Terminal 19

by L. R. Olson

  “Are you scared, Hope?”

  I realize with some surprise, that no one has asked that before. To ask would be to admit I’m dying. No one, not Mom, Matt, or Beth, has ever admitted that much. “I was. At first. And a couple years or so ago when I realized nothing was going to work I felt real panic. But not now. Fact is, I’m kind of ready. Bags packed and all that. I’m tired of being exhausted. Being in pain. Tired of waiting. I just…dread those final weeks, really. It’s kind of funny, you know? How much we avoid death in our lifetime. It’s the one thing we know will happen for certain, to every living being, yet we spend so much time avoiding it, ignoring it, trying to prevent the impossible. At some point we have to let it go, accept dying. It certainly makes life easier.”

  “Except for the ones who are left behind.”

  “Tell me about you,” I insist. I want to remind her that she has a life outside of this world of pain and death. That she can go on after Sebastian is gone. In a way, Sebastian and I are on the same side. He might not know me, but I feel like I owe him my loyalty. And I’ll try to help her, for him. “What were you studying at school?”

  “Graphic design.”

  “Were you?” I perk up. She knows art. She knows quality. “Can I show you something?”

  “Sure.”

  I pull out my phone and open my Instagram account where I post my photos anonymously. “Tell me the truth. I’m serious. I’m a dying girl, you can’t hurt my feelings.”

  She takes my phone and starts flipping through my photos. For a long moment she’s quiet. Her brows draw together as she studies each shot with her professional eye. I grow nervous when I shouldn’t care. Why do I care? It’s not like I’ll ever have a photography career. But I want something…I want to be good at anything other than dying.

  “They’re wonderful. The shading, color.”

  She continues to look through the photos.

  My relief is immediate. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes. Amazing.” She smiles a genuine smile that lights up her tired face. “Especially the people you photograph…you capture their very essence. Their souls.”

  I flush with excitement. “Thank you.”

  She hands me my phone. “Truly, Hope, I’m not lying to be nice.”

  I slide my phone into my pocket. Maybe I will send the link to Gabrielle’s boyfriend. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “You need to submit them to contests. You need…”

  But I barely hear her as I spot a man who looks incredibly like Christian near the castle. My heart leaps, wanting to race to him of its own accord, and leave me behind. Traitor. He’s standing behind the castle, on the raised grounds across the little moat from us. I lift my hand to wave to him, but he keeps looking at his phone, missing me.

  “It’s Christian,” I explain.

  “Oh, it is!”

  We start toward the bridge to go after him, but as I’m about to cross, a woman comes running up behind him and throws her arms around his neck. I stumble. He turns into her embrace and her lips find his. They kiss. I freeze with one foot on the bridge, one on the ground. Tall, beautiful, blonde. I’m pretty sure it’s the woman I saw on his phone when we were on our first date.

  “I’m sorry,” Jessica whispers. “It’s so not like him.”

  I shrug and spin around, frantic to escape. “It’s fine.” I start quickly back the way we came. I’m not the kind of person who confronts issues. Instead, I tend to run from them. Except for death. I can’t run from that. “We didn’t say we were exclusive.”

  Jessica scurries after me. “I swear it doesn’t seem like him. Not the Christian I know. Do you want me to talk—”

  “No.” I force myself to smile even as my chest feels like it’s cracking wide open, the ribs breaking apart one by one. “Listen, we’ve been on three dates. I mean…two and then the dance club, which I guess wasn’t really a date. I’ve only known him ten days.” I rake my hands through my hair. Shit, my fingers are shaking. “I’m not…” I release a harsh laugh. “I don’t know what I am. God, I’m such an idiot.”

  Jessica grabs my arm, forcing me to stop. “You’re not an idiot.”

  Her loyalty is sweet, but she doesn’t get it. “When it comes to relationships, I’ve dated twice in my life. Two times. I don’t understand the rules, the ins and outs.”

  “No. don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. He was all over you at the club. You weren’t imagining it. God, we all talked about it after you left.”

