41. Jackson
41
jackson
We’re already back at JFK, and it feels like we were just here. Well, I guess we were. When I picked her up yesterday, the possibilities felt endless.
Now she’s anxiously looking over her shoulder at the line, and I know she needs to go. It took everything in me not to drag her back to that bed this morning, but she gets stressed about things like being late. And as much as I’d secretly love for her to miss her flight and stay longer, I can’t be the reason it happens.
“Okay,” she says, bringing her attention back to me. She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching mine. “I guess this is it.”
I nod. “Go. Don’t miss your flight.”
She frowns, and I somehow feel like I’ve said the wrong thing. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll um?—”
“December.”
She finally smiles. It’s a small one, and it fades quicker than I’d like, but she nods. “December.”
Kissing her, I want to memorize everything about this moment. The way she melts against me. The way she pushes up on her toes to kiss me deeper. The way I don’t want to let go.
When I force myself to pull away, I rest my forehead against hers. “Text me when you’re at the gate.”
“Okay.” Her voice comes out sounding more like a whisper, and I notice the way her delicate fingers grip the front of my jacket like it’s her lifeline—I try to commit that to memory, too.
“And text me when you land.”
She lets out a light laugh. “Okay.”
“Text me for anything. I don’t care if it’s early or late, or if you think I’m busy. Text me.”
She takes a small step back, and I think a piece of me goes with her. “I should go.” She points over her shoulder with her thumb.
“You should.”
But she doesn’t walk away. Her smile gets a little bigger, and she says, “December,” one more time before kissing me.
Then she does pull back.
She does turn away from me.
And she walks deeper into the airport, following the signs for where she needs to go. Just before she turns out of sight, she looks over her shoulder to find me still standing here, still hating the distance between us with every step she takes. She tilts her head in mild surprise like she thought I’d be out that door as soon as she turned around. I give her a small wave and point for her to keep going. She waves back before laughing to herself and walking around the bend. Disappearing from my sight.
Then I’m just standing there.
Staring at nothing.
Letting out a breath, I rock back on my heels. I can’t leave. Not yet, anyway. I don’t think she’ll miss her flight, but I want to be here if she does. Looking around, I spot a metal bench by the window and take a seat, leaning my head back against the glass.
I can’t believe she’s gone. Our big trip—the one that was supposed to make all the waiting worth it—flew by, and now we’re back to waiting again. Two months isn’t that long. I know that. I know a lot of people wait a lot longer to see the people they love.
Fuck .
Leaning forward, I rub my hands over my face and let my knees shake out some of the panic lodged in my chest.
I didn’t tell her. It was the one thing I was supposed to do, and I didn’t even tell her. Part of me actually considers running through the airport like one of those idiots in the movies, but I stay where I am. I rest my elbows on my knees and clench my fists. I look in the direction she disappeared and rest my chin on the backs of my knuckles, but I don’t move.
Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I do what countless people do every day? Why is the thought of telling her just as paralyzing as the thought of not telling her?
I can’t remember the last time I’ve said that to anyone. I’ve definitely never said it to someone I’ve dated, but I don’t think I’ve said it to anyone else in years. My mom? Maybe? I can’t remember a specific time recently, but I’m sure there was one. Definitely not my dad. I don’t think he’s told me he loved me since I was six or seven. Matt has told me he loves me more than my dad has over the years, but do I ever say it back?
My thoughts are giving me a headache. They’re too loud, and they don’t matter. All that matters is that I fucked up again. I was supposed to make some big deal out of telling her, and instead, I didn’t tell her at all.
Mya is never going to let me live this one down. Part of me doesn’t even want to go see the band after this because I know Mya will be eagerly waiting to hear all about my big, romantic gesture. She’ll want to know every detail, and I have absolutely nothing to tell her.
I don’t know how long I sit there, contemplating my every move over the past twenty-four hours, but eventually Margot texts me to tell me she made it to her gate in time.
With no other reason to sit here, I get to my feet. I might not want to hear what Mya has to say about this, but the band is waiting, and at some point, I’m going to have to face the music.
Everyone stayed in a nearby hotel last night since Albany is only a few hours away and we didn’t have to drive through the night. It’s nice to have a break from sleeping in the RV. We can’t afford to do it all the time, but Brian handles most of the budgeting. A few weeks ago, he sat us all down and asked us what our goals were. Ever since, he’s been rejecting any ridiculous requests we have like some kind of top security bank.
