Page 152 of All the way home

“You’re freaking out.”

Zach sinks down an inch in his seat and shrugs his hood up around his ears. “I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

Scowling, Zach slouches down even more.

“You seem like you need a distraction,” Kieran says as the plane starts moving, and Zach’s eyes bug out.

“Uh.” Zach’s brain is officially offline.

So Kieran reaches over and takes his hand.

What, Zach thinks, staring as Kieran entwines their fingers, the fuck. Is. My. Life?

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

And Zach laughs, because there’s everything to worry about. Laughs because he’s never been nervous like this in his life. Jitters run down his spine and he grips Kieran’s fingers.

Everything to worry about, and also . . . nothing.

The roar of the jets kicks higher, and Zach’s stomach flips.

“Count down to it,” Kieran whispers. Or maybe he says it regularly, Zach can’t tell. It’s loud in here. “That helps.”

Nodding, Zach intends to start, but then the plane starts accelerating, and all of the built-up courage in him liquifies.

“Three,” Kieran says for him.

They’re rocketing down the runway.

He squeezes his eyes shut. “Two.”

Kieran’s fingers press into the back of his hand.

The nose of the plane tips upward.

Zach’s heart flutters in his neck. He cracks an eye just in time to catch the beginning of Kieran’s wide smile and thinks, Oh.

I’ve done it now.

One.

Hour Seventeen-6:04 A.M. Localfour Hours Later Chapter Forty-Nine

Zach

Sleep-deprived and awash in the momentum of the last sixteen hours, stepping through the revolving door into Arrivals feels like a departure into a different world.

Tove, bedraggled and blinking sleepily under the harsh fluorescent lights, and next to her—

Zach can’t quite make sense of what he’s seeing until she’s already tackling him so hard he staggers backward.

Seconds later, the familiar scent of Nag Champa envelops him, arms closing tight around him.

“Mara?” Zach submits to the hug, confused and elated and on the verge of tears all at once, squeezing Mara back as she makes a valiant attempt to crush his rib cage. “How are you here?”

“The miracles of motor travel,” she tells him, then steps back, taking hold of both shoulders with a grip like iron, blinking hard. “You missed the Ursids, you bitch.”