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I think I did, anyway.
Maybe I imagined it.
Another car rushes past, sending a spray of puddle water onto the sidewalk at my feet.
I must have imagined it, because it sounded like Nick’s voice.
And he should be inside the diner by this time. The club meeting started fifteen minutes ago. He’s probably at the counter, playing checkers with Hana.
It’s going to suck, but I have to tell him how I feel.
Even if it’s awkward. Embarrassing. Horrible.
I have to put it out there. Because if I don’t, every day will be like today.
I’ll keep moving into the future, and the unknown, with each passing moment feeling more and more rotten. I tried to get on that plane to LA. I stood in line when boarding started. The airline attendant asked me for my ticket. I even showed it to her.
But at the last minute, I couldn’t bear it. It felt so wrong, leaving. Even if the timing is crazy, and I’m still fresh from my breakup with Sylvester, that doesn’t change the fact that I know what I felt, up at the pond. I know how I stood there and realized, fully, that I loved Nick. So I yanked my airline ticket back before the attendant could check me into the flight. I stuffed it in my purse, turned around, and ran.
Iranto the taxi stand outside the airport. That’s how eager I was to get back here—to Nick.
At least if I tell him how I feel, I’ll know that I tried.
“Maddie!” I hear it again.
Nick’s voice sounds closer now.
I whirl around.
His black rain jacket is covered in rivulets of water. His eyes burn bright under the shadow of his hood and streaks of wet blond hair. “You’re here.”
“I am.” My voice gets caught in my throat before I can say more.
What is he doing out here, in the dark?
I look past him, toward his car. It’s crooked in its spot. He parked in a hurry.
I want to ask him why he was driving away from the diner, but the hungry look in his eyes makes me swallow down the question.
“Nick,” I whisper. It’s the only word I can get out.
My stomach feels hollow. My tongue, chalky. My heart rattles my chest, pressing me to get the words out.
But how can I?
Now that he’s standing here in front of me, and he’s looking at me with this intensity, I can’t speak.
“Maddison,” he says, his voice deep, resonant, a quiet rumble with the backdrop of falling rain. “I was going to get on a plane.”
“A plane?”
“A red-eye flight. I figured I’d call you when I landed. Thought that might throw you for a loop… but I also thought it would be worth it. I know you’re busy with your movie, but I have to tell you this.”
Tell me what?
I can’t breathe.
It’s difficult to process what he’s saying, this stuff about a plane, while my own worries keep leaping to my mind. “Is Hana in there waiting on you?” I manage to choke out.
