Was he still alive?
Suddenly, the fact that he was with Emily didn’t bother me anymore. Annoyance turned to worry in a flash, and I checked the time on my phone, seeing it was nearly midnight. I didn’t know if he would come back to our room that night. I didn’t have his phone number. I didn’t have any way to reach him, or find him, or make sure he still had a pulse.
I could only wait to see if he showed back up.
I swore I didn’t sleep at all that night, but I must have at some point, because I woke to Kalo licking my face and the smell of sausage McMuffins. With a groan, I rolled until I was facing away from her, pulling the covers over my head.
“Morning, sunshine.”
At the sound of his voice, I sat upright.
Emery was sitting at the edge of his bed, which was still exactly how it had been left after his nap yesterday. He was halfway through his breakfast sandwich and he tossed one at me before I could register it. My hands flew up, catching the greasy paper before it smacked me in the face.
“You’re here,” I said, setting the sandwich on the bedside table with my eyes on him.
His hair was messy, his sexy smirk just barely playing at the edge of his lips. It was infuriating to me in that moment, that he could look that good that early in the morning. Especially because I had a pretty good feeling as to why he looked so happy.
“Of course, I’m here. Where else would I be?”
With Emily, I almost said, but I just stared at him and shrugged instead.
“I fed Kalo and took her for a walk. I’m all showered and ready to go whenever you are.”
He was perky and cheerful, and I was annoyed. Where was this guy yesterday? Was Emily the reason he felt so great today? What happened to wanting to stay in bed?
My eyes glanced at the bedside table where I’d thrown the journal the night before, but it was gone, packed away.
Well, he made me wait yesterday, so he can do the same, I thought, waiting until he was typing a text in his phone to slide my leg into place. I rolled my pant leg down while still under the covers before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
I coughed to cover the sound of it clicking into place, the little black pin popping into the hole as I bent for my yoga mat.
“I’ll be back.”
“You don’t want your sandwich?” Emery asked as I passed him, heading for the door. “It’s sausage, egg, and cheese. It’s a delicious heart attack in a bag. And I got you OJ to wash it down with.”
“I’m not hungry,” I answered, and then I let the door shut behind me, heading to the gym with thoughts of last night replaying in my head.
I focused on meditation more than poses that morning, spending almost double the time in Savasana before finally making my way back to the room. My shower was hot but short, then I changed quickly and packed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and heading to the car with Kalo in tow. I didn’t tell Emery I was ready to go, or ask him if he wanted me to drive again, I just gave him the same silent treatment he’d given me the day before and decided I didn’t care if it bothered him.
Part of my silence was driven by my stupid girly emotions over him hanging out with Emily all night. I was annoyed not only at him, but at myself, because there was absolutely zero reason for me to be upset. I had no right, and yet, still I was.
But the other part stemmed from what I’d read in his journal.
My eyes were still puffy from the tears I’d spilled, and I pressed my cold fingers underneath them as Emery pulled onto the highway, studying my reflection in the small mirror on my sun visor. I looked like shit, and felt like it, too.
Popping it back into place, I chanced a glance at Emery, suddenly seeing him in a completely new light. I wanted to ask him about a million questions that morning, but instead I just stared at him until he returned my gaze, and then I turned to look out the window.
Eight hours passed without a single word between us.
Unlike me the day before, Emery seemed completely content with letting me be silent. He was too busy jamming out to his music, which ranged from classic rock to modern day country, to ask why I was sulking. I’d never heard such an eclectic taste in music, and had it been a normal day, I would have been laughing and singing along with him.
But it wasn’t a normal day.
The more I sulked, the more frustrated I became. I never sulked. I was always the happy girl, the positive girl, the silver lining girl. Tammy would always get annoyed at how positive I was. She would roll her eyes and scoff at me when she wanted to rant and I just gave her solutions, and positive quotes, and meditation mantras. The way I saw it, life was too short, too delicate to spend time and energy being miserable.
It was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that I was alone with my negative thoughts.
I went from being ecstatic about leaving Mobile and chasing my dream to cursing myself for being so stupid. I ticked through all the reasons getting in the car with Emery was a terrible idea as we drove through Texas.
I don’t have a place to stay in Washington.
I don’t have a job lined up.
I don’t even have an acceptance letter to Bastyr.
Ever since I could remember, I’d saved and prepared for what would be the life-changing move for me. And then I threw all that out the door and jumped in a car with a stranger, a stranger who I now knew was suicidal — is suicidal? — and took a chance like it was exhilarating and fun and the stuff life is made of.
Stupid.
We passed a sign that said forty miles to Amarillo, and my eyes roamed the colors of all the fallen leaves surrounding the highway. Some trees were already completely bare, ready for winter, while others were still bright with yellows, oranges, reds, and browns. I personally liked the ones with just a few leaves left, those persistent ones that were holding on for dear life, not ready to leave summer yet.
The music died in the car, and I turned to Emery, who just pulled his hand back from the dial and placed it on the steering wheel again. He glanced at me, and we watched each other for a moment before I propped my chin on my hand again, eyes flashing over the sea of color.
“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he asked, speaking over the sound of the wind whipping through the car. “How beautiful everything is when it’s dying.”
I didn’t answer, but I glanced at him over my shoulder, eyes surveying the sad smile on his lips before I turned back toward the road.
“So, did we trade places?” he tried again. “Is this payback for me being a prick yesterday?”
“At least you admit it,” I murmured.
Emery chuckled, cutting around a Honda. “So, it is payback. An eye for an eye, huh?”
“I’m allowed to have a bad day,” I said, facing him as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I never said you weren’t,” he mused. He was watching me through the dark tint of his sunglasses with an amused smirk on his stupid face. “It’s just that you’re usually so… sunshiney.”
“Don’t act like you know me. You don’t.”
“Fair point,” Emery agreed, shifting his hands on the wheel. “Let’s change that. Tell me more about you.”
At that, I laughed. Full-on, head tilted back, deep from the belly laughed.