Page 132 of Chasing Home
“He’s a piece of shit for how he treated you, and I’d knock his teeth out if you let me,” she declares like an angry guard dog.
“I know. I love you for it.” I glance at Poppy and then Anna. “I love you all for it. You took me in and showed me true friendship when I didn’t know that’s what I needed. Thank you.”
Bryce yanks on my hand and brings me into a hug. She smells like spiced oranges, and I never thought I’d find comfort in that smell until now. Poppy curls around my back, her cheek on my shoulder and arms covering Bryce’s. Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow down a cry, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“I’m going to need you to come back, Rory. It isn’t fair I can’t join in on this hug,” Anna sighs through the phone.
“I’m coming back, and we’ll have a thousand more hugs,” I promise.
The women around me agree and hug me that bit tighter, as if they’re afraid to let me go. Truth is, I’m afraid to let go too.
42
AURORA
Leaving Cherry Peak hurts worse than leaving Calgary ever did.
Every kilometre that ticks by intensifies the gnawing sensation in my gut that feels a lot like homesickness. The kind I used to get when I was young and slept over at a friend’s house. I used to spend those nights wishing I had stayed home with my mom and wishing that I had her to tuck me in instead of a stranger I only faintly knew.
It’s a sign as obvious as any I’ve ever known. Even if I was still adamant about not believing in them, I’d have second-guessed this one.
Wanda hasn’t spoken much the entire drive. She’s busied herself with her phone and the paperback book she brought with her. Usually, I enjoy silence, but not when it’s the awkward type. And this? This is awkward.
Is she regretting leaving the way I am?
“Does awkward silence not bother you?” I ask, too nervous to look across the car to see her reaction.
“It does. It really does. But I don’t know what to say.”
“There should be a million things for us to talk about. We just have to find one.”
She tucks her phone beneath her thigh and twists to face me as much as she can with her seat belt on. “When’s your birthday?”
“May thirteenth. Yours?”
“June seventh.”
The closeness of those two months makes me cringe as I check the rear-view mirror and see nothing but dust kicking up behind our tires. Dirt roads are always a pain, but with the constant tinging of rocks jumping around the wheel wells and the inability to see behind you, they drive me nuts.
Tightening my hold on the steering wheel, I glance at the GPS instructions on the dash and ask, “You’re a traveller, right? Where’s your favourite place you’ve travelled?”
“Scotland. You?”
“I’ve never been out of North America.”
“What?” she shrieks, causing me to jerk on the wheel in surprise before straightening. “You’ve never left North America? How is that possible?”
“I don’t like planes. The longest flight I’ve ever been on is five hours.”
“We’ll have to change that. You can’t be thirty and not have experienced another country outside of Canada and America. Trust me, those are the two least impressive places ever.”
“Why Scotland?”
She whistles softly. “Why not Scotland? You’ve got the Highlands, the castles, the wildlife. It’s beautiful and scenic and just . . . a breath of fresh air after being trapped in cities like Toronto or Calgary for so long. I’m at peace there. Before I went to Toronto, I spent three months in Edinburgh. I had to force myself to leave.”
“It sounds incredible.”
“It is.”