Piper put a hand on her hip. “Mom says you’re not supposed to say that. She says that even if we don’t go to church, it’s disrespectful to people who do.”
Gael rolled his eyes. “Mom’s not perfect. And neither am I. What do you want?”
“Mom wants to know if you’re going to Dad’s tonight and if you’re going to drive me later.”
“I don’t know,” Gael said. He started to close the door.
Piper pushed with all her might on the door. He gave up and let her in.
“You can’t skip again. You skipped last week and the week before. It’s not as fun without you.”
“Fine,” Gael said. “I’ll drive you to Dad’s, and we’ll all have an awesome time. Can you just leave me alone right now, please?”
She sat down on the bed. “You look sad.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gael said, flopping back on the bed.
“That means you are sad,” Piper said. “Because you didn’t say you weren’t.”
“So?” he asked.
“So are you going to tell me why? I’m a good listener. Dad says.”
And then maybe it was because Piper could be so damn sweet sometimes, or maybe it was just because he felt so crappy that he needed to tell someone, but he spilled it. All of it. His realization that he wanted to be with Sammy, the map thievery, the trip to her dorm, and last but not least his complete and utter failure at stopping her from heading off to reunite with her ex.
Piper’s mouth was hanging open by the time Gael was done. But then, quick as can be, she shut it, crossed her arms, and tilted her head to the side.
“What?” he asked.
She flailed her arms about dramatically. “Why are you sitting here moping and not going to find her?”
Gael turned his palms up. “It was probably a sign. It’s not supposed to be. It would have just gone to hell, anyway.”
Piper huffed. “You’re supposed to say heck.”
“Well, it would probably have gone to heck, okay?”
Piper shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t.”
“Umm, have you seen Mom and Dad? Something terrible always ruins everything. Happy endings are just in Disney movies. I’ll pass on all that unhappiness, thanks.”
She crossed her arms. “Mom said she still loves Dad, it’s just different now.”
“Oh, did she?” Gael scoffed.
“Really, she did. I asked her if she was sad that she married Dad because now she cries a lot, and she said that she would do it all over still. She said that when you meet someone as cool as Dad, you have to go for it.”
Gael shook his head. “No way that’s what she said.”
Piper nodded vigorously. “It is!”
He paused. “Really?”
“Uh huh.”
Gael was quiet for a moment. On the one hand, his mom’s words made him feel better. Even if they didn’t make up for all the bad things these last few months, at least it didn’t mean that everything had always been bad.
But on the other hand, this was doubly as scary.
You could love someone, you could pick the right person, you could give your life to them, and you could. Still. Get. Hurt.
His heart ached for his dad. And for his mom, for that matter.
And for himself and Piper and everyone.
Gael didn’t want to get hurt again. And yet deep down, he knew somehow that all of this meant getting hurt. That all those big feelings only happened when you put your heart in someone else’s hands. They could crush it, like Anika did. They could change their minds after twenty years, like his mom.
But maybe missing out was worse than getting hurt, Gael thought. Maybe Mason was right—maybe it was better to love and lose than to remove yourself from the game completely.
“Did Sammy tell you what airline she was on?” Gael asked.
“No,” Piper said.
Gael sighed. Of course she hadn’t. Why would she?
“But Mom would know,” Piper added. “She drove her to the airport. She only just got back.”
Gael jumped out of bed, quickly pulled his shoes on. “I love you, Piper,” he said, as he made his way out the door.
“I know,” she said matter-of-factly.
He should never have let her watch Star Wars.
rush hour
Gael’s mom practically fell out of her chair when she heard that he A.) liked Sammy and B.) was rushing to the airport in the name of a ridiculous, grand romantic gesture. Not only did she give him the flight info, but she sent Piper over to their neighbors and insisted on giving him a ride herself.
They didn’t talk much, but his mom drove like a maniac, swerving around cars, pedal to the metal, pushing her smart car to the ultimate max.
It was 6:45 by the time they got to the Raleigh–Durham Airport.
There was a huge line of cars when they got to the RDU departures terminal.
“I’m going to run,” Gael said. “Screw this.”
His mom nodded, and he reached for the door.
“I love you, Gael,” she said.
He looked back at her.