paces away, running his hands through his short hair. He’s pacing, back and forth, trapped by his emotions. I know that feeling, or something like it if it’s not the same.
“Pierce,” I shout. He looks up and I smile.
It takes a lot out of me to smile. Yes, I may be a good liar in some instances, but in most I’m crap. Especially when it comes to my mood and how I feel about someone.
When I catch up to him, I put an arm around him. Heavily enough to show support, but lightly enough so he doesn’t think I’m trapping him.
“Spending the rest of the day in the practice room might not be the best thing right now. Let’s grab a quick lunch, then go to Rio’s jam session. You still get to practice, but it’ll be for something fun. Might get you out of that headspace. I know I could use it.”
There’s this hesitation in his expression, but eventually, acceptance creeps into his gaze.
“Okay. You’re right. Let me grab my trumpet and we can go.”
We wind through the park hand in hand—our instrument cases taking up our other hands—and an unusually cool breeze cuts through us. It’s a literal breath of fresh air. Time is resetting itself, and I had the power to change things.
The sound of clarinets hits my ears, not unlike the last time we did this. But this one doesn’t sound like a fight. Sophie’s not showing off. She’s running through some scales and warm-ups with Rio. Their fingers fly faster and faster, until they both run out of breath. I stop, pulling Pierce back a bit as anxiety creeps into my shoulders.
It’s Sophie’s smile. I don’t want to ruin it, but I know my presence will.
“What’s going on with them?” Pierce whispers. “No, you don’t think they’re …”
He drifts off, and I get his meaning. Rio’s smile beams back at Sophie, and to be honest, I’ve never seen a happy smile from her. A confident smile? A semi-spiteful one? Sure. But a purely happy one?
“Looks like they found a way to resolve all that principal clarinet drama,” Pierce says as Rio closes the distance between her and Sophie with a light kiss.
“Dani and Ajay are here.” Pierce starts off in the other direction, and I follow.
But before I do, Sophie’s gaze locks with mine for a moment, and I see a wealth of emotions bubble into her expression before she looks away: there’s a gravity to her expression. I wonder whether it’s disappointment, or anger, or maybe something more?
I don’t press it. I follow Pierce and pick up my music from Dani. He gives me a peck on the lips before leaving to join his trumpet companions, and I notice the perk in his step as he goes.
“Sharing with me again?” Dani says. “I was able to pull a shitload of Queen this time, plus some Star Wars medley because Ajay has been asking for one all summer. Get ready for some trills.”
I laugh. “Let’s crush it.”
TWENTY-NINE
It’s seven in the morning. And not only am I awake, but I’ve also endured a forty-minute tube ride with Pierce sleeping on my shoulder, all our bags surrounding me. Now we’re at this grab-and-go café at the airport, mere hours before I fulfill my lifelong dream of going to Italy.
To pay me back for being his pillow and making sure we didn’t miss our stop, Pierce volunteered to grab breakfast for us and bring it back to the table.
The smell of espresso and bacon comforts me, wraps me up and tells me I’m just fine. But I miss Megan. I miss my parents.
Fuck, I even miss Kentucky.
The coffee’s no good in this country. I didn’t even know how much I wanted a good cup of coffee until I realized I could never get one again. The food’s fine, but the produce sucks. I’d like to buy fruit without it having to be shrink-wrapped.
The cheese is great, though. Bacon’s different here—thicker, and a bit chewy—but it’s good too. Maybe I should curate a pros and cons list.
I feel trapped in this airport, in the very spot where I could go anywhere else in the world. Even though I’m leaving for Pisa in an hour.
This is when I decide to look through my emails, and I find two from my parents, which I’ve never opened. I sigh. It takes a great deal of convincing not to open emails that have the potential to hurt me, but I force myself to