Sawyer
Ihave a bizarre fear that Zelda won’t have gone to the airport, but I go anyway. This morning, when I was lying awake, I decided that even if she canceled all her plans, I need to get the hell out of Greenville and away from the city. Regardless.
But having her nearby would be excellent.
More than excellent. It would be perfect.
I could have another chance.
We could have another chance.
I left early, my aunt riding along with me in my car. We stopped by to see my dad, who enthusiastically endorsed my plan for the second time and told me to get the hell out of his house before I changed my mind.
I’ll figure out what to do about the car once I’ve had a couple days in California to see how things go. Who the hell knows? I might be back in Greenville to pick it up sooner than I imagine. Or I might be back there permanently.
No. Unless Zelda is there, it’s not home.
There was a small hold-up at the security line—some old man who didn’t understand the whole “shoes off” policy—so by the time I got through, I was ready to burst out of my own skin and run through the airport shouting at everyone to get out of my way.
Instead, because I don’t want to get tackled by fifteen TSA agents, I take the moving walkways to get to the gate as fast as possible.
There were only two flights to Stanford, and knowing Zelda, she’ll have picked the early one so she has plenty of time to start setting up her life once the plane touches down.
Doubt turns over and over in my stomach. What if I was wrong? Then I’m going to be sitting here until the late afternoon. I’m sure as hell not going to call my aunt and tell her that things didn’t work out. And if Zelda doesn’t show up by the afternoon—
The closer I get to the gate, the more I slow down.
The last thing I need is for all the people sitting here to think I’m coming after them.
I scan over all the seats, making my way across the gleaming floor, and at the last moment, I catch a glimpse of her hair and I know, I know, it’s her, but before I can say her name, she stands up and whirls around so quickly that she runs into me.
Her face is white with anxiety, but the moment she raises her eyes to mine, her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s like watching the sun rise.
“Hey.” I can’t think of anything else to say, couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I wanted to.
“Sawyer.” She breathes the word like me showing up in this terminal is a miracle, and her eyes go damp with tears. Is this a good sign or a bad one? “What are you doing here?”
“Well…” For all my planning over the last day, I haven’t planned what to say to her. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“So you came to the airport?” Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. “How—”
“I ran into Carly at the grocery store. Your best friend, whose name is Carly.”
She gives me a half grin. “She told you I was going to Stanford?”
“She sure did.”
“She told you what flight I was going on?” The words come out of her mouth, and in the next moment I see the realization cross her face. “You had to have a ticket to get through security.”
“Is that a question?”
“Are you on this flight?” Zelda shifts her weight from side to side, looking up at me, eyes green and shining.
I look back at her, letting myself drown in those beautiful eyes. “If I am, would that be a bad thing?”
Her lips curve down. “I guess it depends.”
“On what?”
“Do you forgive me for walking away from you that night like a total—?”
I raise one hand in the air. “Stop.”
Zelda presses her lips together and waits.
“You did what you had to do, and I don’t blame you, okay?
I’m the reason we were in that situation.
It was totally my fault. You had every right to walk away.
If I was you—” All I want to do is lean forward and kiss her, press my lips against the soft curve of her mouth. “I would have walked away, too.”
Another light comes into her eyes then. “I’m still—” She bites her lip, looking away. “I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want to live thinking they’ll show up at any moment.”
I know what she’s really asking me. She’s really asking me if I’m ever going to go back to that life, ever going to do anything that would call Domino’s attention back to me—and back to her. Back to her family.
I take a risk.
I reach for her hands and I take them in mine, and I look her firmly in the eye.
“I’m never going back to that. Not as long as I live.
Even if you tell me no right now, I’m never going back to that.
I’ll spend my life—” I manage to stop a lump from rising in my throat.
“I’ll spend my life being a normal citizen, waiting for you. ”
She smiles through a new layer of tears. “What, exactly, am I saying no to?”
“For starters, me getting on this flight with you.”
Zelda laughs out loud, and it’s the most gorgeous sound I’ve ever heard. “I was ready to run out of here and see you one last time. I’m not going to turn you away at the gate!”
“Well, there’s more.”
She crinkles her nose. “What more could there be?”
“I might have—gotten myself a job at Stanford.”
Her eyes go so wide she almost looks like a cartoon. “A job? What kind of job?”
“Nothing fancy. Night security at one of the university buildings. I say might, because—”
I don’t get to finish because Zelda throws her arms around my neck and kisses me, hard, her feet rising into the air, her weight against mine, and I forget everything in that kiss, absolutely everything.
The people around us break into spontaneous applause that carries through the rest of the crowd at the gate. I was so focused on her that I didn’t notice anyone watching, didn’t care that anyone was witnessing our reunion.
After a long few moments, she breaks away. “I love you, Sawyer.” She has to say it over the noise of the crowd.
“I love you, too.”
I only put her down when the whooping stops.
The overhead speakers come to life. “Now boarding,” the gate agent’s smooth voice announces.
“Flight 189, direct to San Francisco International Airport.” There’s a hint of laughter in that professional tone.
“Let’s let our love birds board first, shall we? ”
“We don’t have seats together!” Zelda calls out, still in my arms, right where she belongs.
The gate agent puts down her microphone and calls out. “I think we can make that happen.”
I take Zelda’s hand in mine and lead her through the crowd, right up to the counter.
With her by my side, I can make anything happen. Anything at all.