Page 76 of The Run Back Home

She tips her chin down, grinning. "I'll text you if…" Her eyes flit behind me then back to mine. "If anything changes."

I nod and slide out of the booth, pausing for a moment once I stand to make sure my legs won't completely give out from under me.

Once I'm steady, I head down the stairs, through the crowd, and out the nearest exit. The noise that was once so loud and distracting, fades behind the falling curtains that keep replaying in my mind.

It's ridiculous really, I remind myself as I step out onto what must be a beer garden—I guess it's technically open but not popular this time of night. I ran into the guy a few times, and he just so happened to have my number saved. So what? My mother has never once deleted a contact from her phone because she says, You just don't know when you might need a person. As if Larry the vacuum mechanic is someone she may need to get a hold of time and time again.

But it felt like the door might still be cracked open. Like he wouldn't have stopped to talk or invited me up to his apartment after my ludicrous behavior if he didn't at least still feel… something.

Maybe it's not love or even care, and that's fine. We don't even know each other really anymore. But nostalgia maybe? Or general curiosity?

My phone vibrates in my hand and my eyes dart to it.

Is it him?

Is it Dylan?

An email notification lights up my screen telling me that Kent has sent a message to my inbox.

I click on it and read.

Hi Lenora,

I really need to know what you're thinking for your next placement. There are a few hospitals lined up already looking for fill-ins, but I reached out to my contacts, and they have a spot open if you're interested. Let me know, and I'll get you set up.

Thanks,

Kent

I blow out a breath.

I was hesitant before, and I'd be lying if I said Jace wasn't part of that. Not necessarily because I was holding out hope that these six weeks in the same city might rekindle some flame. But because seeing him—being here, this close to home—took me back to a place where staying still existed.

But as his laugh creeps back into my mind and brings with it the memories of everything we've had. Everything we've lost. Of the blonde with the pointy shoes, who his smile was meant for, I realize, it's useless.

To hold onto the past or to home.

Or to a person who clearly doesn't exist anymore.

And with that in mind, I type my reply.

Hi Kent,

Sorry for the delay. I appreciate you reaching out, but don't worry about the mix up. Golden City has been great—I'm really learning a lot here.

As for my next placement, please tell them I'm interested.

Alaska sounds perfect.

Thank you,

Lenora

15

Jace

Cecily has been talking about how great it is that Vienna is doing the National Anthem at the Deaf Awareness game for the last five minutes.