She smiles one last time before turning on her heel to walk away. I watch her go, feeling something inside me start to rise. My blood, my ego, my libido. I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s eager to follow her. To pull that hibiscus from her hair and feel her thick, dark tresses cold between my fingers. I haven’t gotten laid since the day in Sloane’s office and the constant push and pull between us is starting to wear on me. I was true to my word the other night. After I kissed her I went home and jerked off to the memory of her and I hope like hell she did the same to me. But it’s not enough. Nothing between us ever feels like enough. I always want more. More of her body. More of her laughter. Her attitude. Her voice. Her presence.
I settle into my seat, resting my head on the high back. I try to doze but I can’t. I’m too turned out. Amped about getting to the Draft, about finally finding my future. I’m nervous and jittery, my legs starting to shake. I need to calm down. I should listen to music. I should pace the aisle. I should talk to Sloane.
Instead I pocket Kailani’s number.
***
“Trey, can you hang back with me for a second?” Sloane asks. “I need to talk to you.”
She’s stopped walking toward the terminal exit, her small black rolling bag at her side. The rest of our group continues on without us. They don’t question what we’re doing or how long we’ll be, and suddenly I feel worried. I’m afraid Sloane’s going to say something about the stewardess, tell me it hurt her that I flirted. That she doesn’t want me to call her. I’m worried she’s going to lay some claim on me that I’m not ready for her to have because she can’t do shit with it.
I hitch my duffel bag up on my shoulder impatiently. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Sloane watches our party disappear through the security check point, leaving us alone in the terminal. When they’re gone she gives me a nervous grin. “Will you walk with me?”
“Where to?”
“Just walk with me, Trey. Please?”
I hang my head, tucking my hands in my pockets as I fall in step next to her.
Kailani’s napkin rubs coarsely against my palm. My other is wrapped snuggly in Sloane’s bandage.
Sloane leads me silently through the terminal to a busier section of the airport. Planes are arriving and departing, swarms of people walking across our paths, separating us from one another so we have to work to stay together. Every now and then she glances down at her phone, checking her messages.
I feel a tingling in my spine. A nervous energy building and branching out through my veins. My palms start to sweat, probably bleeding the ink spelling out the phone number in my pocket.
Sloane is asking me to play passenger right now. She knows I hate being a passenger.
Finally she stops in front of a gate, a huge smile on her face. She’s almost bouncing on her toes with excitement.
All I see is a crowded gate full of strangers.
“Sloane, what are we doing here? Don’t we have to get to the car—“
“Trey!”
I jerk in the direction of the voice, picking it out of the crowd. Out of any crowd anywhere in the world.
It’s my mom.
She waves excitedly over the throng of people between us. My dad is behind her, bags strapped over both of his massive shoulders, a huge grin on his face. He has a beard now. I didn’t know that. I haven’t seen them in almost a year. It’s graying at the edges the way my mom’s brown hair has started graying around her temples. She looks beautiful. They both do.
I drop my duffle next to Sloane and break through the crowd toward them. People part for me as I run to my parents, swooping them both into a crushing embrace.
They smell like our laundry detergent. My mom’s hair against my cheek is every memory of my childhood. Every joy and every sorrow, and today I feel it all at once. All together.
They’re laughing, I’m laughing.
They’re crying. I’m crying.
“This is a good surprise, then?” Mom asks shakily.
I stand up straight, tears streaming down my cheeks. My parents are blurry in my vision, underwater and indistinct. I swipe at my eyes, desperate to make them whole. Make them real.
“Good surprise,” I choke. A new rush of tears falls unstoppable from my eyes. “It’s a good surprise.”
Dad wraps his large hand around the back of my neck, pulling my forehead against his. “We’re so proud of you, Trey. We’re so proud to be here with you.”
I put my hand on his arm, squeezing tightly. “Dad,” is all I can manage.
It takes a long time for me to get my shit together. By the time we’re aware of our surroundings again we’re alone. Everyone has cleared out of the gate.
Everyone but Sloane.
I wipe my cheeks clear for the third time as I approach her slowly.
“You did this,” I accuse roughly.
She smiles softly, her eyes full of water and wonder. “I did,” she breathes. “And it was beautiful.”
My mom comes around from behind me, reaching for Sloane. “Thank you, honey.”
The hug they share is brief but fierce. My mom squeezes Sloane so hard she forces a grunt from her throat, but Sloane is laughing. She’s smiling and blushing in a way I’ve never seen before. I didn’t even know Sloane Ashford could blush.
My dad is gentler with his embrace but he plants a kiss on her forehead as he backs away.
Sloane blushes harder.
“Mahalo,” he rumbles in his deep tenor.