Chapter Text
Solo-traveling isn’t exactly new to me, but I’ve never gone on a flight without Mom, Dad, or Steven by my side. We don’t even travel that often. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve left the east coast, and I don’t even need to use all my fingers. We’ve visited Grandma in Korea three times, always during the fall, until Mom and Dad got divorced and Grandma just about lost it and refused to talk to Mom for a whole year.
Getting off the plane, I turn to try to find my mom on her way to baggage claim before I remember. It’s so weird being here alone. Jere was supposed to come with me for a few days before he went off with his dad to Cousins, but after our breakup . . . my stomach churns at the memory. Taylor locked me out of Instagram so that I wouldn’t wallow over him having fun in Cabo, and she’s so right to do that, but I’m here in California and—
And Conrad and I are in the same vicinity again. My skin practically buzzes.
While I walk toward Terminal B, I call my mom. “Just got off the plane.”
“Did everything go well? How was your seat? Were the snacks okay?” Mom immediately starts asking.
I tell her everything was fine and that I’m just ready to crash at the motel before locking in for the interview. San Jose International is surprisingly easy to navigate, so I’m waiting for the bus in no time.
Mom sighs. “Bean, are you sure you don’t want us to come with you? Your dad’s spring break coincides with yours, so we can both be there to help you prep for your interview. We’ll take a red eye—”
I rush in to say, “I’m fine, Mom, really. I’m twenty, not two.” I say that last part a little quietly because there’s a woman a few feet away giving me a side eye. I tuck my free arm into myself.
“Okay, yes, you’re a grown adult. I’m serious, though, if you need anything, Conrad’s there.”
As if I didn’t know that already. As if I haven’t thought about this specific fact and held it close to my chest since I knew I was coming to California. Just being here, being on the west coast, has my skin zinging with awareness. I wonder if he can feel it, too—that inexplicable change in the air.
When I got invited to do an interview for this prestigious summer internship, and they said it was in-person at their Palo Alto headquarters, I responded so gratefully and agreed before opening up my text messages with Conrad.
Hey, I’ll be near Stanford for spring break this year.
Delete.
Conrad, I have an interview in California!
Delete, delete, delete.
I don’t know why I didn’t tell Jeremiah first, or even Mom or Taylor. I don’t know why my first instinct was to tell him. So I didn’t send anything. Instead, I just looked at our last few sparse messages.
December 27
Locked up before I left <3
Sent at 4:38 p.m.
He loved the message and nothing else.
January 1
Happy New Year, Belly. I hope everything’s going well.
Sent at 12:00 a.m.
Happy New Year to you too!!! Everything’s AMAZING AHHH!!!!!!!!!
Sent at 1:07 a.m.
Make sure to drink water and take an aspirin after you eat something in the morning.
Sent at 1:07 a.m.
I remember liking his message when I woke up that morning. Rereading that was so embarrassing—I used way too many exclamation points, and he knew immediately how drunk I was. But I followed his instructions and didn’t feel like complete shit later in the day. I couldn’t message him back and say thank you. I don’t know why.
That was it between us. Our recent texts. I couldn’t bear to scroll up higher than last Christmas.
Mom continues, “His spring break’s in two weeks, but he’ll help you with anything.”
“Oh, no, we don’t—” talk. I clear my throat. “Mom, I’ll be fine.”
“He knows you’re in California, so it’s not a surprise,” she says. I wince. Mom told me she mentioned it to Conrad on one of her monthly calls to him. She didn’t say how he reacted, but I gathered context clues from his silence and hers. He doesn’t want me around. I’ll be intruding and everything’ll be awkward and tense again.
But my brain suddenly reminds me of Christmas. The soft, easy energy between us. Here was Conrad Fisher from my memory, my summer boy dressed in winter, in front of me. Still tan, with a red nose, and a heart-stoppingly familiar crooked smile. We laughed like little kids again, and he teased me like he used to, and, for a moment, I forgot that we weren’t together. That what we were doing wasn’t just an extension of that winter night years ago.
I still love you, I still love you, I still love you, my pulse thudded when he picked me up and carried me. I always will. I can’t remove you from my heart. I think you created it with your own hands. How could that even be?
“I know,” I say aloud.
“And when you talk to Jeremiah, tell him that his emergency card won’t work. There have been fraudulent charges, and Adam got it changed but he hasn’t been able to get into contact with him.”
It’s like I’m being doused with frigid water. Jeremiah. Right. Jeremiah, who didn’t tell me he planned a trip to Cabo weeks after he told me he would be there for me for my interview. Jere, my not-boyfriend boyfriend because we’re on a break but surely we’ll get back together when we see each other again. “I—sure. Yeah. I’ll do that when . . . when I talk to him.” Quickly, to end the call, I say, “Mom, I have to go or I’ll miss the bus, okay?”
I don’t want to think about him. About any of them.
“Stay safe. I love you.”
I tell her, “I love you too.”
My phone feels much heavier than it is as I end the call.
The bus comes and I transfer to the Caltrain in a couple of minutes. I text Taylor and she asks how I’m doing, and I ignore what she’s really asking and say that I’m really tired and that we’ll talk tomorrow.
It was noon when my flight took off, and now six hours later, I’m still being bathed in afternoon sunlight.
I booked a motel a half mile down the road from the train station, so the walk isn’t too bad. I get there right when check-in starts, and I’m so excited I almost run out the door without grabbing the key card. Grinning sheepishly, I take the key card and rush to my room.
The moment I lay down, I sigh deeply.
I can’t believe I’m here in California for a whole week. Alone.
Well, not alone.
There’s less than a mile between me and Stanford University. God, I don’t even know where Conrad lives. He could be in a different city for all I know.
I try not to think about him.
I have an interview on Friday to deal with so that leaves me with five days to practice all my answers and really prep. Conrad’s probably busy with friends, right? That’s why he never texted me even though he knows I’m here. Mom probably sent him my flight info. I shake my head and focus again. After my interview, I have the rest of the day and most of Saturday to relax before my late flight back to Philly. I should text him, shouldn’t I? It’s so weird being this close and I’m here for a whole week and if I don’t meet up with him once, then what happened over Christmas—which was nothing, really, in the grand scheme of things—means something. But it wasn’t like we were doing anything.
I take out my phone and open up my texts with Conrad. What do I even say?
My breath stops when I see three dots appear.
Welcome to the west coast, Belly. Want to grab dinner?
Sent at 4:45 p.m.
My pulse races.
Hi! Yeah, sure! I’m staying at the Coronet Motel.
Sent at 4:45 p.m.
With only a moment’s hesitation, I tack on the room number.
I’ll pick you up at 7. Get some rest.
Sent at 4:46 p.m.
I drop my phone down on my chest and groan.
How I’m going to get some rest is beyond me.