Chapter 50
Rayne
Lucky Again—Louis Tomlinson
Eight hours earlier
“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” Mae says, rushing alongside me toward the security checkpoint. I don’t have any luggage, and I’ve already checked in online, so I don’t need to go to baggage check. It’s probably closed now anyway. I’m late.
There are people everywhere, and we have to pick our way through the crowd.
“We’ll miss you.” Zoe grabs my hand as we walk. The two of them insisted on taking me to the airport after I told them what I was doing. They’re real friends.
“I’ll miss you too.” All at once I have a lump in my throat. I stop so abruptly that Mae keeps walking for a couple of steps before she realizes that Zoe and I are no longer with her. I hold out my arms to her, and we hug.
“You’d better come back and visit us all the time.” She sounds choked up, and when she lets go of me, there are tears glistening in her eyes. Mine immediately fill with tears too.
“You can visit me too, as often as you want.”
“You can count on it! You won’t get rid of us so easily,” Mae says.
“Definitely not,” Zoe agrees, her brown eyes about to overflow.
“I hope so. I’m so glad I found you—”
“Stop! Don’t do that.” Mae shakes her head frantically. “If you get sentimental now, I’ll start crying and then you’ll have to comfort me, and we’re already late. You have to catch your flight!”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” Zoe says. “You’ll be back anyway. There’s no time for a proper goodbye. You have to tell Easton that you want to make music with him.”
“Yes, it’ll be great. I’m already looking forward to listening to every song you write! Now go.” Mae grabs my free hand and tows me along. We reach the security checkpoint, and now it’s time to say goodbye, at least for now.
“See you Monday,” I say. Easton and the guys are flying back on Sunday anyway; the plane tickets have been booked for a while.
Besides, I still have to talk to Mr. Pearson.
The thought of actually leaving the New England School of Ballet makes my heart ache.
At the same time, I feel excited because now I know it’s the right thing to do.
I’m not a dancer, not the way I should be if I want to continue attending this school. My passion is for the songs in my head that I need to write. The songs I want to write with Easton.
We hug one last time, and then I leave my friends and head for Los Angeles. To Easton. There are things I need to say to him.
* * *
I don’t sleep at all during the flight. Instead, I listen over and over to the songs the guys recorded in the studio. After listening to Easton for hours, I finally arrive in LA.
Home.
I drive to the beach and wait for him. When I see him, I have to smile, and I’m immediately glad I came. He walks around without taking his phone out of his pocket. He guessed that I was coming. He knows me.
But he doesn’t see me at first. Not until I’m right behind him, the sand beneath my feet, the sound of the waves beside us.
“You’re not taking a video,” I say, amused.
Easton stops dead when he hears my voice, then slowly turns toward me. His eyes light up, he smiles, and now I know for sure that I made the right decision. My heart hurts a little less when he smiles at me like that.
The pain won’t go away, I know that. It will always be there.
I will always miss Mom and Dad. It will always hurt to think about how much of my life they’ll miss.
Too much. It’s not fair, but I can’t change it.
All I can do is keep going and remember the good things.
Mom’s smile and Dad’s music. How she danced and he sat on the patio with us and wrote dozens of songs.
They’ll always be with me.
“You’re here,” Easton says, his voice hoarse. He takes a step toward me, reaches out his hand, and I put my hand in his. Our fingers intertwine.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m here.”
“Why?” He pulls me toward him, resting his forehead against mine. His breath brushes my skin, and I close my eyes.
“Because this is where I belong. I want to come home,” I say, and I know he knows what I mean.
He’s my home.
He always has been. Ever since I first heard him sing “Mockingbird.” Ever since I first wrote to him, and he wrote back to me.