Destiny (Waiting for Forever) (5 page)

“His name is Brian, Charlie. I got into a little trouble at the last station, and he helped me. He’s really nice…. He’s eighteen….” He said something else, and she laughed. “Don’t worry, big brother, I’m not his type.” Then she sobered again.

“I can’t… I’m scared. I…. You’d do that? I love you too, Charlie,” she told him and then looked at me and whispered, “He’s going to call my mom on three-way and stay on with me.” Her brother was a smart guy and obviously loved his little sister. Even from hundreds of miles away, he still looked out for her.

“Hi, Mom,” Sarah said timidly into the phone. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

I thought that her mom asking how she was before asking where she was told a lot about her love for Sarah. Her mother’s first priority was her daughter’s welfare. Of course, the inevitable question came soon after.

“I’m on a bus in Texas. I think the next big city is El Paso. I know, Mom, I’m so sorry…. Please, Mama, don’t cry.” A huge tear rolled down Sarah’s face, and she tried to keep her voice steady. The rest of the conversation consisted of a lot of one-word agreements from Sarah punctuated by long silences in which I’m sure her mother alternated between anger and comfort. At one point Sarah asked me when we should reach El Paso, and I told her it would still be several hours. Even though Sarah tried to protest, telling her mother she could take the next bus back to Florida, it sounded like her parents were adamant that they would be on the next plane to El Paso, and her mother assured her they would be at the station when she got there. Honestly, I think Sarah was relieved.

“Thank you,” Sarah told me after she finally hung up with her family after an assurance that the phone would remain on. She didn’t need to say any more.

The irony of the situation was not lost on me. I had talked her out of the very thing I was doing, risking everything to follow my boyfriend to California. Checking the schedule, I saw we still had a full eight hours before the bus stopped in El Paso. In just over twenty-four hours, I would be in San Diego. The thought both thrilled and frightened me. In San Diego, I would be closer to Jamie, but then I would also be farther away from my parents. Thinking about that made me think about Carolyn, and I decided to text her again just to let her know that I was okay.

Having resolved things with her parents, Sarah was more upbeat. We played a couple of games on her phone, which took us through lunch in Fort Stockton. After that, the lack of sleep from the night before started to catch up with me, and I found I couldn’t keep my eyes open and would periodically doze for a minute before jerking myself awake again.

“You look exhausted,” Sarah observed.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I agreed. She bunched up the sweatshirt she had taken off that morning and offered it to me as a pillow.

“I’ll wake you up when we get to El Paso. Why don’t you get a couple of hours’ sleep?” She covered my hand with hers, and I nodded, smiling slightly. Turning a little in the seat, I rested my head on her sweatshirt and closed my eyes. It was soft and it smelled sweet, like some kind of fruit, raspberries, maybe. Sighing, I could feel myself already starting to succumb to the tide of exhaustion.

“Brian?” Sarah asked quietly, and I opened my eyes but didn’t move.

“Yeah?”

Resting her head on the seat, she looked at me a little shyly. “Can we keep in touch? I mean, after I get off the bus in El Paso,” she asked.

“I’d like that,” I told her with a yawn, and within minutes, I was asleep.

I
HEARD
my name through the fog of sleep but couldn’t quite place the voice. It sounded a little like Carolyn, but softer, maybe younger. The next thing I noticed was a rumbling and vibrating underneath me. Opening my eyes, it took a few seconds for Sarah’s face to come into focus. I sat up quickly, looking around. I was still on the bus to San Diego. For a minute, it felt like maybe the whole thing had been a dream, until I looked out into the late-afternoon landscape and saw… absolutely nothing. Outside the bus window, there was nothing but dust, dry earth, heat haze, and scattered brush.

“Where are we?” I managed to croak out. My tongue felt like it was permanently stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I might have actually killed for a soda.

“We’re about fifteen minutes from El Paso,” she said quietly, and I noticed that her hands were shaking.

I handed her the sweatshirt and tried to reassure her, but in truth, I knew her parents were not going to be happy with her. They would be happy to see her, to see that she was okay, but then, she was in a lot of trouble. We packed our stuff into our bags, making sure everything was secure. I had to transfer to yet another bus in El Paso after a nearly two-hour layover. At least I would have time to get something to eat. I was starving, and lunch had been hours ago.

Sarah saw her parents as soon as the bus rolled into the station, pointing them out to me apprehensively. Like her daughter, Sarah’s mother had straight blonde hair and a slight build. She clutched her husband’s hand. The man was tall and thin, his brown hair receding from his pale forehead. Both were casually well dressed. Their expressions were tired but anxious, and as the bus finally came to a stop, Sarah’s mother took a reflexive step forward.

However, her daughter made no move to get out of her seat, letting others pass as she cradled her bag in her arms.

“You know they love you, right?” I asked gently, and she nodded. A small sigh escaped her, and she looked back over her shoulder to see the bus mostly empty. “Come on.” I pushed her a bit so she would stand up and move into the aisle. She stood back, obviously wanting me to take the lead. I walked down the aisle, holding my backpack by the straps. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned back around and took her bag to let her climb down as well. I took a quick step back as Sarah’s parents nearly ran me over as they threw themselves at her. I held onto Sarah’s bag, smiling at their reunion, as she broke down into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Sarah said over and over as her mother held her and her father held them both. Seeing their obvious love for each other made me miss Richard and Carolyn terribly.

“Brian?” Her voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I handed her the bag. “Brian, these are my parents.” I held out my hand to shake each of theirs and told them how nice it was to meet them, but they only had eyes for Sarah, who was pulling something out of her bag. Sarah asked for my phone and entered her phone number and e-mail address into my contacts. Then she practically threw her phone at me, asking me to do the same.

