Joanna wipes at her red-rimmed eyes and shrugs. Of all the people sad about going, she’s been a particular mess. Headquarters has been her home for over two years. Whereas I have nothing to pack, she has three suitcases’ worth. Whereas I have only one more goodbye I’m dreading, she’s already had to say several.
“I really am excited to see my brother again.” It’s like she’s trying to convince herself more than me. “I’ll get to meet my niece for the first time.”
“That’ll be great.”
She nods a little too fast, then leaves the room, muttering something about forgetting a shirt on Cassie’s bed.
I set the sheet on the bare mattress, smoothing my hand over the edge when a knock sounds on the door. It’s Link. But I’m not ready. Just the sight of him makes my throat all hot and itchy.
“So …” He snaps his fingers and claps his palm over his fist. “Are you ready to talk to me?”
“I’m always ready to talk to you.”
“You’re a lousy liar.”
I guess some things never change.
He steps inside the room. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague. The question is, why? Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head, tears building in my eyes. They’ve been coming all too quickly these days. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? You’re planning on getting rid of me that easily, huh?”
“I’ll be in California. You’ll be in Denver.”
“You act like Denver’s on Mars.”
After living down the hall from him over the past several months, it sure feels that way.
“The two aren’t that far away, you know. There’s also this invention called a phone. Not to mention,” he dips his chin and wags his eyebrows, “a little thing called dream hopping.”
This makes me smile. And completely lifts my spirit. Right. I forgot about that.
“And I believe you have a birthday coming up. You think after all that visualizing, I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”
I go to him by the door and wrap my arms around his neck. “I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few months.” It doesn’t seem possible that it’s all the longer we’ve known each other. I feel like Link’s been a part of my life forever. I guess that’s the way it is with some people. Two souls primed for friendship. One that isn’t forged by time, but this mysterious, immediate connection. You meet them and you just … fit. “I wish I could give you something more than a lame, slobbery hug.”
“Are you kidding? Xena, you gave me my happy ending. You’re here, on planet Earth. All is right with the world.”
He’s too good. Too generous. And while seeing him with Ronie still produces that ridiculous twinge of jealousy, I hope the two fall madly in love and get married and have little computer whiz kids and all the happiness the world has to offer. Because that’s what Link deserves. The whole stinking package.
I rest my head against his chest, relishing the sound of his strong heartbeat against my ear, and for one terrifying second, I see it all over again. The black flame that killed Felicia hurtling toward Link. Deflected at the very last second. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here on planet Earth, too.”
“It was a close call, wasn’t it?”
I shudder. “Way too close.”
“I owe Williams one. I guess there are worse guys to be indebted to.”
The two will never be friends, but over the past few days, there seems to be a growing respect between them. “I love you, you know.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I know.” I can hear the grin in his voice. His lips brush the crown of my head. “I’ll see you when you’re legal. I’m really looking forward to that cake.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Reminders
“We’re right by carousel six!” Leela talks in exclamation points.
I called her as soon as Luka and I arrived at our gate. She made me promise I would.
“We just got to baggage claim,” I say, holding the phone with clammy hands. My jaw chatters, only I’m not cold. No matter how many times I tell myself it’s just my mom and Pete and Leela, my body doesn’t listen. The entire thing is ramped up on nerves and adrenaline.
I’m so eager to see them, I barely pay attention to the double takes Luka and I keep getting from travelers and airport security. We may have been acquitted, but that doesn’t erase the fact that our faces were plastered on the world news every night for the past two months.
“Do you see us yet?”
I lean right to see past a heavyset man in a Hawaiian shirt, then left as we walk by carousel four. “Not yet. Do you see us?”
“Oh my gosh! It’s you! I see you! Tess, I can’t believe I see you!”
I swivel around until finally, I see her too. My best friend—Leela McNeil—hops on her tiptoes, clutching a phone to her ear with one hand and waving like a crazy person with the other. Pete stands beside her—taller and ganglier than I remember. And next to him stands my mother.
A hot ball of emotion inflates inside my chest.
