“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Haven’t I proven that nothing is off limits by now?” She laughed, taking a swig of her water before offering it to me. I declined, holding up my own, and she screwed the cap back on. “What’s up?”
I shifted. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but, there’s this guy…”
“Always is,” she mused, offering me a knowing smile.
“We haven’t known each other long, but we kissed the other night.”
“And let me guess, now he’s being weird?”
I balked. “Yeah. Exactly. How did you know?”
Zoey chuckled, tightening the straps of her bag. “Trust me, they all do that — especially if you knock them on their ass, which I’m sure is the case with you and this guy. You’re beautiful, smart, funny — boys don’t know what to do with that when they actually have it.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” I said, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “He’s… complicated. It was amazing, the night we had together, but now he will barely look at me. I’m not sure what to do.”
“Hmm,” Zoey hummed, tapping her pointer finger on her chin. “Look, I don’t know the guy, but I’ll give you the advice that saved me. Every guy plays by their rules — so pay attention. What does he respond to, and how does he communicate? Even if it’s out of character for you, you might have to play his game now and then to knock some sense into him. Now,” she said, holding her finger up. “This does not mean change who you are — because you should never change, not for anyone, least of all a guy. But, if you like him, and you think he likes you, then let him know you’re not going anywhere. And don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone to show him you can play his game just as well as he can.”
My wheels were turning, trying to think of what game Emery would play, but I came up blank. Maybe he was different from the guys Zoey had been with. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Emery was different from everyone.
“Thanks,” I said, though I wasn’t sure exactly what to do with what she’d told me — at least, not yet.
She smiled. “Sure thing. You ready?” She nodded toward the skywalk, and we looped arms again, boys forgotten for the moment.
We made our way toward the horseshoe-shaped glass bridge that hung over the edge of the canyon, and when we stepped out onto it, our dusty sneakers hitting the glass, a new kind of magic found me.
Up until that point in my life, there had only been three moments when something shifted in me — the day I lost my leg, the day I realized what I wanted to do for my career, and the night Emery Reed kissed my lips. All of those moments had changed me, had propelled me into a new chapter, a new version of myself.
None of them compared to what I felt when I walked out onto that bridge.
It was completely made of glass — the walls, the railing, the floor — and my breath caught in my throat as I eased my way out, hands shaking as I pulled my arm from Zoey’s. My fingers trembled still as they slid along the smooth glass stabilizing me, eyes trying to find a focus that felt impossible to grasp. I looked all around, yet I couldn’t see everything — I would have had to stand there for years. The canyon was so beautiful, the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting the red rocks in an orange, heavenly glow. It seemed to span on forever, the dips and valleys and peaks, every inch of it rich in age and history.
I stopped at the apex of the horseshoe, leaning my elbows on the railing and peering over the edge. There were other tourists around me, most of them snapping selfies with the canyon in the background, but I left my phone tucked away, trying my best to take it all in with my eyes, instead.
I felt everything in that moment — the beat of my heart in my chest, the breath as it left my lungs before I inhaled again, the breeze through my hair, the sun on my cheeks. I felt everything I had been up until that moment, and somehow, I felt everything I would become after. It seemed like that was a turning point for me — before and after the Grand Canyon. And before I even realized it was happening, a tear fell from my wet cheek onto the railing where my hands gripped tight.
No one seemed to notice me as life rocked through me for possibly the first time on the edge of that canyon. No one asked me if I was okay, or offered me a tissue, and I was thankful. It was my moment, one meant for no one else, and for the first time, I felt alive — truly, one-hundred percent alive.
It was my rebirth.
I’m not sure how long I stood there, but it was long enough for the sun to fade away, settling the canyon in a purple dusk as the tour guides ushered us back to the busses. I hugged Zoey in a sort of trance when we had to part ways, and she just smiled, because she got it — she knew.
“Keep in touch, okay?” she said, squeezing me tight. We had to board opposite busses, hers heading to a different hotel, and I hugged her with a thanks I couldn’t voice.
“Will do. Take care, Zoey.”
We shared a smile when we pulled back, and then just as quickly as she had come in, Zoey walked out of my life.
But I’d never forget her.
Emery didn’t get out of bed the entire time we were in Grand Canyon Village.
The next morning, when it was time to make the short drive to Las Vegas, he seemed to be slowly coming back to life. He woke up early and showered, bought us breakfast, and walked Kalo. After I finished our laundry, we packed up and checked out, driving along the canyon for as long as we could so Emery could at least get a look.
Still, even though he was alert and driving, he wasn’t talking much. Other than asking me if I was ready or if I had any music preference, we were still on the silent treatment, and I hated it.
I felt refreshed from seeing the canyon, and I had to physically bite my tongue to keep from telling Emery all about it. I wanted to share the experience with him, but I knew better than to try to talk to him when he was in this mood.
Been there, tried that, binge ate the doughnuts alone in the hotel room while he hooked up with another girl.
No, thanks.
But more than anything, I wanted to know where his head was at. What did our kiss mean to him? Did it mean anything at all? Nausea haunted me at the thought that I may never get the answers.
It was only about a five-hour drive into Sin City, and I kept my eyes on the desert the entire time. When the lights glowing in the low valley came into view, the sun was just beginning to set, and for the first time in two days, Emery smiled.
“Welcome to Vegas, Little Penny.”
My heart fluttered at the nickname, at the warm tone, and I glanced at him, his smile infectious as we closed in on the oasis city. It was literally in the middle of the desert, but it was bright and loud, the energy buzzing from the strip all the way down the road to our car still just out of town. I couldn’t tear my eyes away the closer we got, and once we were actually on the strip, I just hung one arm out the window, staring in wonder.
It might as well have been daytime for how bright it was, and there were thousands of people littering the strip. I watched as bachelorette parties stumbled over the bridges crossing the strip in ridiculously tall high heels, all of their dresses matching, the bride standing out in white. There were street performers of all varieties, club promoters passing out cards for clubs, and when we paused at a stop light, a man grinned at me, handing me a playing card with a scantily clad woman on the front.