CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
JORDAN
The cemetery is empty as I walk through the big stone entrance for the second time in two days. But this time is different. This time, my stomach isn’t roiling, and my palms aren’t sweaty. My throat isn’t dry, and my pulse isn’t hammering in my ears. This time, I can appreciate the early evening sunshine and the warm summer air. The sprawling lawns and rolling hills.
It’s peaceful. Comforting, almost.
I spent two years dreading the thought of coming here, sure that if I did, I would crumble again and never be able to put myself back together. Instead, it was the opposite of that. Being here yesterday healed a part of me I thought would be broken forever, and whatever it was had me getting into my car and driving here again, needing to come one more time before I go back to New York.
As I walk slowly up the path towards Allie’s grave, my thoughts aren’t on Allie, but on the reason I gathered the courage to come here at all. When I walked through the gates yesterday and felt the unmistakable and uncontrollable urge to run, it was Jo’s face I pictured. Her sparkling eyes that are full of mischief more often than not, and the grin that spreads over her face whenever we’re together. Her excitement about everything and her happy energy and the serious look on her face when she told me she thought coming here would feel good to me. That this is what living looks like.
I didn’t recognize it because it’s been so long since I lived at all, but slowly, I feel like myself again. Not the old me but a newer version. Quieter. More thoughtful. Sometimes a little sad. But someone who can still smile sometimes and laugh occasionally but maybe more as time goes on. Someone I think I could like once I get to know him all the way.
Jo is right that this is what living looks like. After two years, I’m finally alive again.
Because of her.
Jo Evans blew into my life like a hurricane and changed everything. She makes me feel like life isn’t over because the one I had planned for myself isn’t possible anymore. Like there’s still something waiting out there for me, even though I’ve spent the last two years hiding from everything and everyone.
Never did I ever expect that I would have feelings for anyone again. I was sure that part of me died with Allie. But something shifted during movie night and again in the car in front of Hallie and Ben’s house. If Hannah hadn’t banged on the window, I would have kissed Jo. I wanted to kiss her—more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.
I like her. Her energy and her enthusiasm about everything and the way she gets me to do things I would never ordinarily do. The way she encourages me to talk about Allie and doesn’t want me to be anyone except for who I am. The way she smells like cupcakes and calls me J and has me putting tiny scarves on a plastic dinosaur and drinking coffee out of an open mug while walking down the sidewalk. Everything about her pulls me right in.
And that scares the shit out of me.
Because I don’t think I’m ready. I know loss, and the idea of opening myself up to that again actually does make my palms sweat. I live in New York, and in two months, Jo’s coming back here. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and even the thought of fucking that up makes my stomach clench. I still don’t know if I’ll be any good for anyone. She has a career she loves, and I have a job I hate and spend every day regretting the fact that I walked away from the career that meant so much to me.
Make another rash decision, Jordan? What did I tell you about cutting that shit out?
I hear Allie’s voice in my head as clearly as if she spoke the words directly to me, and when I look up, I realize I’m standing right in front of her grave.
“That always did drive you crazy,” I say with a smirk as I sit down cross-legged on the grass. When I came here yesterday, I thought it would feel weird and a little morbid to talk to a tombstone, and maybe it did at first, but then it didn’t. It felt good. Healing almost.
I sigh, propping my elbows on my knees. “I hate general surgery. Fucking hate it. It was a rash decision to leave peds, but I was running from everything that reminded me of you. Being in that hospital where there were memories of us around every corner was too fucking hard. But then I realized just existing reminded me of you, so it didn’t matter where I was. I’m fucked up. Or, I was. I’m less fucked up now. At least I think I am.”
Give me all the gossip, Jord.
I smile again, remembering how she used to say that to me whenever I got home from somewhere she wasn’t. Gossip was the thing we loved to do most.
I take a deep breath and blow it out. “I made a new friend this summer. The thing is though, baby girl, I think maybe she might be more than a friend, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. Remember the first time we saw each other? I was a fourth-year surgical resident, and you were the new attending who was technically my boss and fuck, Al, the second I laid eyes on you it was like fireworks exploded in my brain. I know it was the same for you. We burned so fast and so hot, and it never, ever cooled. I think we would have been fire forever.”
My breath hitches a little, and tears burn my eyes at the memory. I let them fall, and for the first time in two years, my tears feel healthy. Healing, somehow, instead of gut wrenching. It feels right that Allie is the first to know about my feelings for Jo. That I can start to work them out with her.
“It’s different with Jo. That’s who it is. Jo Evans, Hallie’s sister. Although maybe you know that already. I wasn’t looking for a friend, but she found me and refused to let go. It’s not hot and fast this time. It’s slower. Steadier.”
I chuckle through the tears that keep tracking down my cheeks, remembering those early days with Allie. It was crazy and unhinged and nothing about it felt steady. Steady came later. “But the rightness of it? That’s familiar. We felt right. Jo feels right too. I can’t explain it, the same way I couldn’t explain it with you. It just is. And it scares me shitless.”
I tell Allie everything. I talk for what feels like hours, and when I’m finally done, the sun is sinking low in the sky, darkness is falling, and I feel lighter than I have in days. I can feel my phone buzzing, and even though I’m almost positive it’s my group chat with the guys all wondering where I am since I was supposed to be at Jeremy’s house half an hour ago, I can’t ignore the part of me that hopes it’s Jo texting, even to just talk about nothing.
Because talking to her, even about nothing, is my favorite everything.
I stand, brushing my jeans off.
“Thanks for the talk. I miss you, baby girl. I hope the gossip’s good wherever you are.”
I take a couple steps forward, running a hand over the gravestone, still warm from the summer sun. I’m just about to leave when something on the ground on the other side of the grave catches my eye. Circling the stone, I bend and stare at the little pile of Fireballs on the base of the stone, sitting on top of a handwritten note on a pink, heart shaped Post-It.
Jordan told me Fireballs were your favorite.
