Anywhere (3 page)

“Oh, don’t give me that, Skylar. Don’t put this on me. I’m not the bad guy in all this.
Forgive me
if I’m concerned about my only daughter. I
apologize
for wanting her to be safe and
alive
. What am I going to tell your brother if you are kidnapped or killed?”

That I died happy because I was far away? Okay, I couldn’t say that to her.

And I could not go home. Not now. She’d never let me lead my own life if I caved now.

“What?” I said. “Breaking up…sorry…can’t hear…go…text you…get there.” And I turned off my phone so she couldn’t call me right back.

I was an ocean away. Thank god.

I looked at the destination board again. Just pick one, Skye. The backs of my eyes were stinging and I was on the verge of tears. But I had to do this. Seriously, how hard was it to pick one? I could do this.

“Need help finding your train?”

I turned, and this guy—tall, dark blond hair, smiling blue-grey eyes, and obviously American from his accent—was looking at me.

“Nope, just my courage,” I said, and stuffed my phone back into my pocket.

He laughed. “Do you remember when you last had it?”

I turned and pointed at the doors to the station. “Back there. But it’s since disappeared.”

“Where are you headed?”

Where
was
I headed? And was it okay to tell perfect strangers where you were going? I studied him. Backpack, t-shirt and jeans, friendly, relaxed manner. Nothing menacing about him, nothing screaming
kidnapper
. In fact, he looked like me—a twenty-something backpacker.

I said the first city that popped into my head.

“Rome.” Yeah, Rome. That actually sounded like the perfect place to start. That hadn’t been so hard.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on, it’s this way.”

“I’m Asher,” he said as he took off his pack. “Do you mind?” He indicated the seat next to mine.

“As long as you’re not a serial killer.”

“Oh, nooooo. Not for a looooong time,” Asher said, and plunked himself down into the seat. “The only New Year’s Resolution that’s ever stuck.”

“THAT’s a relief,” I said, laughing. “I’m Skye.”

“Traveling solo?”

“Yeah. Plan B,” I said. “Plan A got on a plane to go home this afternoon.” My stomach tightened just thinking about it. I hoped everything went well. “You?”

“Yup, I’m on a sort of Plan B myself.” His lips formed a thin line and his eyes looked sad for a moment, then his smile broke through again like sunshine. “So, tell me about Plan A.”

Okay, so normally I’m not much of a talker. I’m not Paige—she can talk to anyone. It takes me a while to warm up to someone (except with Paige, of course—but she’s kind of the exception to everything) and I never just spill my guts. But for some reason I told him all about her. Maybe it was because I was worried about her, because she was so concretely on my mind. Or maybe I was so out of my element that I wasn’t myself. But I’ll tell you one thing, it was really nice to have someone to talk to.

“Oh, man, that’s rough,” he said after I’d finished.

“I know. I can’t even imagine.” Or maybe I could, and just really, really didn’t WANT to imagine. It could have been me in the coming year, maybe within the next few months. That thought actually made me shiver, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

Asher reached into the top of his backpack, pulled out a thin, muted orange hoodie and handed it to me. I looked at him in confusion for a moment until he said, “You’re cold, right?”

I smiled and lay it over my chest, spreading it out to cover my bare arms. It smelled like sun and wind. And I realized that I was going to be okay. If a complete stranger was being this kind after having known me for less than an hour, then everything was going to be fine on my trip. Sometimes the littlest things make all the difference, you know?

“Thanks,” I said, then pulled out my phone. I wanted to turn it on so I’d get Paige’s texts. But I also
didn’t
want to turn it on because I didn’t want to deal with my mother. So I ended up just staring at it.

“You’re looking very serious about your phone,” Asher said after a minute.

“I’m conflicted.”

“Ah, there’s someone you don’t want to hear from, but Cannot Ignore if they call.”

“Indeed. The Maternal One.”

He whistled low. “I take it things aren’t good on the home front?”

No, they weren’t. Things felt so far from good I wasn’t sure they’d ever be good again. In some ways I was surprised my mother was still talking to me. Though, I supposed, it wasn’t so much talking as it was ordering.

I was SO glad I was on a completely different continent.

My mother’s not a bad person. Not really. I know she loves me and wants only the best for me. The problem is that we don’t agree on what that is. She thinks I need to be married. To Blaine. And I think…well, I knew I didn’t want to marry Blaine. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do with my life and I kind of felt like I needed to figure that out before I attached myself to another person forever. Didn’t that make sense? How would I ever know what I wanted, who I was, what I was capable of, if I’d never been on my own?

Well, I was on my own now. And even though I didn’t entirely know what I was doing or where I was going (other than Rome—I knew I was going to Rome) (and oh my god, I was actually
on my way
to Rome!), I felt like I was standing in the sunshine for the first time in my life. And it felt warm and wonderful.

I turned to look at Asher, who was patiently waiting for my reply. “Home is…complicated right now. Really, really complicated. My mother is pissed at me for what I will admit are some Very Good Reasons, only one of which is my current location. But I need for Paige to be able to reach me. She’s going to be telling Danny…and I just want to be there for her, if she needs me. Even if I’m thousands of miles away.”

He nodded. “You know when her plane will land?”

“In about four hours. I’ll be asleep by then.”