I never thought I’d see her again. Now, here she is, her hands clasped beneath her chin as she searches the crowd with frantic eyes. Leela points and as soon as Mom sees me, she cups her hand over her mouth. We stare at each other across the span of distance. For a moment. For an eternity. Then she breaks into a run, pushing past weary travelers until she has me wrapped up so tight, so strong, I swear I can feel both of their arms—hers and my dad’s.
She peels me away and takes my face between her hands just long enough to look at me—to rove me over with her mother’s eye—then crushes me against her again. After several shared breaths, she finally lets go and hugs Luka. “I asked you to keep her safe and you did. You kept my baby safe.”
His eyes lock with mine over my mother’s shoulder. “She’s not so bad at taking care of herself.”
I shake my head. We both know the truth. I wouldn’t have survived without him. But he wouldn’t have survived without me. The truth is, we kept each other safe.
Leela has apparently given me and my mom as much of a moment as she can. With a squeal, she runs over and squeezes my neck, smelling like sugar cookies and everything else that’s good and comforting and familiar. I squeeze her back. And then my brother, Pete. Mom folds all of us in one giant hug—this new family of mine.
It’s not the same one that I left. We are forever altered. I guess that’s what time does. It changes things. Sometimes subtly, sometimes profoundly. After everything, I’m finally home. But that doesn’t mean I get to go back. Life doesn’t work that way. The only route is forward. And so we travel it, taking the things we’ve learned and the people we’ve lost along with us.
Mom lets go and shuffles a bit to the side. A man and woman stand behind her, not nearly as put together as I’ve seen them in the past. It’s Luka’s parents—his father, as impressive as ever, his mother, somehow diminished. I have no idea how they’re here. Luka never called them, despite my promptings. He turns eighteen next week. According to him, he doesn’t need parents. I look at my mom who looks back at me, her hands fidgeting in that way they do whenever she’s uncertain about something.
Luka’s mother approaches him hesitantly. She touches his cheek, then wraps him in a hug. Luka doesn’t hug her like he hugged my mom, but he does place his hand on the small of her back. When her shoulders quit shaking, she wipes her eyes and surprisingly, turns to me. “I’m very sorry. For everything.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Everything his parents did was to protect Luka. I get it way more than they probably realize. Fear makes people do crazy things. The proof is wrapped around my ankle. I’m not sure I’ll ever take the strap off. Some reminders need to remain indefinitely.
Mom slides her arm around my waist as Luka’s mother hugs him again. His father—who’s in no hurry to offer up apologies—rubs her back stiffly. And yet, I know they’ll be okay. We all will. The pain and the loss and the h
urt is real. I don’t think it ever really goes away in this lifetime. But maybe it’s not meant to. Maybe the pain’s another reminder. Not as visible as the one on my ankle, but there just the same. To hold onto all the pieces of good and light in our lives as tightly as we can.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Birthday Wishes
Eighteen candles flicker on the cake, illuminating a portion of our kitchen. A pocket of warmth expands inside the room. One that has nothing to do with the people or the cake in front of me. The feeling doesn’t originate inside of me at all. It radiates from beyond the border of the light’s reach, pulsing in the dark. Something shimmers beside our refrigerator and for the briefest of moments—before that beautiful shimmering thing disappears—I feel terrified and brave all at once.
I blink and it’s gone. The only thing hovering near our refrigerator is empty air. The temperature returns to normal. Pete smiles and shakes dark hair from even darker eyes—one of many guests at my crowded birthday party. Mom clasps her hands beneath her chin and nods encouragingly. “Go on, Tess. Make a wish.”
It’s amazing how much can change with one extra candle on a cake. I look around at my ragtag group of guests, six of whom used to be on America’s Most Wanted list. Connal and Lexi. Sticks and Non. Link and Ronie. Luka and his parents. Cap and Dot, along with Rosie and Bass. Cressida Rivard. And my best friend, Leela, who stands between Pete and her kid sister, Kiara. They’ve come from all over—Detroit, New Orleans, Denver, Dublin (Connal decided to move back and Lexi went with him), and Augusta.
The room is full, and yet empty, too. I wish Jillian were here. She and Leela would have hit it off. And I miss my dad every single day. But I’ve learned a few things this past year. One of which is this: just because I can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there. And besides, I get a glimpse of my father every single time I look into Pete’s eyes.
“What’ll it be, Xena?” Link asks.
