The sun has set, so Bjorn leads our group back to the Jeep. We collect everyone’s gear, and I secure it in the back. Bjorn’s already got the heat cranking and giving instructions for our next stop when I climb into the front seat.
“Go ahead and keep your coats on,” Bjorn advises. “It’s only a couple minutes to our next stop.” He glances up through the front windshield. “And I think it’s going to be a good night for the lights.”
“The Northern Lights?” Bridgit asks excitedly.
“Yep.” Bjorn turns on the headlights, pulls out of the lot, and leaves the glacier behind us.
“What causes them?” Camille asks.
Bjorn glances at her in the rearview mirror. “Well, they really depend on the sun. When there are storms on the sun, charged solar particles hurtle across space and strike atoms in the earth’s atmosphere. This collision is what creates the lights.”
Camille sighs. “Amazing that something so far away can affect what we see here.”
“I can’t wait,” Bridgit squeals. “I’ve never seen them, and it’s one of the main reasons I came to Iceland.”
Bjorn grins. “Good. Because it’s time to see them. Welcome to the Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon.”
He pulls into another dirt lot, and the headlights illuminate the surreal landscape in front of us. This Gunna body knows that the lagoon is usually sapphire blue in the daylight and spotted with chunks of light blue ice. But at night, the water is inky black and the ghostly chunks of ice almost glow. Some chunks are as tall as two-story buildings, but they all eventually melt smaller and smaller until they finally turn into water in the lagoon. It’s basically an ever-changing pot of glacial soup.
Bjorn cuts the lights. “Everyone bundle up, and grab your cameras.” He smiles. “And just for Nils, I’ll even keep the heat on until everyone’s ready.”
“Aw, thanks,” Nils sings out from the back.
That’s sweet, I think to myself. And then don’t quite know what to do with that, so I immediately bury anything I’m feeling and pull on my hat and gloves.
Bjorn gives more instructions. “Once we get outside, it may take a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the dark. But don’t worry, the sky looks clear and the lights are supposed to be pretty strong tonight, so everyone should be able to see them.”
Bjorn is true to his word and waits until everyone is ready before turning off the motor. The girls and Nils climb out, but Bjorn stops me when I reach for my door.
“Hey. Are you really okay? You’ve hardly said a word since you fell.”
He really is a caring brother. Even if this body didn’t already know that, I would.
I nod and smile, feeling really happy that he likes me, or Gunna, so much. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little reflective, that’s all.”
“Ok.” He smiles. “You know I love you, right?”
That warm feeling spreads through my body again, thawing my tension, like when the sun finally appears after a long dark winter. Lottie felt this way when Berg loved her. She was pretty lucky to have that. Just like Gunna.
I grin. “Yep, I know. And I love you, too.” I nod to the sky. “Looks like it’s going to be a magical night.”
He glances past me out the window. “I sure hope so.”
I’m pretty sure he’s not talking about the lights, but I swallow that thought, open my door, and step outside. The air is cool on my exposed face, but there’s no wind. I close my eyes for a moment to let them adjust to the dark, and when I open them again, the sky is plastered with a million, tiny, iridescent stars. It looks like someone took glow-in-the-dark paint and splattered it all over an inky black canvas.
It’s so beautiful. I feel my heartbeat slow, and I soak in the happiness.
Camille grabs my arm and tugs me away from the others.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Oh yes!” she whispers. “More than okay! This is just breathtaking.”
I can barely see her face, but she sounds happy.
“I need to ask you a question and I didn’t want anyone else to hear,” she whispers.
“Okay.”
“Please don’t think I’m being forward, but Nils is my favorite cousin and I love him with all my heart, and I would do anything for him.” She pauses. “His last boyfriend really shattered his heart, and Nils has been so sad since then that I can’t believe he’s happy again. So, I just need to know. Is Bjorn a good guy?”
I answer immediately. “Yes. A million times yes. He’s one of the best.” And I know in my heart that it’s true.
