Wherever Nina Lies

“Did they follow us? After they told us your address? When we were walking over I had this feeling someone was behind us the entire time…”

 

“Of course.” Nina nods. “They followed you up the hill and then you guys came into my apartment and then, this guy pointed a gun at me and my amazingly brave little sister tackled him. And I guess you pretty much know the rest.”

 

And then Nina nods and she collapses back into her seat, like someone who’s been running and running for years and has just finally stopped.

 

I turn toward her. I have waited so long for this, for this story, for this moment, and I want to tell her I’m sorry, for ever doubting her reasons for leaving, for being angry, for not trusting her, for everything that she’s been through. But when our eyes meet, she just smiles, this bittersweet smile, sad and wise, and I know I don’t have to say anything at all because, in this moment I can tell she already knows. And I know something right then, too, this Nina, this person sitting next to me, is the sister I grew up with, but she’s not quite the same person she was when she left. Then again, neither am I.

 

“Hey, Belly,” Nina says. “I still want to hear your whole story, too, you know. I mean, there’s a whole lot of what happened that I still don’t understand.” And then she stops and smiles. “But I guess there’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

 

“Plenty of time for that later,” I say. And I smile, too.

 

Then Nina goes back to her drawing, and I go back to staring out the window. We’ll be home soon.

 

 

 

 

 

Forty-four

 

 

 

I see her before she sees us, my mom, standing by the baggage claim holding two bouquets of yellow flowers.

 

Nina spots her a second after I do. “It’s her,” she whispers. And then she takes off running.

 

“Mom!” she shouts. “MOM! MOM! MOOOOOOM!”

 

Our mom turns when she hears Nina’s voice and then her entire face just lights up. And she just stands there beaming in this light blue sleeveless dress and makeup and the little gold earrings Nina and I got her for Mother’s Day like ten years ago. This is the first time in I don’t even know how long that I’ve seen her in anything other than a nurse’s uniform or a bathrobe and pajamas. She looks beautiful.

 

When Nina reaches her they throw their arms around each other, and there’s hugging and crying and laughing and when I reach them I get roped in to the hug, too. Out of the corner of my eye I see that everyone who passes is staring at us and smiling. I feel like if we wanted to we could grab every single passerby, one by one, and pull them into our hug until the entire airport is sharing in our happiness. Such is the power of a moment like this one.

 

Finally, after a very long time we let go and stand there still huddled in the chilly airport air. Nina’s eyes are twinkling, just the way I remember them doing before she ever left. And my mother is just staring at us, looking so soft and pleased and proud, it’s like the drawing of her on Nina’s wall is a portrait of her from just this moment. And then she glances down at her hands like she just realized she’s still holding onto the bouquets of yellow flowers which have now been completely crushed by the fury of our hugs. She thrusts them out toward us. The remaining petals flutter to the floor.

 

“You’re both grounded,” she says. And the three of us burst out laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

Forty-five

 

 

 

A week ago at this time is when it all began. I had just left Mon Coeur with a bag of broken cookies in my hand, and was about ten minutes away from finding Nina’s drawing, and about four hours away from going to a party at the Mothership, and about seven hours away from leaning against a wall and meeting what I thought was just a friendly stranger in a mask. A week ago at this time, I could not have even begun to imagine all of the insane things that were about to happen. But now, sitting out here on lawn chairs on the sidewalk in front of Mon Coeur, I know that even if I could, I wouldn’t change a single moment of the last week. Because if it had somehow gone differently, things might not be exactly the way they are right now.

 

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” Brad says. He squints at his watch. “The fireworks usually start ten minutes after sunset.”

 

“You usually start ten minutes after sunset,” Thomas says, poking him in the side.

 

Brad grins. “I have no idea what that means, sweetness, but you’re too cute to have to make sense.” And he leans his head on Thomas’s shoulder.

 

It’s just the seven of us, stretched out on the best piece of sidewalk in all of Edgebridge, on the blue and white lawn chairs that Brad found in the back room. To my right, Brad and Thomas are messing with Brad’s digital camera. To my left, Amanda is chatting with Adam, the new guy she’s been seeing, and Adam’s cute best friend Cody, who smiles shyly at me whenever he catches my eye.