Chapter Ten

    Grayson

    I feel like I’m ripping my own heart out of my chest when I agree to go with Meadow on her family road trip. I feel like I’m intruding, especially when her family hasn’t spent much quality time together, but her mother assured me that I’m part of the family and though her father isn’t happy with me, he squeezed my shoulder and thanked me. For what, I’m not entirely sure.

      “What exit to we take, Meadow?” her father asks, looking at her in the rear-view mirror. He’s driving his silver convertible which Meadow tells me he never lets the family in unless it’s a family vacation. She’s surprised that we’re allowed inside.

      Meadow pushes her over-sized sunglasses higher on her nose and opens the road map with a snap. “It’s the second one on the right. We have about five minutes until we get to it,” she says, completely sure of her words.

      “When did you get so good with a map?” Her mother turns around in her seat and smiles, making her red lipstick look brighter. “I didn’t know you could read them.”

      Meadow shrugs. “We did a project on it in Geography a few years ago. I guess I enjoyed it.”

      It turns out that Meadow has always wanted to see the Grand Canyon. I’ve never been, but my mother said I had when she was pregnant with me, but I don’t think that counts. My best friend clutches her digital camera in her lap, lifting it over the map when she wants to snap pictures of things we drive past. Somewhere inside me, I wonder why she does this. It’s not like she will have the pictures to look at, where she’s going. But if it makes her happy, that’s okay with me.

      Meadow grabs my hand and intertwines my fingers. She gives it a squeeze. “You okay?”

      I give her a small nod and swallow the lump in my throat. I’m more nervous than she knows. “Fine.”

      Her smile wavers, threatening to turn into a frown. “Are you sure? You look like you’re feeling sick.”

      I open my mouth slightly, willing a good response to come out. It takes a couple seconds too long and Meadow watches me with worried eyes. “I think I might just be carsick, you know, from looking at the map you’re holding.”

      Meadow nods, believing me. “You did always get sick reading in the car when we were kids.”

      We continue the rest of the drive in silence. Meadow never lets go of my hand, keeping us together and occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze. I feel her eyes on me most of the time and catch her smiling out of the corner of my eye. I refuse to look at her directly, because I’m scared that she will see what I’m thinking. I still don’t know how it’s going to work, and I can’t be more scared, but I know I’m going to do it, and today is going to be my last day with my best friend.

      “Grayson, come on,” Meadow whines when we get there. Her hand is clamped around my wrist and she’s trying to pull me out of the convertible. I guess I’m not going fast enough. “You’re wasting time!”

      She frowns until I’m standing on the dusty ground and closing the door behind me. Then her lips quickly turn upward.

      “Let’s go! I want to see as much as we can today.” She takes my hand and we jog along, catching up to her parents. Her camera jingles against her chest as she runs, the strap flying in the wind.

      The day spent with Meadow is one of the best one’s I’ve ever had. We stand looking over the canyon, taking in the view and snapping photographs. When we’re done looking we move to another spot and repeat the process, watching the orange rocks that never move.

      Meadow rests her head on my shoulder the whole way home, her dark eyelashes fluttering with every bump we go over. She’s exhausted, and her father muttered something about it being because of her heart and it makes me feel like my own is trying to escape out of my chest. It’s as if it has a mind of its own and wants to help her.

      I know I need to tell her how I feel. On one level, I know it’s going to make what I’m going to do harder for not only her, but me too. But on the other, I know I have to. I can’t leave Meadow without her knowing how I feel. It’s like keeping my heart – on an emotional level – caged and refusing to let my feelings out.  

      “Grayson,” Meadow moans as I try to wake her up in the driveway. Her parents are already on the porch, unlocking the door. Her mother is turned, clutching her purse and watching us with a small smile. She tries to do it secretly but I can see that though she looks happy, she’s still very, very sad.

      “I know you’re tired,” I reply, giving her arm a gentle tug, “but I need to tell you something. Can we go to the tracks? Please, Meadow?”

      Her eyes finally open, more for than a few seconds this time, and she blinks. The starts reflect in her eyes, making them look glassy and beautiful.

      “Fine,” she mutters, sitting up. She runs her fingers through her locks and then wipes the sleep away from her eyes with the back of her hand. “But only because I love you.”

      My heart skips a beat at how ironic this is.

      Meadow holds my hand the whole way to the tracks. Her body pressed against mine, she occasionally closes her eyes, resting against me as we walk. I stare up at the stars and then look back at her, deciding that Meadow is definitely a greater sight.

      “What do you have to tell me?” she asks for the fifth time. She doesn’t understand that I won’t let out the secret until we’re there. Even though I don’t want to tell her yet, I’m pretty sure I’m not spilling only because I’m scared to.

      “I’ll tell you in a few minutes,” I repeat, smiling slightly. “Just be patient.”

      “You know how I don’t like waiting for surprises.” Meadow frowns, sticking out her bottom lip so I can see. “Can you give me a hint? Please?”

      “Fine,” I sigh. Thinking, I pause for a few moments, trying to come up with a suitable hint.  “It’s something that I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.”

      Meadow immediately stops leaning against me and stands up straight. She smacks my arm and her mouth falls open. “Grayson! Now you have to tell me.”

      I roll my eyes and throw my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me. “We’re almost there, Meadow.”

      She stays quiet the last few moments until we reach the hill. Then, when we’re half way up it, I lay out my jacket on the grass and gesture for us to both lay in it. Meadow doesn’t question it and lies down, resting her head between my shoulder and arm.

      “Is that,” I say, pointing up into the sky, “our star?”

      A grin spreads across her face. “Yes.”

      I don’t lower my arm but gesture to the bright light again. “I’ll meet you there, okay?”

      Meadow turns to me with sad eyes, something I don’t see often. “Do you promise?”

      She doesn’t understand what I mean by meeting her there. She thinks she will be there first, waiting for me. She doesn’t know that it’s going to be the other way around.

      I smile down at my best friend and gently kiss her lips. It’s the first time we’ve ever touched like that and I didn’t even think before it happened. It just did.

      Pulling away, I hope I can dream about that kiss wherever I’m going.

      “I promise.”