She exhales. “Good. Good. I figured he was. And is he… Well, Nils is looking for a relationship. Someone who will be his friend. Someone who will be there for him in both the good times and the bad. He’s not just looking for a good time. He’s looking for love.”
Love?
I glance over and see Bjorn slip his hand into Nils’ hand. Then Nils leans over and kisses Bjorn. On… the… lips.
I gasp. Oh my god. I’ve been here before. I’ve seen this. The boy I love kissing another boy.
I get ready to bolt. I don’t want to feel this pain. That’s why I chose this path. I get ready to fight the anger and pain and heartbreak… but it never comes. My heart doesn’t break. It squeezes. With joy. Pure, happy joy.
And I suddenly see everything this Gunna body has seen over the years. I know how hard it’s been for my sweet, thoughtful, funny brother to find someone. I know how many times he cried on my shoulder about how alone he felt. I know he’s been searching for someone to share his life with. To share his deep love.
And now it looks like he might have found that.
And it doesn’t matter that it’s with a boy. Bjorn is happy. And isn’t that what everyone deserves? To be happy.
Isn’t that what I’m searching for?
I know I shouldn’t, but I think of Dillon. When I saw him kissing that boy, I freaked because all I thought about was myself. I didn’t think about how Dillon felt, or about how he deserved to be happy. I only thought about me.
How awful for Dillon or Bjorn to have to stay away from someone they like just because others don’t approve. Or worse, to stay with someone you hate, like that devil man in Bangkok, because that’s what you feel you have to do. Like Dillon staying with me, even though he loved someone else.
I’m suddenly very ashamed. Dillon didn’t hate Lottie. He didn’t fall in love with that boy to hurt her. He was just looking for happiness.
I inhale.
“Bjorn is looking for love, too,” I tell Camille.
She glances over at the two men that we both love so deeply and murmurs, “Then I’m happy that they found each other.”
I nod. “Me, too.”
And suddenly the northern lights are here. A shimmering wave of green dances across the sky, bouncing among the stars with glee until it flickers and fades into darkness. I know this body has seen them before, but I never have, and they are utterly glorious. I watch another flickering curtain paint triumphant streaks across the starry sky, and I smile.
Well, I didn’t get the boy, but I got to see some amazing things. And I think maybe I even understand a little bit why Dillon chose that boy over me. We can’t make ourselves love someone. It just happens. Whether it’s a boy loving a girl, or a boy loving a boy, or a girl loving a girl. It just is.
Okay, Soul. It’s time to get on the road again. I’m ready for more happy. And I’d still love to see Paris. The one in FRANCE that is! But if that’s just way too much trouble for you, at least take us somewhere warm.
And then I close my eyes, and wish myself far, far away.
CHAPTER 30
Pain, true love, and a wedding
I hear laughter. Happy laughter.
Okay, Soul. So far so good.
I’m not cold anymore and my stomach is rolling a bit, so we must have jumped bodies. I hope for the best and open my eyes.
I’m lying on a bed, staring up at wispy pink veiling and
drowning in orange and purple pillows. The room is painted a bright teal blue, the ceiling is covered in ornate metallic tiles, and red and purple bejeweled lanterns hang under arched doorways in every corner.
I can’t believe it! I’m back in the bedroom I shared with Malika! I jump up, race over to the pale pink wardrobe, and look in the mirror. And I’m Aicha, again!
I hear someone singing. “Wow! Wow! Wow! I’m getting married today!” and I totally recognize that sweet voice singing the goofy song I made up. That’s the voice that started this whole, crazy, soul-jumping adventure. That’s my sister, Malika. And today must be her wedding!
Right on, Soul! This is a happy place!
I follow Malika’s happy song across the courtyard and into our mother’s room. Malika is sitting on a purple, cushioned stool in front of a small dressing table and mirror. Auntie is curling her hair and Malika is beaming from ear to ear.