When I get dropped off at the front entrance of the hotel, I spot the RV in the parking lot and head that way instead of going inside. Dave texted me earlier saying they were about to check out and grab lunch from somewhere inside. Brian must have been feeling generous. The place they stayed in looks just as nice as the one I stayed with Margot. Maybe he wanted to give everyone in the band a reason to celebrate. I’m just glad we didn’t end up at the same place.
Imagining Margot by the edge of that pool already feels like a far-off dream, and now I’m awake, trying to cling to the pieces before they fade away.
“Hey, man.” I lift my head at the sound of Dave’s familiar voice. He’s leaning against the RV with his phone in his hand.
I nod as I walk up to him. “Hey.” He looks better than I’ve seen him in weeks. Lighter maybe, like he isn’t carrying as much on his shoulders.
“Margot on her way back home?”
Standing next to him with my back against the RV, I nod again. “Yup.”
He holds up his phone. “I was just talking to Lynn.”
My eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”
Dave nods, a tight-lipped smile forming. “Yeah. I think we’re going to try to work things out.”
“That’s great.” I know Dave has missed her more than he’s let on. He’s barely looked at another girl since we’ve been on tour, and he hasn’t been himself. “What changed?”
Dave shrugs as he slips his phone in his pocket. “Nothing really. We still have a lot to figure out, but after seeing you with Margot last night, I realized I wasn’t ready to take the easy way out. Balancing Lynn and the band will be tough, but I think it’s worth it.”
“It is.” I’m surprised seeing Margot with me had any effect on him. I figured they all looked at us like a couple of crazy kids who have no idea what we’re getting into. They wouldn’t be wrong. But the fact that Dave was somehow inspired by what Margot and I have feels pretty good.
Dave lets out a laugh. “I’m surprised you let her get on that plane. With the way you were looking at her last night, I figured you’d find a way to take her with us.”
My lips twitch. I’d love to have Margot come on tour, but she has her own life. “She wants to finish school and build a career.”
Dave takes a better look at me. “You’ve asked her?”
I shake my head. “It would just give her something else to stress about.” Leaning in a little closer, I add, “Plus, I don’t think I want her around Marty more than she needs to be.”
Dave lets out a bellow before clapping me on the shoulder. “Aw, come on. He’d behave. ”
I cock an eyebrow, and it only makes him laugh more.
“All right. I get it.”
Why would Dave ask about Margot going on tour? We’ve only been together a few months. Dave and Brady were with their girlfriends for years. Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Did you ask Lynn to go on tour?”
Dave sobers slightly. “Yeah. Of course.” He looks up like he’s trying to remember. “We’ve had that talk . . .” He blows out a breath. “Shit. I don’t even know how many times at this point.”
“She said no?”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Every time.”
“But why?”
He shifts his weight. “She already has a great job doing something she loves. It would be too much of a sacrifice for her.” He looks up at the RV next to us. “Plus, there’s the whole living arrangement. I’d love to fly back and spend a few days with her between shows, but we’re not earning enough for frequent flights yet.”
“So, why did you think I’d invite Margot?”
A rueful smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Jackson,” he says with a hint of amusement, and I don’t think he’s ever said my name so deliberately. “You and Margot are young. I know it might not feel like it, but she’s as detached as she’s ever going to be. She hasn’t built her career yet. You two can afford to be wild and free in a way the rest of us can’t.” He lets out a low laugh. “Now is the time for you two to make reckless decisions and challenge the impossible.”
I huff, but I’m not buying everything he’s selling. He didn’t hear the way Margot talks about her internship. He didn’t see the spark in her eyes when she broke down her strategy for covering the small bookstore in town. Her career might be new, but that doesn’t make it less important .
Instead of arguing with him, I lightly bump my knuckles against the side of the RV. “And the living arrangement?”
He shrugs. “You two are used to those shitty dorm beds.”
A breath of laughter leaves my lips.
Pointing back at the hotel, he says, “Listen, I have to get the others, but we’re pretty much ready to hit the road. Want to come?”
“I’m good. Do me a favor and make sure Marty at least showers before he starts bragging about what he did last night.”
“On it.” Dave gives a two-finger salute before turning on his heels and heading back toward the hotel.
And I’m left to wonder what it would feel like if I were standing here with Margot instead of standing here alone.