Page 60 of Kingmakers, Graduation

All I want is Sabrina beside me.

I want that wild look in her eye, that quick wit, that fucking fire, the only flame I’ve encountered that burns hotter than mine.

Without her, I’m dull and unmotivated, unable to raise the slightest interest in my journey back home or what I’ll do once I get there.

I stand by the car so long that the parking attendant passes by twice to chastise me. Still I stay, a fool till the end.

A jumbo jet rises in the air—Sabrina’s airline, probably her plane. It soars up like a bird, glinting in the sun, hateful to me in every way.

Watching it shrink in size and fly away from me is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced.

I didn’t think it would hurt this much. I thought I was ready.

I take several deep breaths, knowing I have to return to the house. I’ll have to mask this sick churning in my guts while Rafe tries to rib me and my mother scans my face for the evidence of what she senses but is too kind to say out loud.

I should have hidden it better all along. I shouldn’t have exposed myself like this.

It was impossible. I fell for Sabrina like a boulder tumbling off a cliff. The boulder was the size of a house. Now it’s landed on my chest.

When the plane disappears in the clouds, I finally turn back to the car.

Only to hear my name screamed at top volume: “ADRIK!!!”

If I could bottle that joy that bubbles up in me like pure, liquid sunshine, I’d be the richest man in the world.

Before I can even turn, she’s leaping into my arms. She’s breathtaking, she literally steals the breath from my lungs, hair streaming behind her like a banner, face illuminated with radiant light, hands outstretched to me, skin flushed with sprinting. Her scent hits me—headyand warm, mocha and almond. I gulp it down, my whole head floating, high as a kite.

Nothing has ever felt better than her trembling body clasped tight in my arms.

She’s shaking against me, clinging to me with all her strength, her arms around my neck, legs around my waist. She kisses me over and over, on my mouth, my cheeks, my forehead, my lips again.

I squeeze her too hard, I must be hurting her but I can’t stop.

She came back. She came back to me.

Sabrina presses her cheek against mine, saying fiercely, “It’s crazy and I don’t care. I want to be crazy with you.”

I hold her tight, making a promise I know I won’t break:

“I’m never letting you walk away from me again.”

19

SABRINA

On September first, instead of boarding the ship in Dubrovnik, I fly to Moscow with Adrik.

I send my parents one single text:

I’m going to Russia

Then I shut off my phone so I don’t have to deal with the fallout of that particular bomb.

I feel strangely calm all through the flight. Now that my decision is made, I’m no longer pulled apart at the seams. My confidence returns, and I fill with excitement.

Adrik likewise seems altered.

He’s dressed in his usual way—t-shirt, jeans, boots, same battered leather jacket he wore the day he picked me up in Dubrovnik. And yet he’s different here in the Moscow airport, amongst the throngs of people who look somewhat like Americans do, but not quite the same.

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