On the Way to You Read online

  As if she could read my mind, Lily spoke my thoughts out loud. “Miss you, bestie. You wearing your ring?”

  I sighed. “Miss you more. And like you even have to ask.”

  “I’ve got mine on, too. I’m with you in spirit. Call me anytime, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

  “I’ll check in again soon,” I promised, and then I ended the call, rolling up my yoga mat and heading back to the room.

  It was still dark when I let myself in, but Kalo was wide awake, hopping around my feet as I used the light from my phone to find my way through. I took her for a long walk, my excitement growing as I saw the ridges of the canyon in the distance, but when I tried to wake Emery after we were back, my mood soured instantly.

  He was still in bed, covers pulled up over his messy hair, and when I turned on the lights, he groaned.

  “Ready to hike, sunshine?” I tried to tease, but he just huffed from under the comforter.

  “I don’t want to go.”

  I was tempted to roll my eyes, but then I remembered his journal, how he wrote about the days when everything just felt pointless. I’d never experienced it myself, but I imagined it would be an awful feeling. He’d asked me to understand, and I wanted to, I wanted to give him what he needed.

  Steeling all the sympathy I could, I sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s really nice outside, and I promise you’ll feel better once you get out of bed. You’re just tired, but—“

  He sat upright in a jolt, cutting my words short, especially when his hard eyes connected with mine. They were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept a wink.

  “You’re right, I am tired. Too tired to listen to your sunshiney bullshit. So, if you want to go hiking, go. I’m not leaving this bed.”

  My nose flared, eyes tingling, but I sniffed back the thought of crying just as regret slipped over Emery’s face. Clearing my throat, I stood, gathering the backpack he’d bought in Colorado and packing a couple of bottles of water in it along with a few protein bars.

  He sighed behind me, flopping back into the bed. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t today, okay?”

  I peered at him over my shoulder, but his eyes were on the ceiling, and even though I was hurt, my heart ached for him. All I wanted was to help, to make everything better, but I knew I couldn’t. The battle was inside his head, and I couldn’t help fight from the outside.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly. “Would it be okay if I left Kalo with you, then? It would probably be hard to do a tour with her, and she’s a pretty good cuddle buddy, if you want one.”

  Emery didn’t look at me, but he nodded, his eyes still glued to the ceiling as I strapped the bag onto my shoulders.

  “I’ll see you later.” And with that, I kissed Kalo’s head and slipped out the door, leaving him alone in the dark room.

  I wanted so badly to spend the day with him, to laugh with him, to talk with him… especially about what happened in Colorado. But I couldn’t force him to talk, and I couldn’t force him to be okay. Like Nora said, sometimes I just needed to be patient with him — and this was one of those times.

  So, I shook him from my thoughts as I checked with the concierge on which hikes he recommended. Deciding I wanted to do the Skywalk more than anything, I signed up for the Grand Canyon West Tour, and a shuttle scooped me up from the hotel a short half hour later.

  I used the time on the shuttle to text Tammy, letting her know I was still alive. I told her I had stories for her and she freaked out, making me promise to call her as soon as I could. Then, I checked my social media, which reminded me again how lame my life back home was when I had a whole ten notifications — most of them from Lily tagging me in memes. When I tucked my phone back in the front pocket of the backpack and looked up as the shuttle pulled to a stop, I gasped.

  For a second I just sat there, even as the other passengers around me started shuffling off the bus, cameras at the ready. When I finally stood, it was like I was in a trance, my feet moving me out the door on autopilot while my eyes adjusted.

  There was a reason they called it the Grand Canyon.

  It was grand. There was no better word for it.

  The depth of it, the magnitude — it was breathtaking. I couldn’t see it all, couldn’t take it all in at once, so I just stood there, eyes grazing each and every inch of the canyons while the cool Arizona breeze whipped through my hair.

  “Amazing, right?” a soft voice said from my right, and I turned to find a girl about my age, maybe a little older, smiling back at me. She had fire-red hair and freckles lining her cheeks, with blue aviator glasses hiding her eyes and a friendly smile aimed right at me.

  “It’s… I don’t have words.”

  “I know. This is my second time here. I did the south bend last time, but I had to come do the Skywalk.” She pulled a bottle of water from the side pouch of her bag, taking a sip. “I’m Zoey.”

  “Cooper.”

  She smiled. “Want to be hiking buddies today? I heard there are some picnic tables down this way if we want to venture along the edge for a while. Do the skywalk last? I’ve been driving alone for a few days and would love some company.”

  Zoey seemed so genuine, the way she smiled and waited for my answer, and truthfully, I didn’t want to be alone that day, either. So, I nodded, offering her a smile of my own as I pulled the straps of my backpack tighter.

