Wednesday, July 13

BARCELONA to LONDON

Their plane back to London was delayed.

Again.

“Another hour.” Gabe returned from the flight desk, flopping into his chair beside Aubrey.

“It’s nearly ten o’clock,” Clara whimpered. “How did it get so late?”

“Don’t know,” Jonah said. “Because that’s how time works?” He’d gone to the magazine stand across the departure lounge a few minutes ago and brought back sodas and bags of potato chips. He tossed a bag at Clara. She caught it and pulled it open.

Aubrey was the only one not paying attention. She was reading the end of The Waves, completely rapt. Rae’s sketchbook was propped against her bent legs, and she was drawing each of them in turn—Clara curled up in her seat, one of her two braids undone; Gabe looking around, interested in everything going on nearby; Jonah eating chips; Aubrey reading.

In a few hours, when they finally landed in London, it would be after midnight. Lucy would be waiting at Heathrow to drive Rae home, and when they reached the house, Iorek would dance around the kitchen while Lucy made peppermint tea. She would chastise Rae for not even mentioning getting her hair cut. She would ask to look through all her photographs and sketches. She would ask her how she felt now that the trip was over.

And Rae would say she felt exactly the same and completely different.

There was no other way to describe it.

Aubrey looked up from her book, eyes brimming with tears. “That was the best book I’ve ever read,” she said.

“Oh no.” Clara yawned, pressing her cheek to Rae’s shoulder. “Is it sad? Does someone die at the end?”

“I don’t really know.” Aubrey sniffled. “It might be about how we’re all going to die eventually?”

“Bummer,” Jonah said. His phone chimed, and he wiped chip crumbs from his hands before checking it.

“Poor Bryce,” Gabe said. He placed his arm on the armrest between them so it lined up exactly with hers. Rae watched them, searching for a clue as to what had happened at Zaida’s party two nights ago. Aubrey had said they were okay again, but clearly there was more to it than that. They didn’t hold hands or kiss—not in front of the rest of them, at least—but something was connecting them in a way they hadn’t been connected before. They seemed drawn together even when they weren’t physically close.

“I know what will cheer you up,” Rae said and closed her sketchbook. “Aubs. Come with me.”

Together, they passed long banks of empty seats and stopped at the huge windows that looked onto the tarmac. Sleek airplanes waited in the dark, poised for flight.

“This is what’s going to cheer me up?” Aubrey asked. “Looking at planes?”

“We’re in an airport,” Rae said. “I’ve only got so much to work with.”

Aubrey’s mouth flicked upward. “Well, when you put it that way.”

There weren’t many flights boarding just then, and the terminal felt vacant and kind of sparse. Rae liked how still everything seemed, how the only people around drank coffee or typed quietly on their laptops. How, here, even time felt like it was moving a little slower. Through the glass, she saw a plane take off, heard a whoosh as it lifted into the air. It was all so different from what she’d become used to—the unending clatter of trains, the nearness of their coming and going.

“I’d never flown anywhere until I moved to London,” Aubrey said, staring at the plane’s blinking lights as it climbed higher and higher. “Did I ever tell you that?”

“Seriously?” Rae said. “Me neither.”

“You hadn’t?” Aubrey pulled away from the window.

“Nope. Lucy and I used to drive everywhere. She pretends she’s fine with it, but she actually hates flying.”

“My parents thought I would hate it, too,” Aubrey said, “since I was such a nervous kid. But I kept reading so many books about London and seeing so many movies that were set there. I couldn’t wait to find out if it would live up.”

Rae scrutinized her best friend’s features. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Obviously.”

“I was totally afraid. I cried the whole way from Atlanta to London.”

Aubrey’s face split into a smile. “That’s not possible! How were you more scared of something than I was?”

Rae twisted one of the metal buttons on her denim jacket. “Life’s full of unanswerable questions, I guess.”

They both faced the window as another plane got ready to take off. The denim jacket was one Rae had borrowed from Clara, and she’d painted her nails the same purple as Clara’s as well—although she’d chipped half the polish off already. “Okay,” she said. “Your turn to tell me a secret. What’s the deal with you and Gabe now?”

“There’s no deal.” Aubrey put her hands on the glass. “I’m leaving in a few weeks. So we’re going to spend those weeks together.”

“A few weeks? Is that it?”

“For now, anyway. And that’s not exactly nothing.”

Rae hugged her jacket around herself. “I’ve got less than a day, I guess.”

