Chapter 38
AS WE WALK INTO THE airport, the sound of my suitcase wheels rolling across the tile covers up the pounding of my heart. I check the time on my phone. My parents should be getting back home about now, so I put it into airplane mode.
Soon they’ll be hunched over the kitchen island reading my note. I’m sure there will be a text waiting for me when I arrive, telling me that I’m not who they raised and that I should never come home. Or worse, nothing at all. Ever again. But I don’t want to know until I’m there.
“Stevie?” Ryan asks, waving his hand in front of my face until my vision focuses on him. “Did you hear me? I’m this way.” He points over his shoulder to the opposite end of the airport from where we’re headed.
“Oh, okay…”
It surprises me that a lump rises in my throat as I look at him. He’s become a really good friend this summer and I’m going to miss him. I’m so tired of saying goodbye.
“Send me a postcard,” I tell him, trying to keep it light as he gives me a hug.
“Don’t let those Angelenos turn you into one of them,” he says, making me laugh.
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“Oh, you’ll see.” He adjusts the strap on his bag. “See you, Nora. I know you won’t turn into an Angeleno,” he says, giving her a one-armed hug.
“What. Does. That. Mean?” I press, and both of them start laughing at my expense.
“Okay, see you guys,” he says, turning away from us.
“Oh, Ryan! Wait.” I jog a few steps to catch up to him, digging around in my front pocket until I pull out the pocketknife he won me at the fair.
I turn it around in my hand, running my thumb over the wood. Something that will always remind me of the person I was so desperately forcing myself to be. Once I give him this, I’ll finally be free. I’ll be stepping into my new chapter, my new life.
“I want you to have this,” I tell him, dropping it into his hand.
“Oh my God,” he says in a hushed tone, closing his hand around it as quickly as humanly possible. “Probably not the best thing to be waving around at an airport, Stevie.”
Oh, right.
“Well, just put it in your checked bag,” I say.
“You sure?” he asks, holding his fist up to me.
“Yeah, something to remember this place when you’re eating authentic spaghetti and sweeping girls off their feet at the Spanish Steps,” I tell him.
He smiles at that and tucks it into his suitcase.
“Wyatt’s a pretty hard place to forget, but… thanks, Stevie.”
I wave as we go our separate ways, but this time the sadness in my chest feels manageable, because I know this won’t be the last time we see each other.
As Nora and I check our suitcases and head for the TSA line, I wonder why it feels like I’m still holding a weight on my shoulders.
I thought once I got here, I would feel some sort of relief.
I mean… I did it. I’m getting out. I want to go to UCLA.
I want to move to California and find my place in the world.
And most of all, I want to do it with Nora.
I want it more than anything. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
“What’s wrong?” she asks as we’re making our way toward the front of the line.
“Nothing,” I reply, thinking about checking my texts.
“Stevie, we do not have to go.” She takes my hand and turns me to face her. “We can figure something else out. We can even stay in Wyatt if that’s what you want.”
“No. I want to go. I never wanted to stay in Wyatt, even before we met. It’s just…
” I can feel a pressure building in my chest as we move through the line.
“I didn’t know it would feel like this. I’ve wanted out of Wyatt for as long as I can remember, but now that it’s actually happening the way it’s happening… I don’t know… It hurts.”
She steps closer, cupping my cheek in her hand.
“I’m okay,” I tell her, trying to convince myself of it. Trying to convince myself that I’m okay leaving, that I don’t need anything from Wyatt, or anyone. “I’m okay,” I repeat, the weight of my phone screaming at me from my pocket, telling me to check my texts just in case.
But I ignore it.
“Let’s go. I’m ready,” I tell her, grabbing the handle of my duffel bag and closing the space between us and the lady ahead of us as she steps up to the very front of the line.
Nora doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure there’s anything to say. She just steps up beside me, her arm pressing up against mine to let me know she’s here.
“Next,” the TSA agent sitting on the stool at the podium says.
That’s me. I guess this is it.
As I take a step forward, I hear something way off in the distance.
My name.
It’s quiet. Barely even loud enough to be heard. But I do hear it.
“Stevie!” the voice calls out again, this time slightly louder. Closer.
I hold in my breath and close my eyes as I turn, ignoring the TSA agent, who’s growing impatient with me. I wait until I hear my name called a third time before I allow myself to open my eyes…
There on the other side of the river of people flowing past…
Mom and Dad.
I let my breath out in a gasp as they sprint across the tan tile.
“Ma’am, next!” the TSA agent yells, but I don’t even look at her. Instead, I duck under the tape and out of line to meet them, Nora close behind me.
“Stevie!” my dad calls out, his breathing heavy and dragging, his coveralls coated in car oil and gasoline and who knows what else. My mom comes up right behind him as I step up to meet them both, all of us trying to catch our breath.
I don’t know what to say. Even if I did, I’m not sure I could actually get anything out right now.
What are they doing here? Are they just here to stop me?
“Dad?” I croak out, and he immediately pulls me into him hard, almost violently, wrapping his arms around me so tight that I think he might not ever let go. But eventually he does, and as I step back, he holds up a piece of paper. My letter.
“This is…” He keeps his head down as he closes his big hand around my letter, crumpling it into a ball and dropping it onto the floor at our feet.
“I don’t care about this. I love you. I’m sorry if I’ve said things in the past to make you think that I…
that I would ever in a million years not love you.
That I would ever not want to see you again. ”
He still loves me.
