Page 111 of The Lucky One

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the blanket. The Shields had turned on the air conditioning even though it was only the beginning of May. Now I was always freezing because I wasn’t used to it. Air conditioning wasn’t big in Germany.

Paul came in and closed the door behind him. When he saw me all bundled up in the blanket like a burrito, his expression softened and he shuffled over, scooping up my makeshift cocoon and pulling me into his warm embrace. I surrendered to a flood of tears, letting them roll down my cheeks onto his chest. With Paul there was no need to hide anything; a single glance was all it took for him to understand my unspoken pain. That was his superpower.

He picked up my laptop from the nightstand and put on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. For a while we enveloped ourselves in the fictional drama.

Paul finally broke the silence. “I talked to him today.”

I stirred more than I had in the past few hours combined. “With Jon?”

Paul nodded. “It wasn’t easy... He said weird stuff like needing more time to fix things. I don’t know. He didn’t look good, to be honest.”

“So you’re not angry with him anymore?” I asked, not wanting to make it immediately about myself.

“About him”—with air quotes—“stealing you? I mean... I’m okay now.” He squeezed my cheek. “In the end, I was standing in the way of you two finding each other. So now I’m only mad at him for messing it up.”

I waited for him to continue but he was watching Grey again. I hit the space bar on the keyboard to pause it. I was almost too afraid to ask because hope had taken root again. “He didn’t tell you what’s going on with him?”

Paul sighed. “No, he didn’t. I’m sorry, Emi.”

I shuffled into the kitchen with a blanket draped around me, going for my usual afternoon coffee. Gena tapped me on the shoulder. “I’ve got something for you,” she said, holding up an envelope with my name written in my own hand.

Gasping, I took it from her, forgetting the caffeine. We moved into the living room, taking seats on the couch, and I eagerly tore open the envelope.

“What is it?” she asked.

“During my exchange program preparation week, we had to write to our future selves,” I explained. I had completely forgotten what I had written. Now it felt like receiving a letter from someone else. Gena squeezed my shoulder before stepping away to give me some privacy.

Snuggling back, I pulled out a sheet of paper and began to read.

Der future Emi,

My English isn’t good yet. But that change now? Right?

This weekend we got a lot tips; you wrote them all down. Don’t contact friends, family much. Don’t use bad words. Don’t wear shirts with logos. I don’t understand that one, but you maybe now know.

I chuckled. I still didn’t get that advice. Everyone around here dressed however they pleased. Curse words weren’t a big deal for most people, and not contacting friends from home would only made it harder to readjust when we went back. Honestly, the program needed some tweaking to actually prepare exchange students for their visits.

I’m scared to go, but I am more scared to stay. I hope me, you, gone helped. Did you get your adventure? I wish to have life like High School movies. Is it fun?

“What a bad wish,” I whispered to myself. In those days I only saw the excitement in those movies, overlooking the challenges the main character had to confront. I suppose I thought I would be experiencing it from a side character’s perspective, but in a way, I had become the protagonist—just without the happy ending.

I continued reading.

Please tell me you don’t called doll anymore. You need to get confident to stand up to Sophie, Lisa and Jasmine... and Richard. Is he treating Mama better now that you’re gone?

I swallowed. I didn’t know what was going on at home. No one really told me anything except “good.”

Papa called me today! He likes that we’re doing this. I don’t know if he thinks it’s really good or if he likes us being not with Richard and Mama. I positive that he will call more often now.

And yet I hadn’t talked to him ever since I texted him to let him know I’d arrived in America. He didn’t even check in at Christmas or New Year’s.

But what I most curious about is... did you fall in love? Not too much though, just a little. Remember we not staying forever. We got to get back to our family and Pani. I asked if I could take him, but they said no ?

Did you get a football player? They must be so hot!

I cringed. I barely recognized myself in this person writing to me anymore.

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