I keep glancing at my phone, checking the time. If I focus on making sure I’m at the airport on time, I can’t think about who I’m picking up.
After a quick shower, I stand in the middle of the room and take deep breaths to calm my frenzied heart rate. I’ve spent more than ten months trying to escape my family and all the memories their presence dredges up. All those fears, those regrets—and the guilt—that I thought would cripple me, now they’re resurfacing, and I can’t breathe.
My gaze flicks to my phone again, and I realize it’s already past five o’clock. Adrenaline pours into my veins, and I snatch up my purse with trembling hands and head out. Jason is letting me use his driver for the day, and thankfully, none of the photographers outside the school notice a Western girl leaving campus.
I collapse into the backseat and shove earbuds into my ears, cranking up the Rolling Stones as loud as I can handle.
“Chlorine, argon, potassium, calcium,” I whisper under my breath, hoping the periodic table will be enough to occupy my brain.
The car reaches the airport way too fast, and I hurry through the lobby. Momma will kill me if she has to wait. I maneuver past a family pushing their luggage on one of those carts, almost overturning it, as I make my way to international arrivals.
I check the monitor displaying arrival statuses and see their flight has landed early. Cursing under my breath, I make my way through the crowd assembled around the sliding doors and search for any familiar faces.
A shout cuts above the buzz of voices around me: “Gracie!”
I whip around to face the voice in time to be practically tackled by a girl nearly four inches taller than me with shoulder-length blond hair and the body of an athlete. Jane throws her arms around my neck and squeezes until I can’t breathe.
“Oh my gosh, I’m here!” she squeals, shoving me to arm’s length and staring at me. “South Korea’s been good to you. You look hot, girlfriend!”
I can’t hold back a laugh at my sister’s enthusiasm. “A hot mess, maybe.”
We hug again, and it finally hits me for real—Jane is with me, in Korea. Which means …
“Grace?” another familiar voice says.
All the blood drains from my head, and my hand shoots out, latching onto Jane’s arm to steady myself. Standing there with a Louis Vuitton suitcase at her side is my mother. She looks the same as when I left: The perfectly sculpted auburn hair, designer dress that’s only slightly rumpled from the flight, and sunglasses so big they look like they’re eating her face. It’s like she’s been transported here from last August, but I don’t even feel like the same person.
She pulls me into a loose hug. “Honey, you look run ragged. If it was that much of an inconvenience for you, we could have taken a taxi from the airport. You didn’t need to pick us up.”
I hold back a snort. As if she wouldn’t have screamed at me if she wasn’t coddled 24/7. But I take the high road and choose not to comment.
“Here, let me help you with your bags.”
I take the suitcase handle out of Momma’s hand and lead them out front, where the driver is mercifully waiting for us. He loads the bags into the trunk, and we’re off.
“So tell me all about school,” Jane says, excitement bubbling out of her, despite being squished between me and Momma in the backseat. “And Seoul. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you got to go there before me!”
“Yes, you never told us about your … trip,” Momma says in a pinched voice. She flashes me a polite smile, but I’ve known her long enough to see the anger simmering underneath her flawless skin.
I force a laugh, praying it doesn’t sound as anxious as I feel. “Y’all don’t want me to bore you with all the details—you just flew halfway across the world. We’ll talk once you’ve slept.”
The ride to the hotel is painfully long, although Jane cuts through some of the tension with her prattling. I’ve never been more thankful for her inability to keep her mouth shut than I am now.
Once the driver’s deposited us at the front door and I’ve instructed him to wait for me, we wheel the suitcases into the lobby. Momma gives it a once-over, her nose wrinkling, as if this isn’t one of the most expensive hotels in Incheon.
I drop them off at their room with the promise to pick them up in the morning. On my way back to school, my thoughts are too jumbled for me to make any sense of them.
My pulse races like I’m sprinting down a track, and sweat lingers on my back and beneath my arms. I search for the detached calm I’ve held on to for so many months, but it’s lost somewhere in the swirl of emotions I wish I could make disappear.
With shaking fingers, I sort through the stuff in my purse until I pick out my phone. I scroll through my contacts until I pull up Jason’s number. My thumb hovers above the screen, but I just stare at his name.
I could call him, and he would answer. He would come over if I asked him. We could watch a movie or talk about music. But then he’d know something’s wrong, he’d know I’m not as strong as I like to pretend to be. And even though he’s been open with me, even though I’ve seen him vulnerable, I can’t let him see me that way. I can’t let him know—I can’t let anyone know—just how messed up I am inside.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself. “I can do this.”
I have no idea what this is, but the mantra settles my nerves. Sighing, I rest my head against the window pane and watch the city lights pass.
But when the driver stops in front of the entrance to the school, I realize my eyes are filled with tears.
Chapter Twenty-three
I wake the next morning with a stabbing pain behind my eyebrows and an ache just above the nape of my neck. It feels like someone hit my head with a sledgehammer, but I force my body out of bed, anyway.
Since Sophie’s mother isn’t arriving until tomorrow, she helps me babysit Momma and Jane for Parents’ Day, even though Momma talks to Sophie like my roommate’s a toddler.