  At least I know I’m not insane. I force myself not to look back at the castle. “It doesn’t matter because I didn’t want to get serious with him anyway. So maybe this is good.” I nod firmly. “Yes, it’s definitely good to end it now.”

  But it doesn’t look like she believes me anymore than I believe myself. She slides her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s go get some lunch.”

  I give her a stiff smile, but for the first time since arriving, my appetite has vanished.

  ****

  “Brought you some tea,” Gabrielle leans over the back of the couch, handing me a mug. She’s been bringing me green tea nonstop since I told her about my illness. Probably heard it helps the immune system or something. You wouldn’t believe the amount of crap people try to force down my throat, claiming it the miracle cure.

  I smile, even though I don’t like green tea. “Thanks.”

  “Whatcha reading?” she asks.

  I set my book down on the coffee table. “Bridgette Jones. Found it on the bookshelf, and thinking about how Daniel really should have been fired for sexual harassment.”

  She settles at the other end of the couch. “Oh my God, I know! Was that seriously acceptable in the 90s?”

  I snort. “It was acceptable last month.”

  She grins as she leans back into her corner of the couch. But as the silence stretches, her smile fades and the awkwardness is back. “You okay?”

  I cup the warm porcelain mug, trying to take comfort from the heat. It’s the tenth time she’s asked this afternoon. I don’t want to answer her question because I’m not okay. I’m so far removed from okay, and it has nothing to do with my illness. Yep, my brooding melancholy is all about Christian. The lying bastard who pretended he was perfect. The worst part is that I know I shouldn’t care. This was supposed to be a fling. One-night stand. No emotional attachments. But I thought…I thought I could trust him.

  “Want sugar? Milk?” Gabrielle asks. “Honey?”

  I smile kindly at her. “You don’t have to keep bringing me tea. I can get it myself.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She pauses, hesitating as if she doesn’t quite know what to do now. As if her one and only job was to bring me tea. Damn it all. She looks hurt. I’m being rude, taking my anger and frustration out on her. “Gabrielle, I didn’t want this. The entire reason I came here was because no one knew about my illness. Please. Can we go back to normal?”

  She scoots closer to me. “I’m so sorry. I’m being a right git.”

  “Yes, you are and thanks to Harry Potter, I know what that means.”

  “Oh my god,” she jumps to her knees on the couch, nearly causing me to spill my tea. “I love Harry Potter! I am totally visiting you in Florida, and we’re going to Universal.”

  I grin. Just like that, she’s back to normal. “Okay.”

  “We’ll even dress up in robes!”

  I laugh. A soft rain starts to patter against the windows. It’s comforting in some way. Cleansing. “Those robes are like a hundred bucks and Florida is way hot.”

  “Ugh, right.” She leaps from the couch, and races to the windows, closing them. “Okay, instead we’ll wear a sexy costume. We’ll be sexy wizards with short skirts.”

  “And find me a guy with a long, magical wand?” I say.

  She laughs.

  The thought of Gabrielle visiting me in Florida gives me something to look forward to. At least it should. But it’s been all day since I saw Christian kissing
another woman, and I can’t get out of my funk. Why? Why am I so hurt? Because he lied or because I care? “So…I saw Christian in the park today.”

  She sinks back into the couch. “By your expression I’m assuming it’s not good.”

  Hell, are those tears stinging my eyes? No. No, I will not fucking cry. “He was kissing another woman.”

  She stiffens. “He wasn’t!”

  I nod. Her reaction is so comical that it makes me feel better. She jumps from the couch, muttering under her breath as she paces back and forth. I know her reaction and Jessica’s is twice as dramatic because they know I’m dying. How dare he cheat on a dying woman. But he doesn’t know. I can’t blame him for being that heartless…at least.

  “What an idiot! He knows you go to that park.” She shakes her head. “Guys are so stupid.”

  Maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he thought things were getting too serious. Maybe they were and this is a blessing in disguise. “Indeed.”

