right beside her and not
half a world away. She remembers him writing last year, See
you around . She found it discouraging at the time, but
maybe that line meant it was only a matter of time for them—that just
because they couldn’t be together yet didn’t mean they’d never be together.
A
week later, Summer packs her suitcase for Los Angeles.
Chapter
10
Summer has always wanted to star in her very own airport scene.
You
know the drill: a girl is about to leave for a foreign land. The outfit is
crucial—she will be dressed in a sweater and jeans, a beige trench coat,
a red scarf, and brown boots. When she steps out of the yellow cab, she will be
wearing shades and pouting her glossy lips. Her luggage will all be matching,
and posh—no balikbayan boxes
hastily sealed with packaging tape and scribbled on with a black marker. Before
the glass doors slide open, she will look back, but only for a split-second.
You will not see her eyes through the dark frames of her sunglasses, but you
will predict that she is tearing up a bit.
The audience will be given the impression that she has
already gone through security, although she will not be shown struggling to
remove her boots and flashing other travelers her butt crack during the tedious
process of bending down to put them back on. She will strut across the airport
towards the check-in counter, passport in hand and head held high.
And
then, a boy—tall, dark, handsome, and the love of her life—will
come out of nowhere (presumably having gotten through security without a
glitch, too), grab her, and kiss her so hard her world starts spinning in slow
motion. She will not say it outright, but you will know that she’s decided to
stay. For him. They will walk out of the airport together, hand in hand.
Today,
Summer’s very own airport scene isn’t exactly turning out like she imagined it
would. To begin with, it is thirty-six degrees at high noon, and she is
sweating buckets through her gray shirt. She isn’t wearing sunglasses or lip
gloss, let alone boots or a trench coat. And she isn’t riding a yellow cab
alone. Instead, she is lurching forward as Ken sends the car screeching to a halt,
while in the passenger seat, Ellie bawls into an old face towel and makes it
sound like someone just died, telling Summer how she couldn’t believe she was
leaving them so soon and how she hoped her sister would be happy wherever she
ended up. Summer didn’t exactly have it all planned out—she had nothing
but a tourist visa and enough cash for the airfare and a few months’ worth of
living expenses—but she was almost sure she didn’t want to come back. “I
don’t belong here anymore,” Summer attempted to explain. “You and Ken and Nick
have your own life, and when I look at the three of you, I want what you have
too. Badly. But I want it to be my own.”
“But
we are your family,” Ellie
told her, and Summer said, “I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have
to go.”
As
Summer watches Ellie and Ken drive away (they left Nick at their house, where
she kissed him goodbye this morning—he thinks she’ll be back next month),
she is flooded with loneliness. Nobody understands why she has to do this;
nobody even bothered to try. Summer wants to be bouncing up and down over the
prospect of flying to the place where Scott is, over the prospect of reuniting
with him, but right now, all she can feel is a cold, sick sense of dread.
Her phone beeps with a text message from Zac. “Please
don’t go,” he tells her. Summer feels a bit cheated—if he really wanted
to stop her, shouldn’t he be bursting through the glass doors instead of
half-heartedly punching a few measly words into his phone?
“You’re ruining my airport scene,” she texts him, and he
texts back, “I just don’t think he’s worth it.”
“But
what if he is?” she asks.
When she receives Zac’s reply, she has already gone
through security, already checked in her
half a world away. She remembers him writing last year, See
you around . She found it discouraging at the time, but
maybe that line meant it was only a matter of time for them—that just
because they couldn’t be together yet didn’t mean they’d never be together.
A
week later, Summer packs her suitcase for Los Angeles.
Chapter
10
Summer has always wanted to star in her very own airport scene.
You
know the drill: a girl is about to leave for a foreign land. The outfit is
crucial—she will be dressed in a sweater and jeans, a beige trench coat,
a red scarf, and brown boots. When she steps out of the yellow cab, she will be
wearing shades and pouting her glossy lips. Her luggage will all be matching,
and posh—no balikbayan boxes
hastily sealed with packaging tape and scribbled on with a black marker. Before
the glass doors slide open, she will look back, but only for a split-second.
You will not see her eyes through the dark frames of her sunglasses, but you
will predict that she is tearing up a bit.
The audience will be given the impression that she has
already gone through security, although she will not be shown struggling to
remove her boots and flashing other travelers her butt crack during the tedious
process of bending down to put them back on. She will strut across the airport
towards the check-in counter, passport in hand and head held high.
And
then, a boy—tall, dark, handsome, and the love of her life—will
come out of nowhere (presumably having gotten through security without a
glitch, too), grab her, and kiss her so hard her world starts spinning in slow
motion. She will not say it outright, but you will know that she’s decided to
stay. For him. They will walk out of the airport together, hand in hand.
Today,
Summer’s very own airport scene isn’t exactly turning out like she imagined it
would. To begin with, it is thirty-six degrees at high noon, and she is
sweating buckets through her gray shirt. She isn’t wearing sunglasses or lip
gloss, let alone boots or a trench coat. And she isn’t riding a yellow cab
alone. Instead, she is lurching forward as Ken sends the car screeching to a halt,
while in the passenger seat, Ellie bawls into an old face towel and makes it
sound like someone just died, telling Summer how she couldn’t believe she was
leaving them so soon and how she hoped her sister would be happy wherever she
ended up. Summer didn’t exactly have it all planned out—she had nothing
but a tourist visa and enough cash for the airfare and a few months’ worth of
living expenses—but she was almost sure she didn’t want to come back. “I
don’t belong here anymore,” Summer attempted to explain. “You and Ken and Nick
have your own life, and when I look at the three of you, I want what you have
too. Badly. But I want it to be my own.”
“But
we are your family,” Ellie
told her, and Summer said, “I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have
to go.”
As
Summer watches Ellie and Ken drive away (they left Nick at their house, where
she kissed him goodbye this morning—he thinks she’ll be back next month),
she is flooded with loneliness. Nobody understands why she has to do this;
nobody even bothered to try. Summer wants to be bouncing up and down over the
prospect of flying to the place where Scott is, over the prospect of reuniting
with him, but right now, all she can feel is a cold, sick sense of dread.
Her phone beeps with a text message from Zac. “Please
don’t go,” he tells her. Summer feels a bit cheated—if he really wanted
to stop her, shouldn’t he be bursting through the glass doors instead of
half-heartedly punching a few measly words into his phone?
“You’re ruining my airport scene,” she texts him, and he
texts back, “I just don’t think he’s worth it.”
“But
what if he is?” she asks.
When she receives Zac’s reply, she has already gone
through security, already checked in her
Similar Books