  “Actually, that would be great. The friend I’m with is…” My voice faded. “He’s not feeling well, so I came out by myself today.”

  “It’s kismet then,” she conceded, then she looped her arm in mine and tugged me toward the canyon.

  And so I set off with my new friend, and the great day I’d been feeling that morning in yoga started to bloom, even if it was without Emery.

  Zoey loved to talk — even more than me. We were quite the pair, jabbering the entire time as we walked the edge of the canyon, pausing here and there to take photos. I found out Zoey was from a small town, too — in Rhode Island, of all places — and she left as soon as she turned eighteen. She’d been traveling the country ever since, writing a travel blog to sustain herself. It was fascinating, hearing about her loyal readers and supporters. I pulled up the site when we stopped at a picnic table, bookmarking it to explore later.

  “So, you just started writing about the local places in your home state,” I said, scrolling through one of her posts on her blog. “And people started following? And then requesting places they wanted you to go?”

  She nodded, biting off a big hunk of an oat bar. “Mm-hmm. It started with them wanting me to come to their towns, to little places they loved, and then they started picking places on the map. Before I knew it, they were donating on my website to help sustain me, and then when I put together my first book, they were rabid. Since then, I’ve started doing pod casts and motivational speaking. It’s crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t lived in the same place for longer than three months since I turned twenty-one.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, trying to imagine what that would be like. I was in awe just from what I’d seen since leaving Mobile and crossing six states. What would it be like to travel the world?

  Zoey told me about her first trip to Europe, about how she fell in love for the first time with a German university student. She told me about their first kiss in front of the remains of the Berlin Wall, and I teared up a little as her eyes glossed over, the memory leaving her lips and finding my ears. It was magical, just like my first kiss with Emery, but she had only known him for two weeks before she was off to the next place.

  “I fell in love with him, even though I knew I’d be leaving,” she confessed. “I’ve never been scared of love, of feelings, of falling hopelessly for another human being. Yes, it hurts to leave, or to lose it, but it’s also amazing to live it. It’s worth it, to me, to have the experience.”

  When we started our hike back to the Skywalk, I also learned that Zoey had had several boyfriends all around the world, and she
told me about each of them, showing me pictures on her phone. I loved listening to her stories of how she met them, of their time together, of how they kept in touch when she left. Some of them she sees when she passes through their cities, some of them are married now, and some of them fell apart when she left.

  One thing was for sure — Zoey was no stranger to boys or the messes that came with them.

  Maybe that was why I tossed through every question I had for her as we neared the Skywalk, and when we were waiting for our turn to go out, I kicked at the dirt, a little nervous.

  “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.

  Scratch that — she was naked.
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  I held it up with wide eyes, and Emery laughed from the seat beside me as I freaked out and flicked the card away from me, letting it float down to the floor board. Narrowing my eyes at him, I punched his arm playfully, and the smile fell from his face just as the light turned green. Now that I was looking at him, I couldn’t stop — not with the lights shining over him, casting him in a different colored glow every second that we drove, his hair blowing back behind him with the top down.

  He was coming back.

  Or, so I thought.

  We checked into the Cosmopolitan, which was right in the center of the strip, and I nearly ran into Emery six times as I looked around at the casino, the high-hanging chandeliers, the shops, the glamour. Kalo seemed lost with me, the two of us stumbling around like we were hypnotized as Emery led us in confidence. It was absolutely unreal, and though Emery fit right in with his fashionable sweater and designer jeans, I was still in yoga pants and an oversized long-sleeve shirt, and I felt completely out of place.

  Emery ripped his bag open as soon as we were in the room, and I got Kalo set up with her bed, food, and water, turning to Emery just as he reached back for the neck of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head. Heat tinged my cheeks, and I pulled my hair over my shoulder, twirling it in my fingers as I looked around the room — at literally anything but his bare, toned back.

  It was stunning and modern, with a glass shower right between our room and the bathroom, a long chaise with a view of the large windows overlooking the strip, and a wide balcony. I ran my fingers along the plush purple runners at the edge of the bed before opening the sliding glass door and stepping out into the night, the breeze sweeping up from the strip and taking my hair with it.

  Kalo came out to enjoy the view with me, and I tucked my arms tight around my middle, teeth chattering just a bit. It had been warm driving in the desert, but now that the sun had set, it was in the fifties, a dry kind of cold.

  “I’m going out,” Emery said, and when I turned to find him standing in the doorway, I froze.

  His hair that was so messy from the wind in the car was tamed, combed over in a stylish wave, the sandy blond strands framing his golden eyes. His jaw was set, hands resting comfortably in the front pockets of his beige dress pants, a wintergreen button up hugging the muscles of his arms and drawing my attention to where the top few buttons were left undone. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the whole outfit made him look casual yet completely put together. He was a walking GQ model.