It was almost midnight by the time I pulled us into one of the historic hotels near the Grand Canyon, and Emery just stood beside me with our bags as I checked us in. The only sound he’d made all day came when I tried to put the room on my card and he simply said, “No,” before shoving his own card forward.
The room was small, and Emery dropped his bag on the bed, stripping his shirt off and immediately making his way to the bathroom. It locked with a click behind him and I exhaled long and loud, flopping down onto my bed with Kalo already at my feet, ready to be fed. I rubbed her ears, stretching out my muscles that were tight from driving all day. I hadn’t even had the time to do yoga that morning, since Emery had been so eager to get on the road, and I felt the difference — not just physically, but mentally, too.
When Kalo was fed and watered, I rummaged through my bag, pulling out the last set of clean sleep clothes I had and laying them on the bed. Emery emerged not too long after, steam billowing out around him as he dried his hair with one towel, the other tied around his waist. I swallowed as I watched the water droplets drip down his chest and over his tight abdomen, but he didn’t notice.
He wouldn’t look at me.
I was quiet as he sat on the edge of his bed, clicking through his phone. But after a few minutes had passed, I was ready to break the silence, so I cleared my throat, gathering my clothes off the bed.
“After we check out the canyon tomorrow, I think I’m going to do a load of laundry. The concierge said they have a little laundromat on site.” Emery didn’t respond, nor did he seem like he was even listening, his fingers still working over the keys on his phone. “Want me to add any of your clothes in with mine?”
“Sure.”
I nodded, heart stinging from his icy response. “You okay?”
He huffed at that, tossing his phone on the bedside dresser with a loud thud before his eyes finally met mine. They were hard as stone. “Fine.”
I think part of him saw the hurt in my eyes in that moment, because he forced a long breath, running a hand roughly through his hair and tearing his gaze away. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t — he just stared at the floor where his bare feet rubbed against the carpet.
Swallowing, I held my head as high as I could, adjusting my clothes in my arm. “Okay. I’m going to take a shower.”
I took my time, washing my stump and soaking my sore muscles in the bathtub for a while before draining the water and running the shower. The hot water stung a little as it hit my back, but still I stood beneath the stream on one leg, holding onto the bar at the back of the shower for balance.
Maybe he’s regretting last night. Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and now he’s thinking about how stuck he is with me. Maybe I said something when I was high, something I don’t remember. Maybe he just doesn’t like me.
My mind raced until the water ran cold, and I stepped out of the tub with a heavy sigh, knowing it was no use. I wasn’t exactly an expert in depression, but I knew enough to understand that whatever he was going through today, it wasn’t because of me. There was a war raging inside that head of his tonight, and only he could see it. Only he could fight.
But only if he wanted to.
Emery was already asleep by the time I let myself out of the bathroom, so I hopped on one leg over to the bed, finding balance on the desk along the wall as I did. I laid my prosthesis beside the bed, set an alarm for seven so I could get up to do yoga before we went for our hike, and then I curled in beside Kalo and turned down the light, praying tomorrow would bring Emery back to me.
“I can’t believe it,” Lily said over the speaker phone the next morning.
My eyes were closed, back pressed to my mat, and a stupid grin was plastered on my face. I was still lying down from Savasana, my body aching yet satisfied after a great yoga session, and I had a feeling today would be a better day.
“Honestly, neither can I.”
She sighed longingly. “I hope you know not all of your first kisses will be like that. Like, he ruined you. He set the bar too high. You’re going to be so disappointed next time. My first kiss was Robby MacIntyre, remember? He tongue punched my mouth and slobbered all over me behind the bleachers our sophomore year. At least I could only go up from there.”
“You should write him a thank you card.”
“I really should. He set the bar low. But seriously, what are you even feeling right now?”
I shook my head, trying to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t even know. I feel… high. God, Lily. His lips… they’re just… magical.”
“Like I said,” she reiterated. “Ruined.”
I chuckled, sitting up on my mat. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you. We’re hiking the Grand Canyon today so I need to get back to the room and get him up and going.”
“Think he’ll be in a better mood today?”
My smile slipped, fingers picking at the loose strings at the hem of my tank top. “I hope so. I think yesterday was just a bad day.”