  She settles on the couch again, closer to me, and rests her hand on my knee. Her body is warm and comforting. “Are you okay?”

  I shrug. No. I’m not okay, and it angers and pains and frustrates me all at once. I shouldn’t have this damn ache in my chest. I shouldn’t care. “I should be, right? I mean I’ve known him like a week and a half. What did I expect? I just…didn’t think he’d lie to me. I asked him outright if he had a girlfriend, and he lied.”

  I had asked him, hadn’t I? I mull over the memory, dissecting it, and realization dawns. Girlfriend. I asked him if he had a girlfriend. Maybe he hadn’t lied. Maybe she’s not his girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dating other women on the side. I lean my head back against the cushions. I’m such an idiot. Maybe he knew what I was asking, maybe he didn’t. Maybe our cultures and language barrier got in the way. Do I even have a right to be angry? We never said we’d be exclusive.

  “I’m so sorry, Hope. God, I’ll kill him if I see him.”

  I laugh. “I appreciate that, but let’s not go to prison for my week-long relationship.”

  “How could he do that to…”

  Her face flushes. Guilty.

  I quirk a brow as I lean over and pick up my camera that’s resting on the table. “To a dying woman?”

  She nods miserably. “I forgot…he doesn’t know.” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “That still doesn’t make it okay.”

  She’s right. These games, relationships…I’m too inexperienced for this shit. Christian is like Don Juan and I’m more like a nun. The two don’t mix. But I’m sick of thinking about Christian and relationships. Gabrielle is as much of an expert in photography as I’m going to get. I’d rather talk about something that’s actually important.

  “Let’s change the subject,” I say.

  “Okay, how about your photography career? Are you finally going to let me look at your photos?” She snatches the camera from my hands before I can stop her. I bite back my reprimand. It’s silent for a while as she flips through my photos. I can see her studying them with a professional eye. Picking apart the details.

  I can barely breathe as I wait.

  She frowns at times, smiles at some. I wait impatiently, nibbling on my thumbnail when I’ve never chewed on my nails before. The rain hardens, pounding against the windows. As the minutes tick by, the more nervous I become.

  Finally, she looks up, her eyes large and solemn. “I swear…stunning.” She shifts closer to me, her excitement palpable. “Do you want me to send some to my boyfriend? He’d totally tell you the truth, and might even be able to hook you up with some commissions.”

  “Really?” Commissions? That’s like having a job. A job. Making money. I never thought I’d have a career. A career means sticking around. Having something to live for. Four years. Four years if I’m lucky. Why not work, why not enjoy my time? But photography is a peek into my soul. My thoughts. My worries. My desires. The idea of a professional photographer looking at them, makes me more than nervous.

  “Sure,” I’m hesitant. “I mean…he can look at my Instagram account.”

  “Okay, I’ll let him know!”

  The buzzer rings, startling us both.

  “Not for me, I don’t think.” She jumps from the couch and moves to the intercom. “Hello?”

  “Is Hope there?”

  I’m relieved and disappointed all at once when I hear Matias’ voice. Even after catching Christian kissing another woman, a little, pathetic part of me still hoped it was him. Damn it all, I’m not ready to let the guy go. I will not die one of those clingy, sobbing women who don’t know when to move on.

  Gabrielle turns toward me. “Who is it?”

  “Friend. Ex-boyfriend, actually.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Ohhhh, this has taken an interesting turn.”

  I shake my head. “I should’ve known this would happen.”

  But I’m not inviting Matias up because I’m annoyed. I grab my umbrella and leave the apartment. How dare he check up on me. I head down the steps. How dare my mother send him. I shove open the door and step out into the rain. The weather has definitely taken a turn for the worse. I’m not surprised to see him, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept that he’s here, ruining my vacation of freedom.

  He’s standing under the awning next door, shielded from the rain. Spotting me, he grins. My anger softens ever so slightly. When he starts toward me, that familiar confident stroll, I’m fighting my own smile.

