26 Rhys
26
Rhys
It was hard for me to believe I was there too. That I’d decided to change routes and make a stop in London on my way to Australia. But I’d done it. The day before, I was standing by the ocean saying goodbye to the city that had welcomed me for months. And now I was there, in her room, in front of the girl who had wound up in my life for reasons I couldn’t fathom. By chance. Over something stupid.
I took a deep breath when I felt her fingertips rub my cheek. Softly. As if she were scared to dare to touch me. I wanted her to keep doing it. I wanted to grab her wrist and pull her close. I wanted to kiss her. Hard. With lust.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Nothing. Everything. This moment.”
Ginger laughed and pulled her hand back. The bed smelled like her. That entire damned place smelled like her. And all I’d needed was a second to know which side of the room was hers. She stood up with a furrowed brow as she looked in the full-length mirror beside her closet.
“I should clean up a bit…”
“You look good to me.”
“Rhys.”
“When do you need to be home?”
“I told them I’d be there by lunchtime.”
“And then…?”
“I… I’m sorry, I can’t look at you without laughing.”
“Ginger.” I suppressed a smile.
“I’m just nervous! And when I get nervous, I laugh. What made you just come here without warning me? I get it, birthday surprise, but still… I want to hug you, but at the same time, it’s so weird that you’re even here.”
I tried not to show how funny I found the whole thing. How funny I always found her. I stood up, walked over, and rested my hands on her shoulders. I bowed my head to look directly into her eyes.
“Calm down. My flight leaves at nine. So once again, we have less than twenty-four hours ahead of us. Now go shower and get your suitcase, and we’ll go to the train station. You’ll have lunch with your parents, and we’ll spend the afternoon together. In the city. You’ll be my guide this time. That’s only fair.”
“Rhys… I’m so happy!”
“I’m glad.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“I got a hotel room. I’m not as crazy as someone I know.” I dodged the hair clip she threw at me. “Someone whose aim is as bad as her ability to buy a subway ticket.”
I laughed as she cursed to herself, gathering her clean clothes and walking into the bathroom. Then I sighed. I tried not to show it, but I was nervous. Alert. It made me uncomfortable having to hold my breath when I got too close to her and felt that little jolt inside. And all that order: her neat desk, organized even if it was full of colorful junk (pens, notepads, candles, candy). It all defined her so well. And I couldn’t stop imagining her there in that bed, computer open, eating a donut with one hand as she wrote me.
There was a lot I couldn’t stop imagining.
I looked at the sky through the window when the sound of the water in the shower ended. I memorized its color, that gray that surrounded us and that she always complained about in her emails to me.
Ginger came out soon after. I smiled when I saw her.
She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
“I’m ready. Sorry about my appearance. I’m not a miracle worker.”
“You don’t need to be. Where’s your suitcase?”
A minute later, we were leaving in the direction of the train station while she called Kate, letting her know she was leaving early. I tried to memorize that walk, those walls, that small portion of her everyday world that I was finally seeing.