“You don’t think he’s overanalyzing the kiss? Do you think… is he maybe freaked out by how good it was, too? You said he was more of a single forever type of guy.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re necessarily getting married just because we kissed,” I combatted with a laugh. “Maybe it was just a fun night and it’ll never happen again.”
Lily scoffed. “Yeah, right. You guys will just continue to drive across the country, spending every waking moment together and sleeping in the same room and you’ll never kiss again. Totally. Makes sense.”
“Shut up.”
“Just be careful, okay?” Lily paused, and I imagined her fidgeting with the straps of her backpack like she always did when we were in high school. She was walking to class, and for a moment I had a longing desire to be there with her, to be at the same college as my best friend. “Your first kiss might have been incredible, but your first heartbreak is going to suck — especially if he’s the one to hand it to you.”
“It was just a kiss,” I lied. “I’m fine. If he wants to just be friends, I’m cool with it.”
“And if he wants to make out and take your shirt off?”
I blushed, biting my lower lip. “I mean, I wouldn’t be mad at that, either.”
“I’m sure,” Lily laughed the words. “Okay, go hike the Grand Canyon. I’ll just be here, in Illinois, drowning in homework, studying in the library with the other nerds and wishing I was on a cross-country trip with a boy who kisses like a god.”
“I’ll send a postcard.”
“You better.”
There was another pause, and my heart squeezed. I wondered what it would be like to be there with her, what my life would have been like if I’d had a normal childhood and parents who cared about me. I wondered how the diner was doing, how Tammy was holding up while they filled my position. I even wondered about my parents. Were they going to be able to pay rent? Were they thinking of me at all?
But I knew that answer already.
As if she could read my mind, Lily spoke my thoughts out loud. “Miss you, bestie. You wearing your ring?”
I sighed. “Miss you more. And like you even have to ask.”
“I’ve got mine on, too. I’m with you in spirit. Call me anytime, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
“I’ll check in again soon,” I promised, and then I ended the call, rolling up my yoga mat and heading back to the room.
It was still dark when I let myself in, but Kalo was wide awake, hopping around my feet as I used the light from my phone to find my way through. I took her for a long walk, my excitement growing as I saw the ridges of the canyon in the distance, but when I tried to wake Emery after we were back, my mood soured instantly.
He was still in bed, covers pulled up over his messy hair, and when I turned on the lights, he groaned.
“Ready to hike, sunshine?” I tried to tease, but he just huffed from under the comforter.
“I don’t want to go.”
I was tempted to roll my eyes, but then I remembered his journal, how he wrote about the days when everything just felt pointless. I’d never experienced it myself, but I imagined it would be an awful feeling. He’d asked me to understand, and I wanted to, I wanted to give him what he needed.
Steeling all the sympathy I could, I sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s really nice outside, and I promise you’ll feel better once you get out of bed. You’re just tired, but—“
He sat upright in a jolt, cutting my words short, especially when his hard eyes connected with mine. They were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept a wink.
“You’re right, I am tired. Too tired to listen to your sunshiney bullshit. So, if you want to go hiking, go. I’m not leaving this bed.”
My nose flared, eyes tingling, but I sniffed back the thought of crying just as regret slipped over Emery’s face. Clearing my throat, I stood, gathering the backpack he’d bought in Colorado and packing a couple of bottles of water in it along with a few protein bars.
He sighed behind me, flopping back into the bed. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t today, okay?”
I peered at him over my shoulder, but his eyes were on the ceiling, and even though I was hurt, my heart ached for him. All I wanted was to help, to make everything better, but I knew I couldn’t. The battle was inside his head, and I couldn’t help fight from the outside.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Would it be okay if I left Kalo with you, then? It would probably be hard to do a tour with her, and she’s a pretty good cuddle buddy, if you want one.”
Emery didn’t look at me, but he nodded, his eyes still glued to the ceiling as I strapped the bag onto my shoulders.
“I’ll see you later.” And with that, I kissed Kalo’s head and slipped out the door, leaving him alone in the dark room.
I wanted so badly to spend the day with him, to laugh with him, to talk with him… especially about what happened in Colorado. But I couldn’t force him to talk, and I couldn’t force him to be okay. Like Nora said, sometimes I just needed to be patient with him — and this was one of those times.
So, I shook him from my thoughts as I checked with the concierge on which hikes he recommended. Deciding I wanted to do the Skywalk more than anything, I signed up for the Grand Canyon West Tour, and a shuttle scooped me up from the hotel a short half hour later.