“Happy wedding day!” I sing.
Malika sees me in the mirror and purses her lips.
I grin. “Are you beyond excited?”
She doesn’t respond.
Why is she mad at me? What did I do the last time I was here? I can barely remember with everything that has happened since then. Let’s see. We were having fun at her henna party. She was happy and showing me her henna… oh. And then I left.
No problemo. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that no one can stay mad at a happy girl who spreads happiness. And I’m still not doing mad. Only happy.
I grin at Auntie. She’s seen my boobs. I’ve seen her boobs. I feel like we have a connection now. “May I please take over?”
Auntie raises her eyebrows so high that they almost disappear under her headscarf.
I grin wider. “Pretty please.”
No response.
Okay. Time to pour it on thick. “But it’s my only sister,” I pout. “I’ve dreamed my entire life about how I would curl her beautiful hair for her wedding day. I practiced on dolls. And made charts. And took classes. Well, not really classes. More like practiced on other girls, like at homecoming and stuff.” Now I’m rambling. And I don’t even know if they have homecoming in Morocco. “I can’t wait to make this day extra special just for her.”
Auntie looks at Malika, who rolls her eyes and shrugs. Auntie smiles and hands me the iron.
Success! Auntie likes me again. Look at me spreading my happiness.
“Thanks so much!” I squeal. As Auntie leaves the room I call after her. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make this a day she’ll always remember.”
“Really?” Malika mutters. “That must be why you slept so late.”
“Now, now, sassy sister of mine,” I chuckle. “I’m not that late to the party.”
She turns to glare at me. “Really? It’s already seven-thirty. At night. Our guests start arriving in thirty minutes.”
Uh oh.
“I’m so sorry.” I gently turn her to face the mirror again. I grab a section of her hair and slide it through the curling iron. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
She shrugs. “After the way you’ve been acting, I really didn’t think you cared.”
She tries to grab the iron out of my hand, but I bat her hand away. I release the curl and it falls into a perfect spiral on her shoulder. I set the curling iron on the table and kneel down next to her. I grab her hands and squeeze them tightly between mine.
“I do care,” I insist, surprised at how much I truly mean it. “I really do. I want you to be happy on your wedding day, and I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make it the happiest day of your life.”
Malika sniffs like she doesn’t believe me. And she has good reason. Last time I was here, I tried to steal her blue jilbab, went shopping instead of going to the hammam, and then I selfishly skipped out on her henna party. And now I’ve missed the entire day of wedding prep. I have not been a very good sister. But I refuse to feel sad and guilty. That’s all in the past. I need to let it all go. I’m here now, and I’m going to make it up to her by making her happy.
I stand up and bow. “My stunning sister and wedding day queen, please forgive me. And pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top allow me to bring you happiness by asking me to do anything!” I make a face. “Unless you ask me to eat pickled squid. That I won’t do. Even for you.”
A grin tugs at her lips.
I roll my eyes. “Okay. Okay. I’ll eat your slimy squid. You happy now?”
That makes her snort. “Oh, Aicha, you’re crazy.”
I shrug. “Only if you won’t let me help you.”
She welcomes the grin onto her face. “I can never stay mad at you. You’re my favorite sister!”
Now it’s my turn to grin. “I’m your only sister.”
She waggles her eyebrows. “Exactly.”
She reaches out to hug me and I eagerly let her. My stomach fills with butterflies of happiness.
She pulls away first. “I love this, but I have to get ready. Want to help me put on my first dress?”
“I’d love to!” I squeal, and I really mean it.
She grabs my hand and pulls me over to Mum’s bed. It’s drowning in colorful dresses and gobs of gold jewelry.
“Girls.” Mum’s voice drifts in from the doorway. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are wide, but she looks lovely. She’s wearing a scarlet-red kaftan dripping with elegant, gold appliques and cinched at the waist with a golden belt trimmed in silver crystals. She gestures to the three women standing behind her dressed in identical cream kaftans. “The neggafate are here.”
