Chapter Twenty-Six James
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
James
We’re sitting at the gate, waiting to board our flight. Madison unzipped my backpack a while ago and pulled out the word search puzzle. She’s been glued to it for thirty minutes, brows furrowed, pencil tapping against her bottom lip.
Her bottom lip that I will not stare at.
I take the opportunity to pull out my phone and send a text before I chicken out.
JAMES: Hey
TOMMY: Hey?
JAMES: What’s up.
TOMMY: Are you dying???
JAMES: What the hell? No.
I let out a quiet breath, thumbs hovering. Off to an excellent start.
But Madison said it didn’t need to be anything big—it just needed to be something. If I keep initiating these random check-ins, maybe someday it won’t feel so weird. Maybe it’ll be something we regularly do.
TOMMY: Why are you texting me? It seems like you’re drunk.
JAMES: I’m not drunk. Do you want to hear my dream from last night?
TOMMY: . . .
TOMMY: Okay?
JAMES: I went to pick green beans and there was a Snickers growing on the vine.
TOMMY: Wait. That’s it??
JAMES: It was a short dream.
TOMMY: I’m walking into a meeting now and I hope you know I’ll spend the rest of the day wondering what the hell is wrong with you.
Madison stifles a laugh beside me, failing at pretending she’s still invested in the puzzle. Nosy little spy.
She leans her head on my shoulder, warm and familiar. Something big changed between us during this trip. And I hope it never goes back.
“Nice job,” she says softly. “It’ll get easier.”
I sigh, letting my head tilt toward hers for a beat. “I don’t know if this is gonna work.”
“Maybe not.” She grins up at me. “But I liked the dream. Did you eat the Snickers?”
“Definitely.”
“Oh good.”
Her phone lights up in her lap with a new message, and she holds it up to where we can both read it.
TOMMY: I think James is high???? Also hey:) What are you wearing? JK. Sort of.
I roll my eyes. “You know, I regret trying.”
Madison just bumps her shoulder against mine, still smiling. “No you don’t.”
We’ll see . . .