“How about I set the alarm on my phone for four hours from now, and you can turn your phone on then. Minimize your risk of uncomfortable calls.” He pulled his phone out and set the alarm, then slid it back out of sight. “There. All set.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and studied him. I was having a Paige-moment with him—that instant ease. I didn’t know why but he felt comfortable, like we’d known each other forever. Which was really nice because if I couldn’t have Paige here, it looked like I had an excellent substitute. At least for the ride to Rome. I had no idea where he was going.

“Thanks,” I said. “So who was your Plan A?”

His face softened and he gave a sad ghost of a smile. “My brother.”

“His plans changed?”

“You could say that.” Asher nodded and took a deep breath, seeming to shake off his sadness. He stared at me for a moment. “I came for both of us.”

“Then you shall have to have Twice the Fun.”

“I shall indeed. Excellent idea.” He laughed, then pulled out a little leather-bound journal. He unwound a long tie from around it. There was a slim pen tucked into a pocket of the cover that he slipped out. Then, smiling to himself, he flipped through the pages until he came to a blank one and started writing. He glanced up and grinned sheepishly when he saw me staring. “I like that,” he said. “I’ve got to write it down.”

“That’s so old-fashioned of you.” I pointed at his journal.

“This?” he said. “Yeah, I just like paper and pen, you know? There’s something more concrete about writing it down yourself rather than scratching it onto a tablet or typing into a computer. Don’t get me wrong—I use those things all the time. But stuff like this, that’s personal? It’s gotta be written down.” He shook his head as he wrapped the journal back up. I liked the methodical movement of his hand wrapping the tie around and around, securing his secrets within. It was a well-practiced movement.

“I know. I’m kinda like that too.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded and shrugged. Back home I had countless Moleskines full of notes, thoughts, dreams, sketches, and saved mementos. All packed up and waiting for me to move into a new home with a new husband. In my pack right now was a well-worn journal I’d started dreaming in four years ago, full of all the places I wanted to see—many more than I could fit into three months. It still had plenty of empty pages to be filled on my journey, and I had yet to write anything more in it than
I’m finally and fantastically here
three days ago after we’d landed in Paris. I understood the urge to put pen to paper.

“So, how long are you staying in Rome?” Asher said as he offered me an orange from his pack. I took it gratefully, suddenly aware that I was starving. I’d barely eaten today.

“A few days, I think,” I said as I undid the top of my pack, searching for the half baguette and brie I had left over. “I’m not sure. Honestly, I’m making this up as I go along.” Which was suddenly striking me as NOT the brightest idea. Instead of getting out snacks I should have been planning out my trip. “Is that stupid? I mean, is that an idiotic way to travel?” I looked at Asher. “Wait. Don’t answer that unless it’s
no
.”

Asher laughed—this warm, wonderful sound that wrapped around me and brought my anxiety level down a good three notches. I smiled.

“No,” he said. “Personally, I think that’s the best way to travel. Sure, you can plan the whole trip and make reservations—and, yeah, that takes some of the guessing out and you always know you have a bed—but where’s the adventure in THAT?”

“I
want
to have a bed.” That was kind of a necessity in my mind, and now I was starting to panic again that I
should
plan it all out. How long was the train ride to Rome? I wondered if I had enough time.

But Asher patted my arm. “You will, Skye. Don’t worry. You just might have to search for it sometimes.”

I paused, my hands not sure whether to reach for food or my travel books. Did it matter if I had to search for a hostel? I could look them up on my phone when I got to each place and call first. And I could probably find a cheap hotel if they were all booked, like we’d done in Paris.

Okay, food it was. And going with the flow. I could do that.

I offered Asher some brie and bread. And we talked. For hours. I couldn’t believe it—there were no awkward silences, I never had to struggle for something to say as I did with a lot of people. It was nice.

I fell asleep still tucked under his sweatshirt. He woke me, as promised, when his alarm went off so I could turn my phone on. He smiled sleepily at me and closed his eyes again. I stared out the window of the train, my phone clutched in my hand, thinking about Paige. Wondering and worrying. But there was nothing to see. Darkness draped over the landscape like a shroud, keeping it secret for the night, leaving me sitting quietly with my reflection.

The gentle rhythm of the train rocked me back to sleep, and I didn’t get a text until morning.

PAIGE:
We’ve traded places—I’m getting married.

four

ME:
Are you sure???

PAIGE:
That I’m getting married? Yes. He asked. I said yes. I’m fairly certain in most cultures that means I’m getting married. Probably even in France.

ME:
Haha. You know what I meant.

PAIGE:
Yes, I’m sure. We talked. He loves me, I love him. I know it seems rushed, and it IS…b/c of the baby, but it feels right. Really and truly.

ME:
*cries happy tears*

PAIGE:
Me too. I’m crying at EVERYTHING. Seriously. It’s ridiculous. Oh! Where are you?

ME:
Almost to Rome!! ROME. *flails*

PAIGE:
Jealous. Wish I was there.

ME:
Me too.

“You okay?” Asher’s head lay against the seat, a concerned look on his face. I hadn’t realized he’d woken up. At some point during the night, he’d slipped a light blue sweater on, and it made his eyes look waterblue in the morning light.

“Yeah.” I wiped my eyes, then realized it was his hoodie I was using. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry, Asher.” I scrambled to find tissues in my pack, but he reached out and gently stopped me.