Where she's stood on the side of the curb—dressed in a white sleeveless cotton top and a pair of blue denims—Stella gazes out at the bustle of the airport drop-off spot.
Her hair flutters lightly against her bare, sun-kissed shoulders in the windy September heat and she shoots her black leather tote a glance—even though she already knows she'll see the soft, gray knitted fabric stick out of it—to make sure she's remembered to pack a sweater for the flight.
All around her, there's life: a family of seven hauling suitcases behind them as they make their way toward the main entrance of this terminal, further away a couple are bidding each other goodbye. A lone man whirls around on his toes, neck stretched and chin raised—as if he's trying to figure out exactly where he needs to be. People move in and out of the automatic circular doors. Some harried-looking, quick on their feet. Others take their sweet time, seeming to be in no rush at all.
Angling her face toward the early morning light, Stella draws in deep breath.
The inhale is easy: gathering all that air into her lungs. She holds it there for a moment—the same way she would've had she been deep beneath the surface of a pool, or the lake.
Then—she exhales just as freely, a lightness to her chest.
"Holy–," Next to her, Faye slams the back of her truck closed as she sets Stella's pink 29" suitcase down between them. Her mouth forms an 'O', cheeks sucked in, as she lets out an exaggerated breath. "That's heavy."
Stella frowns, regarding the bag. "Not additional-fee-heavy. Right?"
"No," Pushing her sunglasses up into her hair—the brown strands pulled back into a haphazardly twisted together bun at the back of her head—, revealing her red-rimmed, tearstained eyes, Faye waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. "No that should be fine."
"Okay," Stella nods, a tight knot slowly beginning to curl at the pit of her stomach. "Good."
She sets her tote—stacked to the brim with a few of her most essential things, including travel sized bottles of her favorite skincare products as well as two swimsuits, just in case her checked bag gets lost on the way—down atop the suitcase.
Weighing back on her heels, she lets her lips slip into a small smile. She's doing this—she's really doing it.
It feels like it was only yesterday she was stood at the edge of the dock that first morning at the lake house, yet it seems so far away she can barely believe it's only been a few months.
That morning, with the faint sounds of the lake around her—the birds chirping, the reeds rustling in the water, the wooden planks creaking underneath her feet—she'd glanced out at the sky and found promises. Promises of new beginnings. Of an escape.
Now, she's about to board a plane and set off on yet another new adventure. Another fresh start. But in her heart—where the hot, heavy sadness used to press against her sternum—she no longer feels the need to escape. Or start over. Not really.
This time, she's running towards something: an opportunity, a future. Back in June, no matter what she tried to tell herself, she was running away.
She's not exactly sure when the latter shifted into the former, but if there's one thing she's certain of, it's that her summer in Blue Windflower Lake had a lot—if not everything—to do with it.
They'd all been right. Angelina and Geoffrey, Faye, her moms, Ms Flores. A summer at the lake house had been exactly what she needed. And though she only left a few days ago to go home, do her laundry and re-pack, she already misses it.
Achingly so.
And she misses Jake. A lot.
She lets out a small sigh, wiping her palms over the fabric of her jeans as she opens her mouth, about to speak—say I guess this is it—as Faye beats her to it, in her own way.
"Okay," Faye breathes through a forced exhale, lips curling into a small smile—though it does little to conceal the sadness etched into her features. "Do you have everything?"
"I think so yeah," Stella tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. "At least everything I need until moms get there."
Her mothers are planned to arrive with the rest of her things in two weeks when they're visiting, making sure she's settling in okay before taking her with them as they fly back. Or well, not back, exactly. But Stella's going with them as they leave, only for a couple of days, to Hartford and then Appleton, Connecticut.
Faye nods, then lets out a light laugh—aimed at herself—as she wipes furiously at her eyes and the fresh trail of tears running down her cheeks. With a sniffle, she swivels her eyes skyward, "Sorry."
Swallowing back a faint burn in her throat, Stella blinks back tears of her own. "Stop. If you start then I'll start. And then I'll be a blubbering mess the entire flight—and I don't think anyone wants to see that."
Faye lets out another small laugh, wiping at her runny nose before holding her arms out wide, enveloping Stella in a tight hug. Stella slides her arms around her sister's waist, returning the embrace with just as firm a grip.
"Promise you'll call," Faye says. "Even if it's in the middle of the night. If you need me, or even if you don't, call."
"Only if you promise you'll visit."
Faye nods against her shoulder, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I promise."
"Good, I do too."
Sighing, Faye hugs her tighter. "I'm going to miss you so much," Then she steps back, palms lingering on Stella's arms. "You've got everything ready for check-in?"
Amusement tugs at Stella's lips. "You're babying me."
"Well... Do you?"
Stella nods. "Yes."
"Good."
A beat of silence passes between them, their lips pressed together as they simply stare at one another. They've been through this a few times before by now—the moving away, the shared realization they won't be mere minutes apart from each other at any given time anymore. Still, it doesn't make it any easier.
