Chapter 26
All The Way
A day has passed, and my ex-boyfriend and I haven't talked yet. My luggage is already set – I'm already set. In just 3 hours, my parents and I will be flying to France. Despite the fact that I know we're already broken up, my head keeps turning left and right, and my eyes are searching for him, for any sign of him, even though I know that he's not going to come and say good-bye. Hell, even a text message he can't send me any. Plus he doesn't know that I'll be flying to France to see my grandma one last time before she gets buried six feet down in earth.
I have tagged him on my contact as ex-boyfriend, because that he's already my ex. We're over. My story with him is over. But I still want him, my heart still aches for him, and even though I know that he's now just a supporting character in this story of mine (and Dustin is becoming the main character, along with me), I still keep hoping that perhaps the author of my life is planning something that will put him back in place, to be in my arms again.
"Are you okay?" My mother asks me as she gives me a worried look, a face that puts crease and wrinkles in her forehead and the edges of her beautiful eyes, that mirror mine. I give her a weak smile, and nod. She's my mother – of course she knows that I'm not okay. She just wants me to open up at her, to tell her what I'm feeling. But the truth is: I don't know what to feel anymore. "If something is bugging you, you can tell me, you know that, right?" I nod. She gives me a kiss on my forehead, and I shut my eyes. There's a lot of things bugging me, and I don't know how to begin. So I just keep my lips sealed, and never open them, not until I'm in France, looking at my Mémère's face while she's lying peacefully in a coffin.
My mother looks away, and my eyes focus in the distance. The airport is a bit crowded; they keep milling back and forth, and I have to shut my eyes just because looking at them makes me dizzy. I fist my hands, so hard that it turns white.
It feels like my heart is about to explode, and I can't do anything about it. I tell my parents that I'll just go to the restroom, and they give me a nod. I immediately stand up, and head to the nearest restroom that I'd find. The restroom is just along the corner – the restroom has a huge sign, so I head there. There are just a couple of guys inside the restroom: 4 guys. Two guys are checking themselves out in the mirror while the other two are pissing. I'm glad that they're not using the cubicle. I head inside the cubicle, and grab tissue (lots of tissue), rolling them downwards, and place them on the toilet. I take a seat, and cry my eyes out. I try to be silent as much as possible, but for tears that keep pouring out, it makes me hiccup.
One of the guy must have heard, because he knocks on the cubicle door and asks me if I'm okay, and I don't respond. Eventually I stop crying, and it took me fifteen minutes just to stop crying. I pull out my cellphone in my pocket, and text Gloss.
Gloss and I haven't been hanging out for a very long time. After the jocks' graduation, it seemed like we just took separate ways. It felt weird to me, because I still loved him, and I decided to be far away from him as much as possible. It was because I still loved him, and for my love to fade away, I kept my distance. When I pull out my cellphone, I hastily pull up the Contacts application and search for his name. Gloss. Then I text him: I'm going to Paris. Sorry. I should have told you when I received the news.
He immediately responses: why are you going to paris??
I text back: grandma just died. Dad talked to the principal and mr. sky and i'd receive my assignments and lessons through email. i'll be back soon
He replies after a couple of seconds: damn you. you should have told me earlier. take care and condolence. this sucks. where are you rn?
Airport.
message me once you land. either through messenger or text, or whatever the hell there is to inform me, do it. i'd hate you if you don't. i miss you and derek. once you get back we should hang out.
okay. bye. just texted you to let you know and i'm sorry.
I shut the screen of my phone off, and feel it vibrate, indicating that I've gotten another response from Gloss, inside my pocket and get out of the cubicle. I turn on the faucet, and stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are rimmed and red – it's obvious that I've cried. I splash my face with the cold water a couple of times, and gargle. Once done I decide I should get back to my seat before my parents go to one of the Helpdesk in the airport and inform the staff that their son is missing.
Once I get back, my parents look at me, and they focus on staring at my face. I turn my head slightly, just so they won't see how rimmed my eyes are from crying. I take a seat, pull out my phone in my pocket as well as the earphones, and plug the earphones in my ear and then plug the jack in my phone's jack slot. I set it to random and hit play, and Charlie Puth's voice comes blasting through the earphones in my ear.
The music keeps playing in my ears; minutes have passed, and minutes turn to hours, and then it's time to fly. My phone vibrates, and Dustin's face and number pops up on the screen. I answer the call. "Hey."
"Take care," he says, almost a whisper. His voice sounds ragged, as if he has been running wildly, like a panther. We listen to each other breathe. I feel like he wants to say something more. "Come back home soon."
"I will," I promise and smile, as if he can see me.
"Call me once you land," he says. His voice, though soft and calm, tells me that I should do what he says. It's not really demanding, but there's something in his voice that makes me agree.
"I will," I say. "Promise."
"Sleep while you're on a plane ride,"
"I will,"
"And make sure you eat a lot once you land, after calling me,"
"I will,"
"I will miss you,"
"I will," I say, chuckling, "miss you, too."
The line clicks shut, and a smile graces my lips.
I sleep throughout the journey.