Aubrey’s gaze tracked a curling line that moved across the sky. “Let’s hang out tomorrow. We’ll go to Borough Market and get free samples from all the food stalls. Then we’ll get buzzed on strong coffee and sit on the lawn outside the Tate Modern until the absolute last second we can. You, me, and Clara.”

“That,” Rae said, “sounds awesome.”

“It does, right?” Aubrey seemed hopeful now, but Rae felt kind of sad. She tried to memorize the feeling of standing right there. She wanted to make sure that when she thought of this night later, she would think of her and Aubrey.

Blending into each other. Part of the same thing.

Eventually, Clara’s voice called them over. “Our flight’s about to board. We might actually leave this time.”

Clara was holding Rae’s sketchbook, and she was wearing one of Rae’s shirts—an oversize button-up with the sleeves cut off that Rae had bought at a charity shop junior year. “Will you show me what you were working on?” Clara asked.

“Yeah,” Rae said. “But fair warning: It’s still pretty rough.” She and Clara bowed over the sketchbook as Rae flipped through the pictures she’d drawn over the nearly two weeks they’d been gone—the first one was of the Seine, a river of glittering black ink that sliced through the center of the page, Clara sitting on its bank, her hair whipping around her face. Rae got to the pictures she’d drawn on that frenzied sleepless night in Amsterdam: one of the five of them sprawled out on the train from Paris; one of the houseboat party and teenagers dancing on a deck; one of Aubrey and Gabe by a canal, their bodies fluid with conversation, as fluid as the water they were balanced beside.

The last picture was drawn in ink—Rae hadn’t wanted to start with pencil; she’d wanted it to feel permanent.

It was Aubrey, Gabe, Clara, and Jonah. Waiting for a plane.

The woman at their gate picked up a phone and made an announcement. She told them to get their boarding passes and passports ready. There was a stir in the departure lounge as people began to gather their things.

“Here we go, kids.” Jonah slid his phone into his back pocket. “Real life begins right now.”

“This has been real life,” Clara said defensively.

“Fine,” Jonah said. “Real Life: Part Two.”

Gabe took Aubrey’s paperback and put it neatly in his bag for her. She looked cold, so he gave her his hoodie, and she pulled the sleeves down over her hands. They didn’t make eye contact, and they weren’t speaking right then, but Rae could almost hear the quiet words they weren’t saying, the plans they were silently making for all the upcoming days they’d have together.

Next to her, Clara had gone back to examining the picture. “You didn’t add yourself,” she said.

“Huh?” Rae said.

“This sketch. It’s of all of us. But you should be in it, too. Maybe you can draw another from a picture.” She took Rae’s camera bag and waved down their friends. “No one’s allowed to leave yet!”

Aubrey groaned. “But it’s so late. And we all look sleepy.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Clara said. “These are our last minutes in Barcelona. We need an honest representation of how they happened.” She herded them into a group by the line of people boarding the plane. Clara held the camera out in front of them.

“This will never work,” Jonah said.

“Can you even tell if we’re all in it?” Gabe asked.

“It’s totally fine if I’m not!” Aubrey said.

“Guys,” Rae said, “Clara will make this rad, trust me.”

“Thank you.” Clara kissed Rae’s cheek. And Rae closed her eyes. And as she did, the flash went off in front of her, a bright purple-blue starburst. Everyone yelped and complained.

Another announcement came from their gate. A final call for boarding. Aubrey, Gabe, and Jonah made their way into the line, but Clara and Rae lingered for one more moment.

“We should check the picture,” Clara said. “Make sure it looks all right.”

“Let’s post it online right now,” Rae said. “Aubrey will love us.”

But Jonah was right—it hadn’t worked at all. Rae’s eyes were closed, and Clara’s face was a pale smudge as she kissed her cheek. Jonah was sticking out his tongue, and Gabe and Aubrey weren’t looking at the camera, because they were looking at each other.

It almost seemed like an illusion. The five of them in this completely new arrangement. Standing together in a way that, when this trip began, they never could have dreamed of. But also, it made perfect sense.

Completely different.

Exactly the same.

“Rae?” Clara whispered. Their hands clasped. “It’s time to go.”

“Okay,” Rae said, but she kissed Clara one last time. It was a kiss to make her grounded, a kiss to make her still. A kiss to let her swallow every last fragile second of this day and this trip. Rae felt those seconds filling her lungs. She felt each one freezing, like a photograph she could take out and look at later.

The kiss ended, and color blotched Clara’s cheeks. “We should go,” she said. “Are you ready?”

Rae squeezed Clara’s hand in return. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m ready now.”