Page 155 of Make Me Laugh

“But you weren’t back. You still held people at a distance, you never let anyone show you too much love. You didn’t want to come home. There was still something missing…” Kell pauses, and it makes me draw my watery gaze to him. He’s fighting tears too, clenching his jaw.

Just two dudes, trying not to make things awkward with their emotions.

“Then you met Jo, and it was like a light turned on, and you could see past all that guilt. You’re more alive than I’ve ever seen you.” His first tear spills over, and he wipes it away quickly, trying to brush it off with a sorry excuse for a laugh. “I know you’re here now because you went looking for Micah’s laugh, but I don’t think it was his you were meant to find.”

“You motherfucker,” I say, unable to stop the tears from spilling over when I think of the first time I heard Joey’s full laugh, bouncing off the buildings of an empty Boston street. I wipe my cheeks with both palms at the same time.

Kell puffs a breath, getting himself in check. “And just because I feel like he’d want me to tell you this… You’d be a fucking idiot to let someone as cool, funny, smart, and hot as Jo go.”

I’m reminded of my conversation with Frankie, and how I promised her I wasn’t going anywhere. I grapple with knowing that Joey needs some time to think this through, to come to her senses and process what it all means, while also knowing this isn’t something she should have to do alone.

“I didn’t come home to lose another person I love here,” I finally say, making up my mind before running it past anyone else.

The door opens, and Enzo and my parents walk through. Mom scurries to me on the couch, putting an arm around my side to wrap me in a warm hug. It’s got to be a Mom thing, because she reaches out and grabs Kell’s hand, like she knows we were talking about Micah.

Enzo’s the first to speak. “She’s boarding a flight at the local airport in five minutes with a layover in Chicago. Final destination: Boston.”

Sometimes I want to know how he gets access to this information, but then I remember it would probably make me guilty of some federal crime, and I’d rather not spend ten to twenty in prison.

I slip out of Mom’s arms, standing up. “Joey isn’t a bad person, she’s just scared. Everyone she’s ever loved has walked out or let her leave.” Besides Frankie, but that goes without saying. “She’s afraid to ask me to choose her, but I will, every single time.” I’d give this all up for Joey if it came down to it. I found the laughter I need—to hell with the rest.

“Well, don’t tell us that. Tell her.” Mom flips her phone around to show me the screen. “There’s a direct flight to Boston from Grand Rapids leaving in about three hours…” I scan the flight information. “If you leave now, you might make it.”

Enzo’s brow is already raised in silent question.

I say nothing, my feet propelling me forward to grab my phone, wallet, and keys.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

THE ONE WHERE SHE CRIES IN THE BACK ROW OF A SMALL JET WITH HER SUNGLASSES ON

Comment: From unknown to center of attention real quick. Congrats @HexedHeroine

Comment reply: Were you dropped on your head as a baby? Hex had over 4.5 million more followers than West lmao

Comment reply: She’s a fucking BOOK influencer… You say that like she’s important hahaha

Comment: Oh he’s gonna cheat, nooooo doubt

Comment reply: I smell a breakup video coming

I’m on hour two of my three-hour delay, sitting on the floor in a corner of the Chicago O’Hare Airport, because I’m the dumbest person alive.

West Isakson is the world’s greenest flag, and I just up and ran, in the middle of what was his most important show to date. He’d spent the last ten weeks talking about going home and what this show meant to him… And I fucking left.

Without saying goodbye.

Because I’m too afraid to hear him say he’d choose me over his second chance at a successful life.

Because I’m too afraid to be loved.

Because the West I’m in love with deserves someone better than me…

I burrow deeper into the hood of my oversized pullover, trying to keep hidden from view. Before checking my bags in Traverse City, I’d quickly dressed in my loosest, most unassuming black sweatsuit, making sure not to forget my sunglasses.

I cried the entire first flight, alone, in the back row of a small jet with my sunglasses on in complete darkness.

I’ve been in the same corner for three hours. I haven’t taken a sip of water. I haven’t touched the Kindle in my lap. I haven’t turned on any music in the headphones I’m wearing. I haven’t removed the sunglasses from my face. I’ve barely moved. My phone’s still buried somewhere deep at the bottom of my crossbody, and I plan on leaving it there forever if I can.