Tears prickle at Stella's eyes, and she forces a breath through her airways as the tight knot in her stomach reappears, growing bigger.
Faye, who always seem to be able to read her mind, gives her arms a gentle squeeze. "It's going to be great. You're going to be great."
And then, she pulls Stella into another hug.
Laughing, Stella says, "You have to let me go or I'll miss my flight."
It's not exactly true; they haven't wavered from their agenda even once all throughout the morning but she's afraid if she spends one more second stood here with Faye she might just fall to her knees and beg her sister to bring her back home.
Which would be a mistake, considering—despite the nauseating nerves fluttering against her ribcage in this very moment—she's looking forward to her move.
She's excited to dive back into the pool and return to the lanes, excited to be part of a team again. She misses the early morning practices. She misses getting lost in her further readings, or a documentary—or occasionally, in her textbooks—late at night, during an hour where, maybe, she should've already gone to bed. She's even looking forward to days spent cramming before exams. Though, in a few months' time she's pretty certain she'll regret ever letting that last thought pass through her mind.
Simply put, she misses life—in all its colors.
Faye's hold tightens. "There'll be more flights."
Stella lets out a chortled breath. "Faye."
"Okay okay," Faye takes a step back, and then another, hugging her arms around herself as she lets out a sigh-sounding exhale. "I understand why you want to start over all the way over there—and I'm happy for you, I am—but, selfishly, I wish you didn't have to."
"I'll be back before you know it."
"What if you love it so much you want to stay there for the rest of your life?"
"Eh," Stella sweeps her hand through the air in a gesture that could mean anything. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it, but I don't think you have to worry; I love far too many people on this coast to move away forever."
"Okay, good," Faye purses her lips to the side. "Because I need you."
"You need me? I need you," Stella pauses, shooting a glance at her suitcase as she raises a brow. "Actually, maybe you'd fit in there."
Faye smiles, slowly shaking her head. She nudges her sunglasses back into place at the bridge of her nose. "Give me a call as soon as you land, okay?"
"You're the first on my list—don't tell moms."
Letting out a chortled breath, Faye's smile softens. "I would never. See you soon Stellie-tubbies."
"See you soon," Stella reaches for the handle of her suitcase, closing her fingers around it tightly; her thoughts momentarily drift to Appleton, and how in a matter of weeks she'll be back in the clean-smelling halls of that courthouse. Pausing, she slants her head. "You'll be there, right?"
Faye doesn't need any further explanation to know what's on her sister's mind. "Of course," She places her palm atop Stella's, brows slightly etched together. "Of course, I'll be there."
"Okay, good," Stella lets her gaze rest on a group of friends passing them by, their chatter slipping into the air, before turning back to Faye. "Got any final sisterly advice?"
"Don't phrase it like that! I'll hear from you in a few hours."
"So... nothing?"
"Don't forget to stay hydrated; drink water."
"That's it?"
"Well," Faye lifts her shoulder in a shrug. "Yeah."
Then, with an audible exhale, and another glance over her shoulder at Faye, Stella walks through the automatic rotating door and into the airy hall of the terminal.
Instantly hit with the sweet chill of the AC, she pauses. A flutter of anticipation beats against her chest as she thinks of her next destination, having her cheeks round with a smile.
A lot of things in her life are still uncertain; she has no idea what her upcoming testimony will lead to, she's yet to meet her new therapist—but she hopes Ms Flores is right in believing they'll be a good fit, she's barely spoken to her new roommate, Amira, but from the few words they've exchanged over text she seems friendly enough.
As for her past, she's still on her path to healing. Sometimes the process feels excruciatingly slow, but still, there's a sense of newfound peace within her. It'll take her the time it takes, and that's okay.
And through the hard times, those moments and days where even the ticking sound of a clock becomes a nuisance, she has her loved ones to fall back on. Her moms. Her sister. Jake. Even Jessica—who she managed to squeeze in a girls' day with before she left for the city, and who she's already promised she'll return to visit next summer.
Now, looking to her left and then to her right in an attempt to navigate herself, Stella hauls her tote onto her shoulder, clutching her suitcase tighter and—the soles of her sandals clicking against the floor—makes her way through the stream of fellow travelers.
She's only just stepped into line to check her bag as her phone buzzes in her back pocket, having her lips slip into a knowing smile. It's Jake. He told her as they spoke last night he'd text her as soon as he woke up.
Still, she lets her phone be. She has plenty of time before she's supposed to board her flight. As soon as she's made it past this grueling line and security, she's planning on finding herself a sugar donut and, maybe, a magazine. Then, as she can finally relax, she'll give him a call.
And from the way her heartbeat quickens now, small—ridiculous—butterfly wings fluttering against her ribcage at the thought of hearing his voice, she knows she won't be hanging up until she has to set foot on that plane.