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E, I don’t understand. Where are you?
How could you leave me like this?
As you can imagine, I didn’t cope well. Kind of like now.
“Ithasbeen a while since I’ve felt this intense,” I say.
Lennon adjusts his plastic bag, then crosses his arms. “Something specific bring it on?”
“Nothing major.” Unless you count seeing my former best friend and lover for the first time in ten years. “The departure counter called out the nameEliza Woon, which sounded likeDelilah Moon. And this connector going through Charlotte is throwing me off, knowing we’ll be close to Windfall.”
He huffs. “I knew taking this flight was a bad idea.”
We’d normally never have booked a flight going to Charlotte, so close to our former hometown, but my meeting with my agent in New York got pushed back. We had to change our flights home to Houston and wound up heading there of all places.
“Anyway.” Lennon rocks on his heels. “I know this is rough. I totally miss Windfall too. The festivals were a blast, and the hiking and biking trails are killer,” he says wistfully. “But it’s different for you with Delilah. Any specific memories coming back?”
A nervous laugh almost escapes me. “Nope. Nothing specific.”
“Well, I’m here for you. Unless you drink my beer at home again. Then you’re on your own.”
“I don’t like your hipster beers.”
He holds up his middle finger. “I’ll piss in the cans next time and seal them up. Maybe you’ll like that better.”
Living with Lennon and riling him up with hipster jokes is usually entertaining, but I’m a second from a nuclear meltdown.
I glance at Delilah’s riotous hair, needing more from Lennon.Something.A hint of what I’m supposed to do. I mean, what if seeing Delilah out of the blue is fate trying to push us back together? “I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be wild if I ran into Delilah here? Like, if she happened to be on our flight and I had the chance to talk to her.”
“Not really,” he says, his tone hardening, “since there’s a death threat on our heads. If you saw Delilah, we’d run our asses away from here and book another flight.”
“Ha, ha,” I say stiffly. “I was just playing the what-if game.”
Except this isn’t a game. My chest aches from her proximity. Delilah’s name is a love letter looping through my mind. If I tell Lennon she’s here, I’ll lose this tiny connection to her, even if it’s fleeting. So, no, I haven’t contemplated ditching this flight. I’ve barely walked ten paces from Delilah’s orbit.
“Anyway,” I say, going for nonchalant, “it’s just a rough day.”
But also kind of amazing. Seeing Delilah brings back our first kiss outside of Haddie’s Diner, the taste of innocence and peach ice cream on her tentative tongue; sneaking into her room and leaving flowers by her bed; fighting with her over which comic book we’d read; cradling her all night after her father’s heart attack, then again after the funeral; surprising her with a puppy—Dill Pickle—from Big Joe’s litter; spending afternoons sketching her on our wildflower picnics; confessing that she made my heart feel like a hot-air balloon, so big and bright and full it could carry me to Mars. “You’re not Delilah Moon,” I’d tell her. “You’re Delilah Mars. That’s where my heart is. In Mars, stuck on you.”
Lennon’s talking about some book he bought, but I don’t listen. Orange Jeans Guy is on his phone now, as is Delilah. I alter my angle to see her face better. She’s too far away for me to absorb small details, but she’s smiling while she talks. Her skin is more cream than tan, like she doesn’t spend hours outside anymore. The intensity of her blue eyes isn’t as clear from here, but her lips are as full as I remember, that Cupid’s bow in the center teasing me with its feminine dip. Her jeans and white T-shirt are casual, perfectly Delilah, accentuating her fuller figure.
In two seconds, I’m addicted.
“Jesus.” Lennon waves in front of my face. “You really are out of it today.”
I blink at him. “Honestly, I’m fine. And dandy. Totally fineanddandy.”
“Fine people don’t say the worddandy.” He narrows his eyes at me.
Unable to resist, I steal another look at Delilah ... and Lennon starts to turn, intent on following my traitorous eyes.Not good.
I grab his shoulders and force his focus on me. “Tell me more about your book.”
“You’re evading.”
“No, I really want to hear about your book.”
“Likely story, Captain Weirdo. Something else is going on with you.”
