of comfort, protected her somehow.
I tipped my head to the side as I studied her. I’d never seen anyone have a panic attack before. Never seen something so emotionally disabling come over someone so suddenly. Savannah had blanched, then begun to shake, body jumping as she fought for breath. Her blue eyes had widened with fear, and her lips had paled.
Usually I didn’t feel anything but pissed. Hadn’t in so long. Wasn’t affected by movies, books, or personal stories—no matter how tragic. Hell, even my mom crying daily and my dad trying to comfort her still didn’t break through the impenetrable walls that now encased my heart. But seeing the petite dark blond with wide blue eyes fighting for breath in the middle of JFK was the first time some kind of emotion had snuck in.
For a moment, a brief moment, I had actually felt something.
As if feeling my stare, Savannah took her gaze from the planes taking off outside and turned my way. Red immediately burst onto her cheeks under my attention, and that same pull inside of my chest yanked again. Then Dylan returned from wherever he’d been, and he dropped down beside her. He passed her a bag of chips. The small smile she gave him, this time, made me tense. Savannah … she was stunning. There were no bones about it. She was beautiful, but if it was even possible, she seemed more closed off than me. The quietest of the group by far, and that was saying something. Dylan leaned in and said something to her I couldn’t hear, and she huffed out an amused laugh.
I felt another pull in my heart. And I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to feel again. I had grown used to the fire. Preferred it to those agonizing early days after Cill …
Travis sat down beside me, breaking me from the spiral I was about to go down. I looked over to the redhead, thick, black-framed glasses sitting on a pale face full of freckles. “You want one?” he said and held out a box of Twizzlers.
“No,” I said sharply and looked back to Savannah again. Dylan was still talking to her. She simply replied with nods and kind smiles.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Travis cleared his throat. “So, no hockey this year?” I froze, his question as effective as a bucket of kerosene being thrown over my head. I turned to the boy about my age and felt fire swarm through my veins, hot and potent. It took me a moment to realize that everyone in our group was looking our way. I saw Savannah and Dylan watching us, Lili and Jade beside them, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t talk about hockey,” I replied, even more sharply this time. I glared at Travis, making damn sure he didn’t continue with this line of questioning, but he just nodded like my answer wasn’t laced with a threat to not continue down this road. In fact, he didn’t seem affected by my shitty attitude at all. And he was clearly a hockey fan.
Great. Just what I needed. Someone who knew my past.
Travis took another bite of his Twizzlers and casually said, “I like data.” He pointed at himself. “Math nerd.” He ignored my dark expression. “Sports makes for some of the best data.” He shrugged. “I watched some of your junior hockey games while gathering it. I recognized your face the minute I saw you, and your name, of course.” A flicker of sympathy filled his brown eyes and I saw it—he knew why I was here. If he followed hockey, if he followed my stats, maybe Harvard’s stats too, then he would know.
That was the part I could never escape from now. What happened to Cill … it had been huge news in the sports world. In the hockey world, it was the biggest shock in recent years. The biggest tragedy.
But in my personal world … it was Armageddon.
I jumped up from my seat, cutting him off before he could say anything else. I felt the group’s eyes on me as I did, could feel the same pity directed at me, the same way they had looked toward Savannah earlier. Spotting a coffee shop, I beelined for the long line. My fists were clenched at my side and I fought not to plow my fist through the nearest wall.
An addictive scent of almonds and cherries suddenly swarmed around me. When I turned to look behind me, Savannah was there,
right behind me. Her wide blue eyes were focused on me. She had a blush to her cheeks again. My chest tightened, threatening to feel something, but I pushed it away. I couldn’t deal with feeling anything right now. Not after being reminded of my bro—
“What?” I snapped, my voice laced with venom.
Savannah looked shocked by my attitude. “A-are you okay?” Her nervous, sweet voice sailed into my ears and hit me like a freight train. She was southern. Bible Belt, I’d guess. Her country accent wrapped around the vowels of her question like silk, soft and melodic. The opposite to my harsh Massachusetts brogue which cut like glass.
“What do you care?” I bit out, voice hard. “Just go back to the group and leave me alone.” I turned back to the line, feeling my stomach turn for some inexplicable reason. I didn’t care that I’d snapped at her. I
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.