Chapter 25 Heaven
Heaven
The next couple days go by pretty fast. Saylor’s been over my house every day.
We’re in no hurry to hit bingo before we even make it into July, but since we had all the tie-dye stuff, we figured we could use it.
We had a shockingly good time. Especially after I got Saylor’s cast all wrapped up with a garbage bag.
We dyed a couple shirts for ourselves and for our parents.
Saylor reluctantly made shirts for her sisters, but she figured it would be a nice gift for them when they come back from camp.
We’ve kissed three more times, and we’ve been hugging and cuddling a lot, which is absolutely fine by me.
We haven’t talked any more about us, but I’m also fine with that.
I have no clue what to say, and it feels like if one of us actually brings it up, a witch will appear and tell us how we’ve broken the rules of keeping it cool in your first relationship and we’ll both be banished to the land of no smooches.
Okay, maybe I need to give my imagination a break.
Really, I’m just scared if I say something, it’ll ruin this kind of lightning magic between us, so I’m just seeing how this goes and praying Saylor wants to keep kissing.
And I’m in a pretty good place until Saylor drops a bomb on me.
She’s leaving for Santa Barbara tomorrow.
It’s only for a week, so they can spend Fourth of July with her mom’s sister.
Still, we’ve been spending so much time together, it’s gonna suck not seeing her for that many days.
We’re FaceTiming now, though, stealing some time before she has to finish packing. I never thought I’d be one of those girls hiding in their covers, talking with their crush on the phone, but here we are.
“Your cheek looks better,” I say. “I noticed earlier, but I forgot to tell you. How does it feel?”
“Good. It’s been itchy a little, but my doctor said that’s just a sign that it’s healing.
Mom got a referral for a plastic surgeon, but I just want to leave it.
It’s a scar, not a character flaw,” she says.
My heart warms hearing her so resolved, and I also kinda want to fight her mom and her doctor for making it sound like she’s anything other than gorgeous.
“You’re right. Besides, scars are cool. You’re living life, you know, and you’ll always have a cool story.”
“I am not telling anyone that I ran face-first into a fence.” She laughs. “But you’re right. I think I look fine. I just want it to stop itching.”
“It’ll be all healed up before you know it. And you look more than fine.”
“Yeah?” she says, tucking her chin against her shoulder.
“Mm-hmm,” I reply, not sure which words would be right in this moment. I have a sonnet in my head about her beauty, but it might be a little too much.
“Thank you. You look more than fine too. And thank god for Fosters Healing Ointment, the number one medicated ointment in America. With its healing magic, I should be back to normal in no time,” Saylor says.
“Oh man, you still have to film the after video.”
“I know, my mom reminded me when she was looking through our makeover pics again. She said she already sent an account manager a picture of my dyed hair and they said it was actually better because it adds to the impact of the after. Like Fosters Healing Ointment suddenly made me look a hundred times cooler.”
“Okay, that’s pretty funny. You were right to pick that color. I really like it,” I tell her. “Oh, I got a handful of followers from your cast post and some nice comments. I had a few crappy ones, but I just said ‘Thank you for your comment’ under each one.”
“Oh my god. That’s amazing.” Saylor laughs.
“I mean I almost cried and barfed first, but I’m really trying to show Miss Kelly I can handle this.”
“You can! You’re doing a great job. I mean a couple weeks ago you were freaking out just thinking about having an account and now look. You’ve been posting a bunch and you’re getting more followers. Followers who don’t tell you how ugly you are since you’ve changed your hair,” Saylor replies.
“Yeah, that’s not cool. Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah. I’m fine. People suck, but that’s not why I’m bummed. I wanna see my aunt and my cousins, but I wanna hang out with you,” Saylor says, her voice dipping into a whisper at the end.
“I wanna hang out with you too,” I say instead of telling her I think I’m going to miss her so much I might cry.
“I have some good news, though,” Saylor announces. “There’s this woman, Lara J., who’s mutuals with my mom. She just opened a cookie shop in West Adams that definitely counts as a small business. We can interview her. I was gonna message her in the morning when we get in the car.”
“I can do it,” I say, nerves punching up in my chest.
“Are you sure? I feel like this should also be a part of our bargain. I do all the hard communication work.”
I don’t mean to make a face, but I do. “Nah, I’ll do it.
That’s what we agreed to anyway.” Saylor’s already done more than enough.
She and her mom are the main reason I now have two hundred followers.
“Just send me her information. My mom grilled me on how to send a professional email in like eighth grade. I should probably give it a real-world try.”
“Okay,” Saylor says.
“Are you packed?” I hear a deep voice say through the phone. Probably Saylor’s dad. I’ve never heard him speak before.
“Noooo…” Saylor looks up and winces.
“Well let’s get off the phone. If you need help, we gotta do that before bed. We’re leaving early.”
“ ’Kay. I’ll be off in two minutes.”
“I’ll be back in three.”
I see Saylor roll her eyes and stick her tongue out and then her door closes. “Sorry. Big John Ford is the ultimate airport dad.”
“Are you guys flying?” Santa Barbara is super close, but I can see Mrs. Ford arranging a helicopter just for the plot.
“No. He just likes to be out the door when he wants to be out the door. I guess I gotta go.”
“ ’Kay. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Would it be weird if I came straight to your house after? Like just jumped out of the car on Overland and ran right to your house.”
“Well, since I don’t want you to break your other arm, just tell me when you’re back and I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay,” Saylor says. “I will.”
We’re both quiet for a second. There are some heavy words on the tip of my tongue. Not love, that’s silly, but I like you so much, I miss you already and I don’t want you to go.
“Text me,” I say instead.
“And I’ll send you pictures.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling a smile spread out across my face.
We say our goodbyes, and I roll back on my bed.
I’m still not sure exactly sure what we are, but I’m liking this more than friends stuff a lot.
I’m also glad my parents are downstairs.
They don’t need to hear the dreamy sigh that just slipped out of me.