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And my leaving also feels right.
I look over at Bobble, who mews at me expectantly.
I may not know what awaits me when I go with Sunder.
But it’s better than whatever is here.
“Come on,” I murmur to Bobble. I gather him in my arms and listen to him purr, the noise soothing my frazzled nerves.
“Let’s go see what fresh hell the rest of the universe has to offer us.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mira
The next morning, we meet Lisa for one final breakfast. She refused to let me leave town without a proper sendoff, and Sunder insists that he eat here.
With a belly full of hash browns in the Waffle House parking lot, I know this might be the last time I ever see the best friend I’ve ever had. I hate lying to her. I sobbed often during our last few get-togethers, and yet she’s here this morning holding my hand while we pack up the two small backpacks into the trunk of my old car.
Liar.You’re a terrible friend.
My genuine sadness lingers around the woman holding my hand, but I can’t tell her that. I can’t tell her I have no idea how long I’ll be gone or if I’ll ever come back.
Behind us, Bobble meows from the backseat through an open window, and Lisa chuckles and gives him a scratch behind the ear. “I hope you like planes, Little Bobble.”
Sunder waits, surprisingly patient in the driver’s seat, as I give her one last hug.
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Dude, seriously. I promise you that you can send a text from Mozambique,” she says with a wry grin.
“Still,” I insist. “I want you to know.”
“I know, Mira. I love you too,” Lisa says.
Lisa grabs me in another rough, full body hug that feels more like a body slam.
“It’s ok! Listen, this is going to be good for you. Your first destination is Bali, right? So just call me in a couple days after you settle in. Everything will be fine, Love.”
“Lisa, listen,” I start as I pull back, “If I can’t call or email as often as I want, don’t worry about me, okay? I think a break from technology will serve me well.”
She wipes a tear away and nods, as if she expects me to only be out of communication for a week or so.
I climb into the car while Lisa leans in through the window to pet Bobble Cat one last time. I don’t miss the suspicious glare she casts at Sunder before she says, “Take care of my friend, Sunder.”
He looks between us, lingering on my teary eyes, face unreadable.
“I intend to.”
The determination in his tone makes something low in my belly flip over. Satisfied, Lisa kisses my forehead before wishing us luck and telling me, again, to email when we get to Bali to let her know we made it safely.
With that said, I clamber into the passenger seat. I squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to open them.
If I do, I’ll see Lisa’s shape get smaller and smaller as we drive away in the rearview mirror.
And I can’t see that. I can’t.
Embarking on a journey of self-discovery and adventure always appealed to me in books and games, but it’s so much harder in real life. I don’t even know how I’ve gotten this far. Looking back, it feels like someone else took the steps to this point.