“Thank you so much for everything, but especially for listening and for turning my phone back on,” she told me and then engulfed me in a hug. “You were right, I should go home.” She lowered her voice so her parents wouldn’t hear and continued. “I really hope that you find Jamie, and that he realizes how lucky he is to have you.” Pulling away, she went back to her mother, who put an arm around her. I watched her father grab her huge suitcase and pull it over to a cab.

It was time for Sarah to go back home.

For the next five hours, Texas melded into New Mexico, which morphed into Arizona. The landscape all looked the same, and I was starting to get fidgety. It was late and I was tired, more than ready for that part of my journey to be over. I grabbed another coffee in Phoenix as I transferred to my final bus a little before five on Wednesday morning. It had been only two days since I’d received the letter from Jamie, and it felt like things were changing rapidly for me across the stretch of thousands of miles. Briefly, I wondered if Sarah was already in the air on the way back to Florida. I hadn’t texted her yet, wanting her to spend time talking to her parents.

I
SAW
him from a distance; his blond hair was shorter but still beautiful in the midafternoon California sun. The soft blue polo shirt was a departure from his usual T-shirt, but I was so incredibly happy to see him that I didn’t think anything of it. Jamie was standing just a few dozen feet from me on the front porch of a large modern-looking home that I assumed belonged to his parents. Turned slightly so I could only see his profile, he was looking in the house, apparently waiting for something.

My heart stopped when I saw the pretty girl step out onto the porch and kiss him sweetly. Rather than shying away, Jamie embraced her. When he turned, taking the girl’s hand, and walked down the sidewalk toward me, I froze. Holding my breath, I waited for him to look up. When he was about six feet from me, he did. His expression wasn’t what I would have expected. It was almost pitying.

“I don’t know why you wasted your time, Brian,” Jamie told me harshly as he lifted the hand that was still holding the girl’s hand. “I don’t have those feelings anymore.” Pulling the girl along, he walked right past me like I wasn’t even there.

I woke with a start, my breaths coming in pants as I looked wildly around. My heart was racing as I thought about the dream. My worst fear was that something had happened to Jamie, but just after that was the fear that he wouldn’t want me anymore. Anything else, I could deal with.

The bus stopped, and I looked out the window, feeling my fear rise as I heard the announcement come over the onboard speakers.

“Thank you for choosing Greyline Bus Services. Welcome to San Diego.”

Three

W
ALKING
through the crowded gate, I followed the signs to the front doors of the bus station and passed through them to the sidewalk. My breath left my lungs in an exhalation of sheer wonder as I stood, dumbstruck, looking up at the huge building across the street. A bright light and the images of nearby buildings reflected on the surface that seemed to go on forever toward the sky. The rest of the scene seemed to come into focus as the traffic rushed along the busy street and colorful banners flew high on poles decorating the landscape. It was all so overwhelming when just two days ago I had been in my backwoods little Alabama town.

The stoplight to my left turned green, and a flood of people began to walk past me. A panicky feeling rose inside me, and I pressed myself back against the wall of the station as the sidewalk filled.

“Hey, kid, need a ride?” a cab driver called as I held onto my duffel, trying to decide what to do. I looked over at him and thought that maybe his cab was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It was old and faded, but it would mean I could ride to the hotel instead of walking. I’d found a cheap hotel during my research, and I could not wait to get there. Exhausted, filthy, and beyond my limit, I gave in and nodded, pulling my duffel over to the cab.

The driver stepped out and walked around to the back. As I approached the car, he took the duffel out of my hands and put it into the empty, cavernous trunk. Older and balding, the man looked to be in his fifties with a bit of a beer belly. He smiled and held his hand out, gesturing toward the back door. I climbed in, and after a minute, he got in the front.

“Where to?” he asked, turning slightly in his seat. He had an accent that I didn’t quite recognize.

“I’m going to the Roadview Inn. I have the address,” I told him, opening my bag to try and find the paper I’d written the address on. He waved me off.

“I know where it is.” He turned back around and put the cab in gear, pulling smoothly from the curb. I knew I should be excited that I’d finally made it to San Diego, but I was so tired. My eyes drooped so many times on the short ride to the hotel that I lost count. They burned and itched, and my body felt like there was a layer of grime coating it. All I wanted was a shower and a bed, although I wasn’t sure I wanted them in that order.

“We’re here,” the driver said, breaking me from my drowsy fog. I paid the fare with a little extra for the tip and took my duffel when he pulled it from the trunk. Turning, I got my first real look at the Roadview Inn. It was an old, rundown building sandwiched between a pizza place and a dry cleaner. At nearly five o’clock, the street was bustling with dozens of people walking up and down the sidewalk. Parents and children walked alongside men in suits talking on their cell phones. A woman pushed a stroller past me. Another woman walking two tiny dogs in sweaters followed her. There were probably more people on that street than I had ever seen at one time in my entire life.

Energized by the activity, I picked up my duffel and carried my bags into the hotel. The lobby was clean and well furnished, with nondescript patterned carpeting and couches in front of a fake fire. It was the most reasonably priced place I had found near the bus station, but I wouldn’t be able to afford it for long, a few days at most. Originally, I’d planned to start calling the people on my list as soon as I got in. After sitting on the bus for hours, however, I just couldn’t force myself to focus on anything but checking in and going to sleep.

“Can I help you, sir?” The woman’s voice surprised me, and I looked to find a bored-looking middle-aged woman in a hotel uniform staring at me.