  “Here, let me help you.” He takes my umbrella and opens it, even though I’m completely capable. We stand together underneath the bit of protection. We’re close and he automatically wraps his arm around my waist. Damn it all, if I don’t sink into his warmth, but in my defense, it is chilly. And two weeks ago it would have felt natural. Now it feels…hell, if feels like I’m cheating on Christian.

  “What are you doing here?” I snap out a little harsher than I intended.

  “Wow, that was not the response I was expecting.” Matt steps back, taking his warmth with him. “My dad had some sort of governmental thing nearby and I thought I’d stop to see you. Do you not want me here?”

  He looks hurt, damn it all. I won’t fall for those puppy-dog eyes. “And my mother made you come check on me.”

  He presses his hand to his chest, even as he flushes with guilt. “I swear I’m telling the truth. My dad did have a conference and I was planning to visit. But yes…your mom asked me to check on you.”

  “She knows my cousin isn’t coming until Norway?”

  He smiles a sheepish grin. “Was not happy.” He takes my hand, his grip strong, sure and familiar. “Let’s get tea. Or I can come up…”

  I sigh and slide my arm through his. “Café on the corner.”

  Despite the fact that he’s checking up on me like I’m a child, I can’t deny that it’s nice to see him. Hell, maybe I should be losing my virginity to him. Maybe it was supposed to happen with Matias all along. I wanted it to be impersonal, no attachments, but that didn’t work. Perhaps it would be better with someone I know, someone I love, even if I’m not in love with him.

  We head to the café where I offered Christian the almond covered pastries. Inside it’s as crowded as ever. As we order, I tell him about my trip. He listens carefully, like he always does. Like I’m the only person in the room. A long time ago I thought I was special, until I realized he listened like that to everyone. Politician’s son. Still, just being in his presence calms me, for some reason.

  “Two days,” he explains. “We leave tomorrow for Amsterdam. It’s a meeting to discuss global warming. An environmental pledge.”

  As we sit at a little table and talk, my anger and annoyance fade. I realize I do miss him. Although he’s listening to me as intently as always, I can feel the disconnect between us. I’m not sure when it started, but it’s so obvious now that I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed it before. He has his life. I have mine. He’s leaving me behind already. I can feel it.

  H
e’s seen so much of the world. Is smart, caring. He’s going to have an amazing life…without me. And part of me feels slightly panicked by the idea that he might disappear from my life. That part of me wants to desperately cling to him. He’s my anchor, and if he disappears I do too.

  He’s so strong and handsome and tanned next to these pale people that he stands out. I notice more than one woman glance his way. I could have him. I could reel him back in with just a word because he is that loyal, and a selfish part of me wants to.

  Matt wouldn’t cheat on me. Why did I break up with him? I smile as he tells me about my mom freaking out when she heard my cousin wasn’t going to be in Denmark. He does the perfect impression of our parents.

  I shake my head, annoyed and amused. “I’ve been texting. Not like I’ve gone missing.”

  He grins. “You look amazing, by the way. Healthy, you have color to your face, you’ve gained weight. Honestly, I barely recognized you.”

  His compliment makes me blush. “Thanks. I feel good.” I hesitate, trying to find the words to explain how, exactly, I feel. “More than good. I feel—”

  “Hope?”

  I’m torn from my thoughts as reality comes crashing down. Christian stands near our table. That lop-sided smile is in place. My heart skips a beat and soars. While I felt happy to see Matt on my doorstep, it wasn’t this pure bliss I feel at seeing Christian. And…guilt. Why do I feel guilty? Because Christian’s gaze immediately goes to Matt. Damn it all, Christian and I aren’t dating. We aren’t exclusive. I have no reason to feel guilty.

  I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Christian…hi.”

  Matt stiffens. Christian stiffens. It’s like I’m no longer here. Just two guys ready to stake out their territory. I’ve suddenly become a prize, not a person. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Men. Really, I don’t need either of them, thank you very much.

  “This is Matt. My…friend.”

  “Boyfriend,” Matt snaps, annoying me.