“Better make it a good one,” Luka adds, his words tickling my ear.
I stare at the candles, unsure. What does one wish for after the year I’ve had, with the weight of the world no longer wrapped around my shoulders? With the people I love mostly safe? I rub my chin and suddenly, I know. Tomorrow, Luka’s taking me out in the ocean. He’s going to teach me how to surf. So I fill my lungs with oxygen and wish for something silly. Something ordinary. Something normal.
Please don’t let me make a fool out of myself.
I blow toward the candles as hard as I can. The room goes dark.
*
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Acknowledgments
It’s interesting how a story comes to be.
This project was never something I intended to publish. It was something I started for myself because I needed to find the fun in writing again. I had no idea how exponentially I would find it. This series stoked my creativity in a way like nothing else has. Tess, Luka, and Link made me fall in love with my first love all over again and for that, they will always hold a special place in my heart.
It’s hard to believe that the final installment is done. It’s hard to believe this project has come to a close. The magical thing about books, though? They’re never truly over. As long as readers keep reading them and sharing them, Tess’s story doesn’t end. And that, my friends, is pretty awesome.
Immense gratitude and special thanks go out to these people …
My brother. Dude, those emails. We must have sent a hundred back and forth. Talk about synergy. You were every bit as passionate as I was about this project. So many of the ideas began with you. I love the way your mind works. I love that I get to call you my big bro. I love how convinced you are that these are going to become movies (ha ha ha). But seriously, if on the insane, miniscule possibility Tess ever sees the big screen, you can have your percentage. You more than earned it.
Amy Haddock. The guru of young adult lit. I’ll never forget sitting at that Mexican restaurant, telling you about this crazy (very off-genre) idea I had. I’ll also never forget your fun response. Our brainstorming session spurred me onward and influenced the entire series. Thank you a million times over for your input, your eye, your encouragement, and your friendship. I think you’re pretty fabulous.
Melissa Gilroy. Girl. You know. You know how much you mean to me. You know how amazingly helpful you’ve been throughout these books. I love that you get just as giddy over Tess and Luka as I do. I love how willing (and eager) you were to help me work through several of the plot points. But most of all, I just love you. I seriously couldn’t ask for a better friend.
My husband. The guy who enables me to write with his unending support. The guy who read each of these books before anybody else. The guy who doesn’t mind his wife peeking over his shoulder, constantly asking, “What part are you on?” Your belief in me means the world.
My family, for the gift of time. Thank you for all the hours you take my kids so I can sit at the computer and do what I love to do. With a special shout out to my dad, who read these books as soon as I finished writing them and kept telling me to hurry up and get the next one finished so he could read it already. I love you more.
My early readers, who offered that much-needed feedback—Janice Boekhoff, Jessica Patch, Erin DeVore, Stephanie Vass, and Carrie Pendergrass. Y’all rock.
A special thanks to Lauren and Nicole Gardner for being my first legit young adult readers. Your enthusiastic response gave me the confidence I needed to move forward. And of course, to your amazing mom—literary agent extraordinaire—Rachelle Gardner. Thanks for being in my corner!
Lora Doncea, for your talented editing eye. I’m so thankful providence led me your way when I was in need of a good copy editor.
Sarah Hansen with Okay Creations, for your artistic talent. I mean, really. The covers you created for each one of these stories is absolutely perfect.
Paul Salvette with BB eBooks, for your crazy quick formatting skills and your unending patience with my sporadic emails. Rest assured, should anybody need formatting, I’m sending them your way!
Heather Sunseri, my Obi Wan. Seriously friend, I hope you know how grateful I am.
Every reader who has shared Tess’s story, written a review, or sent me an encouraging message. You all bring gigantic smiles to my face.
And last but never ever least—my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. You created me with the incessant need to tell stories. To write words. Any measure of talent is all from you.
About the Author
K.E. Ganshert was born and raised in the exciting state of Iowa, where she currently resides with her family. She likes to write things and consume large quantities of coffee and chocolates while she writes all the things. She’s won some awards. For the writing, not the consuming. Although the latter would be fun. You can learn more about K.E. Ganshert and these things she writes at her website www.katieganshert.com. You can also follow her on Twitter and Instagram.
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