I used the time on the shuttle to text Tammy, letting her know I was still alive. I told her I had stories for her and she freaked out, making me promise to call her as soon as I could. Then, I checked my social media, which reminded me again how lame my life back home was when I had a whole ten notifications — most of them from Lily tagging me in memes. When I tucked my phone back in the front pocket of the backpack and looked up as the shuttle pulled to a stop, I gasped.
For a second I just sat there, even as the other passengers around me started shuffling off the bus, cameras at the ready. When I finally stood, it was like I was in a trance, my feet moving me out the door on autopilot while my eyes adjusted.
There was a reason they called it the Grand Canyon.
It was grand. There was no better word for it.
The depth of it, the magnitude — it was breathtaking. I couldn’t see it all, couldn’t take it all in at once, so I just stood there, eyes grazing each and every inch of the canyons while the cool Arizona breeze whipped through my hair.
“Amazing, right?” a soft voice said from my right, and I turned to find a girl about my age, maybe a little older, smiling back at me. She had fire-red hair and freckles lining her cheeks, with blue aviator glasses hiding her eyes and a friendly smile aimed right at me.
“It’s… I don’t have words.”
“I know. This is my second time here. I did the south bend last time, but I had to come do the Skywalk.” She pulled a bottle of water from the side pouch of her bag, taking a sip. “I’m Zoey.”
“Cooper.”
She smiled. “Want to be hiking buddies today? I heard there are some picnic tables down this way if we want to venture along the edge for a while. Do the skywalk last? I’ve been driving alone for a few days and would love some company.”
Zoey seemed so genuine, the way she smiled and waited for my answer, and truthfully, I didn’t want to be alone that day, either. So, I nodded, offering her a smile of my own as I pulled the straps of my backpack tighter.
“Actually, that would be great. The friend I’m with is…” My voice faded. “He’s not feeling well, so I came out by myself today.”
“It’s kismet then,” she conceded, then she looped her arm in mine and tugged me toward the canyon.
And so I set off with my new friend, and the great day I’d been feeling that morning in yoga started to bloom, even if it was without Emery.
Zoey loved to talk — even more than me. We were quite the pair, jabbering the entire time as we walked the edge of the canyon, pausing here and there to take photos. I found out Zoey was from a small town, too — in Rhode Island, of all places — and she left as soon as she turned eighteen. She’d been traveling the country ever since, writing a travel blog to sustain herself. It was fascinating, hearing about her loyal readers and supporters. I pulled up the site when we stopped at a picnic table, bookmarking it to explore later.
“So, you just started writing about the local places in your home state,” I said, scrolling through one of her posts on her blog. “And people started following? And then requesting places they wanted you to go?”
She nodded, biting off a big hunk of an oat bar. “Mm-hmm. It started with them wanting me to come to their towns, to little places they loved, and then they started picking places on the map. Before I knew it, they were donating on my website to help sustain me, and then when I put together my first book, they were rabid. Since then, I’ve started doing pod casts and motivational speaking. It’s crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t lived in the same place for longer than three months since I turned twenty-one.”
“Wow,” I breathed, trying to imagine what that would be like. I was in awe just from what I’d seen since leaving Mobile and crossing six states. What would it be like to travel the world?
Zoey told me about her first trip to Europe, about how she fell in love for the first time with a German university student. She told me about their first kiss in front of the remains of the Berlin Wall, and I teared up a little as her eyes glossed over, the memory leaving her lips and finding my ears. It was magical, just like my first kiss with Emery, but she had only known him for two weeks before she was off to the next place.
“I fell in love with him, even though I knew I’d be leaving,” she confessed. “I’ve never been scared of love, of feelings, of falling hopelessly for another human being. Yes, it hurts to leave, or to lose it, but it’s also amazing to live it. It’s worth it, to me, to have the experience.”
When we started our hike back to the Skywalk, I also learned that Zoey had had several boyfriends all around the world, and she told me about each of them, showing me pictures on her phone. I loved listening to her stories of how she met them, of their time together, of how they kept in touch when she left. Some of them she sees when she passes through their cities, some of them are married now, and some of them fell apart when she left.
One thing was for sure — Zoey was no stranger to boys or the messes that came with them.
