Friday
I was almost there.
Jesse was just twenty minutes away, and time seemed to be compressing and expanding simultaneously. I’d turned my music off an hour ago. It was like I couldn’t even hear my favorite songs right now. Music was too distracting, spinning my thoughts in too many directions. I needed to focus on where I was going and what I was heading to.
My heat was cranked up—the temperature had been steadily dropping as I’d gone north, but even so, I could still feel my palms sweat when I thought about what I was moving toward.
Because Russell would either be there, in the place we’d decided on back in August, waiting for me—or he wouldn’t.
And if he wasn’t, then I’d just be a girl alone in a bus station who’d driven seven hours with nothing to show for it except a slight sunburn across her cheeks.
But I had to take the risk. I had to show up and just hope that he would be there too, that he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. That his heart was also pounding an excited, nervous metronome in his ears right now.
I saw the exit for Jesse and signaled to take it, flexing my hands against the wheel.
I was almost there.