Accidental Notes: A Novel
Chapter 40
Adaya in the Air
Not sure what this story is? The synopsis is available here.
Catch up on chapter 39 here.
I clutch the paper in my hands. I can’t look at Grayson and I can’t open the note.
“I’m sorry. It was cheesy of me to do this, so I can just…”
He reaches for the paper. I hold it tighter. “Absolutely not. I’m celebrating. You wrote something down for me.”
The blush that spreads across his face is as familiar now as his hugs. “I did.”
Dad chooses that moment to interrupt us. He hovers next to me like he’s taller. Like he’s still capable of intimidating me. But he’s the farthest thing from my mind. “You should get through security soon.”
I have two hours and thirty-four minutes before my plane takes off. I don’t need to get to my gate, but he probably wants to get away from me. He drank too recently to drive, though. I know that. “Just a minute.” I don’t wait for an answer before lugging my suitcase and the note to a table just outside the restaurant. Grayson follows me. Dad doesn’t. I settle into my seat, the note held up in front of me, even though it doesn’t make sense to keep it private from Grayson. I want to forget about everything but the words on this page.
Adaya,
Seeing you again… if I told you exactly how much it meant to me, I’d probably scare you away. I’m so glad your audition went well. I’m glad you’ll be accompanying the choir. I hope I get this shot at camp, but even if I don’t, I will keep trying. You make me want to try. To plan something to see how it turns out. Like my music. Like us.
I fold it as carefully as I can and put it in the pocket at the back of my new bullet journal, then reach for Grayson’s hands. “I know how much I say I like rules and structures and plans, but we don’t have to make it official. If you’re worried about what happens if we label it — ”
“I’m not worried. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I know who I want with me while I find out. I know I wasn’t part of your plan — ”
“None of the best things are.” As much as it said that he wrote me a note, I don’t need to write this down for it to be real. “Let’s try this. Maybe you can come down to California a few days early, once you make it into camp like I know you will. Plus, I’ve got a wedding to attend this spring, and there’s only one person I want to be my date.”
Before he has a chance to answer me, a hand presses down too hard on my shoulder. I start, my heartbeat too fast, my senses aware. But I turn around and it’s just Dad. “We should head back. You’ve got it from here?”
“Are you sure that’s smart? I saw — ”
“I’m fine. It will be better to go before the pass gets icy.”
I wish he didn’t see the absence of Brennan when he looked at me. I wish I’d found the father I’d hoped to reconnect with. But at least I found the truth of who he is. “Let me say goodbye to Grayson. Please.”
“That isn’t what you were doing?”
“One goodbye won’t be enough.”
Grayson stands up and takes my hand in his. “Hate to be the one to tell you, but we’re going to have a lot of goodbyes.”
“I know. This is one thing I really don’t want to have to practice.” I fold myself into him. I need to make sure he understands how important he is to me. “Thank you. For everything. For being there for me. I wouldn’t have gotten the part without you. This trip wouldn’t have been the same without you. It wouldn’t have been worth it. Keep playing. Keep writing. And, hopefully, I’ll see you this spring.”
“We have a lot of planning to do if we want that to happen.”
I shrug. “Too bad you’re dating someone who hates making plans.” He kisses my forehead. I kiss his cheek.
Dad doesn’t offer me a private goodbye. Just a “See you later, Munchkin” that I don’t acknowledge. We both know it’s a lie. He walks away without another glance.
I’m through security before I know it, browsing the bookstore. Texting Mom to let her know I’m at the airport and my flight will be on time.
Adaya: I’ll be home soon! I’m at the airport. Dad and Grayson already left.
Riley: Aaaaand???
Adaya: Correction. Dad and my boyfriend already left.
Riley: I. Knew. It. Details in person pleeeeeease I’m gonna need them. Date tomorrow? You and me? Lunch and a movie?
Adaya: I can’t wait.
I buy a journal and the novel Grayson said was his best read of the year, find my gate, and settle in to the story. You learn so much about someone by the stories that speak to them, and I feel a little bit less like he’s driving away from me as I read.
Before I know it, it’s time to board, and I return to 19F, the same seat I had a few weeks ago when I flew here. I sit beside an older couple, maybe in their sixties, who smile at me. “Is this your first time flying alone?” the woman asks me. “If you need anything, we’re here.”
I sit down and face her before I pull out my backpack. “I’ve got this, but thanks for asking. I flew out here alone a few weeks ago. And now it’s time to go home.”
“Well, just in case. I’m Barbara. This is my husband, Richard. We’re celebrating our fortieth wedding anniversary.”
“Forty years already? I thought this was our honeymoon,” Richard jokes. The two of them laugh entirely in sync. An inside joke probably as old as their marriage. This is what a family looks like, I think.
We take off. I pull out my bullet journal for the new year and begin to write. Oregon then California scroll by below me. I don’t watch, not until fireworks fill the sky below us.
“Happy New Year,” Barbara says. She raises the plastic cup of champagne she ordered, clinks it silently against her husband’s, then against my sparkling cider. “May it bring you every joy and happiness.”
“Same to you,” I say, returning her toast and drinking.
I have no idea what this year will hold for me. I don’t know how to have a relationship at all, let alone one that will be long distance. I don’t know if I’ll be good at accompanying a choir, or if I’ll enjoy it. I don’t know what it will be like having a stepfather, especially not one like Mr. Gutierrez, who sees me when he looks at me instead of someone else.
Everything is up in the air, but I think that’s okay. It’s like confetti. Like fireworks. Like stars.
The end