Maybe that was why I tossed through every question I had for her as we neared the Skywalk, and when we were waiting for our turn to go out, I kicked at the dirt, a little nervous.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Haven’t I proven that nothing is off limits by now?” She laughed, taking a swig of her water before offering it to me. I declined, holding up my own, and she screwed the cap back on. “What’s up?”
I shifted. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but, there’s this guy…”
“Always is,” she mused, offering me a knowing smile.
“We haven’t known each other long, but we kissed the other night.”
“And let me guess, now he’s being weird?”
I balked. “Yeah. Exactly. How did you know?”
Zoey chuckled, tightening the straps of her bag. “Trust me, they all do that — especially if you knock them on their ass, which I’m sure is the case with you and this guy. You’re beautiful, smart, funny — boys don’t know what to do with that when they actually have it.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” I said, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “He’s… complicated. It was amazing, the night we had together, but now he will barely look at me. I’m not sure what to do.”
“Hmm,” Zoey hummed, tapping her pointer finger on her chin. “Look, I don’t know the guy, but I’ll give you the advice that saved me. Every guy plays by their rules — so pay attention. What does he respond to, and how does he communicate? Even if it’s out of character for you, you might have to play his game now and then to knock some sense into him. Now,” she said, holding her finger up. “This does not mean change who you are — because you should never change, not for anyone, least of all a guy. But, if you like him, and you think he likes you, then let him know you’re not going anywhere. And don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone to show him you can play his game just as well as he can.”
My wheels were turning, trying to think of what game Emery would play, but I came up blank. Maybe he was different from the guys Zoey had been with. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Emery was different from everyone.
“Thanks,” I said, though I wasn’t sure exactly what to do with what she’d told me — at least, not yet.
She smiled. “Sure thing. You ready?” She nodded toward the skywalk, and we looped arms again, boys forgotten for the moment.
We made our way toward the horseshoe-shaped glass bridge that hung over the edge of the canyon, and when we stepped out onto it, our dusty sneakers hitting the glass, a new kind of magic found me.
Up until that point in my life, there had only been three moments when something shifted in me — the day I lost my leg, the day I realized what I wanted to do for my career, and the night Emery Reed kissed my lips. All of those moments had changed me, had propelled me into a new chapter, a new version of myself.
None of them compared to what I felt when I walked out onto that bridge.
It was completely made of glass — the walls, the railing, the floor — and my breath caught in my throat as I eased my way out, hands shaking as I pulled my arm from Zoey’s. My fingers trembled still as they slid along the smooth glass stabilizing me, eyes trying to find a focus that felt impossible to grasp. I looked all around, yet I couldn’t see everything — I would have had to stand there for years. The canyon was so beautiful, the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting the red rocks in an orange, heavenly glow. It seemed to span on forever, the dips and valleys and peaks, every inch of it rich in age and history.
I stopped at the apex of the horseshoe, leaning my elbows on the railing and peering over the edge. There were other tourists around me, most of them snapping selfies with the canyon in the background, but I left my phone tucked away, trying my best to take it all in with my eyes, instead.
I felt everything in that moment — the beat of my heart in my chest, the breath as it left my lungs before I inhaled again, the breeze through my hair, the sun on my cheeks. I felt everything I had been up until that moment, and somehow, I felt everything I would become after. It seemed like that was a turning point for me — before and after the Grand Canyon. And before I even realized it was happening, a tear fell from my wet cheek onto the railing where my hands gripped tight.
No one seemed to notice me as life rocked through me for possibly the first time on the edge of that canyon. No one asked me if I was okay, or offered me a tissue, and I was thankful. It was my moment, one meant for no one else, and for the first time, I felt alive — truly, one-hundred percent alive.
It was my rebirth.
I’m not sure how long I stood there, but it was long enough for the sun to fade away, settling the canyon in a purple dusk as the tour guides ushered us back to the busses. I hugged Zoey in a sort of trance when we had to part ways, and she just smiled, because she got it — she knew.
“Keep in touch, okay?” she said, squeezing me tight. We had to board opposite busses, hers heading to a different hotel, and I hugged her with a thanks I couldn’t voice.
“Will do. Take care, Zoey.”
We shared a smile when we pulled back, and then just as quickly as she had come in, Zoey walked out of my life.
But I’d never forget her.