30. Chapter 30
Lennon
Flying across the entire country is the fucking worst.
Flying on a red-eye across the entire country is fucking hell.
At least it’s quiet, so I try to sleep, but there’s not really any sleeping on an airplane. There’s especially no sleeping on an airplane when your best friend is on the other end of the flight and you’re on your way to tell her you love her.
In between fits of sleep, I stare at the pitch-black nothingness outside the window and think about Lark making this same trip not twenty-four hours ago.
She must have been so scared the whole time.
Scared and sad. I let her down at the first real test of our relationship.
I’m a better man than that. Now I just have to prove it to her.
Noah hit the nail on the head when he said I’ve been searching for something permanent for the better part of my life.
But the most dependable, steadfast thing has always been Lark.
She’s been so permanent, in fact, that I never thought I could ever lose her.
And while I hope the promises we made to always be friends no matter how this works out between us weren’t meaningless, I don’t want that anymore.
I want her in my arms. I want to kiss her every chance I get.
I want to shout out loud how much I love her every day for the rest of my life.
When the plane finally lands as the sun is just peeking over the New York City horizon, I remember what Lark told me the second day she was in LA.
That she’s a sunrise person, and I’m a sunset person.
At the time, I had written it off as one of the funny eccentricities of our friendship.
She wanted to be onstage, and I wanted to be behind the scenes.
She had roots, and I was a traveler. She got married young, and I never settled down.
She woke up with the sun, and I watched it set on my way to the club.
But here I am, contemplating the sunrise on my way to her. And I think I could be a sunrise person, too, if she wanted me to.
She still hasn’t called or texted by the time I’ve turned my phone back on at the airport.
I only have a backpack with essentials, so I go straight to the bathroom and freshen myself up as best I can.
I brush my teeth in the sink, put on some deodorant—which Noah made me promise to do about ten times on the way to LAX—and change into an extra-soft T-shirt. Just in case.
Then, I grab a cup of coffee from the nearest café so I can use it to swallow my pride as I text Richard to find out what hospital Devin is in. I’m beyond grateful that he not only texts me back with the information but he does it without any snark.
I’ll take all the good omens I can get.
And with that, I hail the cab that will take me to the love of my life.