“How does what work?” I answer, not all sure where this conversation is headed. “Flying? Airplanes? What?”
“Knox,” she says, narrowing things down a bit. “Like, I’m guessing you don’t fly coach with the rest of us mere mortals. And if you’re in first class, do you not have to worry about being recognized? Are they all celebrities in there? Or are you going to be busting out your grocery store disguise for the trip. You know, baseball cap and sunglasses. Super mysterious but still totally recognizable.”
We park and Knox unbuckles, then turns in his seat until he can look at her. “For your information, I fly coach regularly. I don’t really care where I’m sitting on an airplane, all I do is sleep while I’m there anyway, and thanks to my early years of touring in an old Jeep with four other dudes while pulling a little, shitty old trailer with all our gear from town to town and no money for hotels, I can sleep literally anywhere.”
She makes a face, unwilling to concede but clearly realizing her assumptions were a bit off.
He pokes at her playfully, “And my grocery store disguise does just fine, Miss Know It All.”
This one, she’s definitely not buying. “People never recognize you while you’re traveling.” It’s not even a question. More like a dare.
“Some do.” He shrugs. “But so what? All they want is a quick selfie. Maybe I sign something. I don’t mind and they walk away happy. And best of all, I don’t have to walk around with a paperbag over my head to hide my identity at the standards you deem appropriate.”
She tries to sigh, but it just comes out as half a laugh. “Fine. I guess you have this rock star business sorted out, and apparently, it’s way less glamorous than I thought.” She opens the door to climb out.
Knox is already doing the same.
I’m the last one out, but I still join them in time to see their antics continue.
“You’ve been hanging out with me for days, you should know by now I don’t do glamorous,” he teases her.
She reaches up to flick at his hat. “No kidding. This old thing is about as far from glam as you could get. You make like a gazillion dollars, how worn out does it have to be before you spring for a new one?”
“Hey!” He reaches up to adjust his cap and pull it on tighter. “I’ll have you know I love this old worn-out cap. And I would get a new one, except they discontinued this design. So, I can’t.”
I shake my head at both of them. “Think you two can pull it together before we walk in? Or are you two going to squabble with each other the whole way to security?”
Knox and Sloan just shrug, bouncing into each other while they walk, and laughing every few steps.
I smile at the sight. I also swallow down a giant lump attempting to climb my throat and break free in a wave of emotion I will never gain control of if it succeeds. So, I don’t let it escape. I force it down. Over and over. Until we’re inside.
Knox checked in online already and since he left his loaner guitar behind at my place (for now), he has nothing outside of his backpack for luggage, so there’s not much to do but head straight for the security check.
Which sucks.
So much more than I allowed myself to think it would.
I should have been actively dreading this moment, mentally preparing myself instead of denying it, and avoiding every thought and feeling related to it at all costs.
“That was way fast,” Sloan mumbles when we reach airport security and the place where we part ways. I think the reality of this moment has caught her off guard as well. “We never drop anyone off this fast.”
“Everyone else always has luggage to check,” I point out the major difference here. “But everything else is the same.” I try my best to keep my voice as even as I can. “We’re going to hug Knox goodbye. We’re going to tell him we love him. And then we’re going to watch him walk through security and we’re going to stand here and wave until we can’t see him anymore. And then, we’ll feel a little sad and we’ll go get tea and coffee, and maybe a giant cookie if we’re a little extra sad, and then we’ll go home.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer. “We’ll mope around a bit, talk about how empty the house feels now, and then we’ll go to bed. And tomorrow, we’ll wake up to Brinna whining because she’s bored and wants to go out. Someone will bark to remind me about breakfast. The coffee maker will make that dripping sound I love. And just like that, the house won’t feel empty or quiet anymore.”
“You make it sound like Knox can be replaced by a bunch of noise, most of which you find annoying first thing in the morning.”
“Not the coffee maker though.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And your mom’s right,” Knox steps in. “All that normal noise will be comfortable. Familiar. Even if things feel a little different.”
Sloan reaches for him, wrapping both arms around his torso and pressing the side of her face to him. “I liked it better when we talked about you coming back,” she says quietly. “I knowplans change. I could adjust to changing plans. I’d still rather we had one.”
He holds her just as tight, bending down to kiss the top of her head. “It won’t always be like this. It’s just new. And we’re still figuring things out. And yeah, it sucks that you’re stuck in the middle of it, dealing with our decisions, but I’m also really glad you’re stuck in the middle of all of it. So, I can’t be sorry. I’m sorry it sucks, but I’m not sorry you’re stuck in this situation that sucks.”
She sighs. “I’m not sorry either.”
Gradually, she starts to untangle herself.