When he picks his head up to look at me, tears spill over his cheeks, making gray lines down his face. “Look. I don’t really understand all of this.” He motions between me and Nora. “Okay? I don’t, but… I know I don’t want to lose you. Please. Please don’t leave because of me…”
“Dad, you don’t know what that means to me. But I’m not leaving because of you. I’m leaving because of me. Okay? I just… I know you love this town, but it’ll never accept us. I can’t stay in Wyatt. We can’t.” I look over my shoulder at Nora standing just behind me with our bags.
My mom steps in front of me but keeps her eyes locked on her feet.
“I’m not really sure what to say. I know what I did was…
” She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, steadying her voice.
“With the Church and everyone… I just didn’t want your life to be harder than it’s already going to be…
or maybe that’s just what I told myself to feel less shitty about how I reacted that day.
And then when you didn’t remember, I just thought it was the second chance I’d never get otherwise.
I thought things could go back to the way I so desperately wanted them to be again.
But the truth is I didn’t erase it. I hurt you then and again now, instead of shielding you from hurt like I wanted to, like a mom is supposed to.
” She finally meets my eyes. “I know I don’t deserve it, but…
if you could ever forgive me, Stevie, I—I…
” She breaks down in silent tears and I pull her into my chest, the two of us clutching each other.
“I forgive you. Of course I forgive you,” I tell her, and I can feel her shoulders relax around me.
“Thank you,” she whispers, pulling my head down into her sweater now.
“I want you to know if I could go back… I would tell you that it’s okay.
I would tell you that I love you, that I will always love you no matter who you fall in love with, and no matter what the Church or anyone else says.
That I’ll be there for you when it gets hard, not that you should avoid the hard times.
I would tell you that I’m so happy you found someone to share yourself with, and I’d really want to spend time with her so I could see all the things that you see in her. ”
“Hi, sweetie,” I hear her whisper over my shoulder to Nora, and my heart swells as I sob into her chest.
She steps back and holds me out in front of her, a big smile spread across her face. “And you got into UCLA. Oh my gosh, Stevie, I am so proud of you.”
She’s proud of me.
She takes my face in her hands, holding me so close that I can see my reflection in her pupils. I wait for her to ask me to come back home, to tell me that I don’t need to rush into going.
“Now… You two take care of each other. Call us anytime from anywhere. I don’t care how late it is or what kind of trouble you’re in. You call us. Even if you just forgot something and need us to send it.”
Wait… what?
I lean away from her, squinting in disbelief.
“You’re going to let me go?” I ask.
My dad opens his mouth, but she takes his hand, gives it a squeeze, and throws him a look that says not to test her. And he listens.
“I know what happens if I convince you to stay, and I don’t ever want to lose you the way we almost did,” she says, her voice warbling near the end.
She takes a deep breath and swallows hard.
“So I’ll let you go for now.” She pulls me into her again, squeezing me as tightly as she can. I wrap my arms around her and dig my face into the crook of her neck, taking in the smell of her perfume.
“But it’s not forever. You come back, okay?
Fall break, Thanksgiving, anytime at all.
Just come back. We will always be here waiting for you…
” She steps away and extends her arms past me to the side.
To Nora. “Both of you,” she adds, pulling Nora into a tight hug too, making my heart practically burst.
“Thank you,” Nora says, her voice a little quivery.
“I love you guys,” I tell them, giving my dad another hug.
We all step back, clearing our throats and trying to get our shit together, but no matter how many times I wipe them away, tears continue to leak out of the corners of my eyes.
“We’ll see you,” my dad says to Nora, giving her a closed-mouth nod. He extends his hand to her and Nora shakes it.
“You two better get going or you’re going to miss your flight,” my mom says, sadly, but still with a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, we should go,” I agree, looking between the two of them. “Well, I guess this is it.”
“I guess so,” she says. “Call me when you get in.”
“I will.” My lungs ache as they rip the Band-Aid off for all of us and begin walking toward the exit, my dad putting his arm over my mom’s shoulder and holding her close.
It takes every ounce of strength I have in me to tear my gaze away from them, but as soon as I do, I’m met with Nora’s hazel eyes.
And I’m hit with a surge of all kinds of emotions.
Sorrow for everything I’m leaving behind. For my parents. For mine and Nora’s little secret patch of woods where we fell in love, where we lost each other, and found our way back. For Wyatt and all it once meant—the good and the bad.
Relief that I’m getting out of here, but even more that I can come back. That my parents showed up for me. That I don’t have to leave my life here behind forever in order to move forward.
Hope for our future. For finding out who I want to be at UCLA, and waking up next to Nora every morning and all that we’ll tackle together.
But most of all, I feel love. Real love, knowing that wherever I go, no matter what my brain forgets, I will always have Nora looking right back at me to help me remember.
She smiles, revealing the tiny cute gap between her front teeth, and I have never been more sure of anything in my life.
I love her.
Oh my God, do I love her.
I slide my hands up her arms that I could never in a million years get tired of touching, and onto her neck, my fingers twisting around the tiny ponytail at the back of her head.
I pull her into me, and I kiss her. In public. For the first time ever.
Her lips twist around mine, and for once, I don’t care who sees. I don’t care if my parents turn around or if the TSA agent is looking or if the entire world has stopped to watch.
Because even though I still feel that pinch of shame, I remind myself that one day…
One day I won’t.
Maybe sometimes, there’s a beauty in forgetting.