I’m already tuned into Aicha so I know Mum hired the neggafate to help Malika change into her dresses and jewelry over the next eight hours of the wedding.
I want to speak privately with Mum and apologize. I don’t want her to be mad at me either. So as the women descend upon Malika, I sidle up to Mum.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks, her face a beautiful mask.
I nod. “Yes, thank you.” I inhale a deep breath. “I know I was being selfish before, and I’m really sorry. But now I’m going to do everything I can to make this day happy.”
Mum’s red lips swell into a smile. “I know you will, Aicha. You are an amazing sister, and I love you. I love every part of you, the good and the bad. And I always will.”
Wow. I didn’t expect her to say that. She loves Aicha despite all the crap I’ve done. I wonder if Lottie’s mama would do that, too. After everything she did.
Not that I should care about that anymore. I may never be Lottie again.
“And I will love you even more when you are dressed!” Mum scolds with a grin. She hugs my waist and motions to one of the neggafate. “Please help her. She must go up before her sister.” She presses her forehead against mine. “Promise you’ll come up to the roof as soon as you are ready?”
I smile. “I promise.” I’m so happy that she’s so happy that I might burst.
“That’s my amazing girl,” she says, and kisses my cheek before leaving the room.
One of the neggafate introduces herself as Aya and hands me my kaftan. I know Mum had this one specially hand-made for me for the wedding, and I’m so grateful. It’s really stunning. It’s made of a deep blue silk with a tiny wave of purple and orange flowers cascading down one side. Gold embroidery trims the neckline and a wide gold belt cinches it all together.
I add a few curls to my long, black hair; and when Aya places a delicate gold tiara on my head and drapes a gold necklace dripping with deep blue crystals around my neck, I get positively giddy with happiness.
“I feel like a princess!” I gush to my reflection in the mirror.
Malika hugs my shoulders. “You look like a princess,” she coos.
She’s only wearing the sheer white gown that goes under her first kaftan, but she’s glowing and grinning, and looks more lovely than I’ve ever seen her.
I bow to her. “But I’ll never be as beautiful as you, oh best-sister-ever who didn’t make me eat pickled squid!�
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She giggles. And that makes my heart burst with even more joy. I feel full of happiness and I want to spread it!
I grasp her hands in mine. “You truly are as beautiful and kind on the inside as you are on the outside.” And without even thinking about it, I say her name just like Lottie always did with Berg. “I love you, Big M.”
Malika’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Aicha. You haven’t called me that since before I tried on my henna dress!” She squeezes me in a hug, and sniffles, “I thought you were angry with me, because I’m getting married and leaving.”
One of the neggafate glares at me before wiping Malika’s eyes with a tissue.
I squeeze her hands tighter. “Oh no! I’ve never been mad at you. I’m so very happy for you, and I just want you to be happy.” This time I’m not just saying it make her happy. This time I mean it, and it feels good.
“I love you, Little A,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “You’re the best sister ever.”
I hug her tight and breathe in the happiness and joy. This is love, too. A strong, amazing sibling love. A love like Gunna and her brother had. Like Lottie and Berg had.
Aya clears her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really need to help the bride get ready. The wedding is about to begin.”
I give Malika one more squeeze and then pull away. If I can’t go back to Berg, then I’m happy I will have her to love.
I grin. “Now you need to get ready for your big day, and I need get upstairs before Mum comes searching for us!” I kiss her on the cheek. “See you up there, Big M.”
I dash out of the room and take the stairs two at a time, which is hard to do in the tight kaftan. I somehow make it to the top without ripping anything, and when I walk out onto the rooftop a gorgeous scene of happiness and color greets me.
The billowy white tent is still overhead, but the roof is now filled with round tables draped in soft-pink tablecloths and topped with ornate, white lanterns. Giggling children are chasing each other around the tables while smiling women and men are mingling and chatting like old friends.
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