Page 37 of The Last Trip

“It seems like it would be fun. I work from home, so it can be sort of…quiet.” I nearly saylonely, but I catch myself.

“Oh, wow. I get too in my head for that,” she says. “I need people around.” There’s a nervous giggle. “Probably the root of my trouble with men, actually. I get a little lonely and make bad decisions.”

I point to the tan line from a ring on her finger. “You’re married?”

Self-consciously, she looks down. “Sort of?”

“How can you be sort of married?” I ask with a dry laugh. The seriousness on her face tells me this is no laughing matter, though, so I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really have girlfriends anymore, since I graduated, so it’s nice to talk to someone, honestly.”

“Me either,” I admit. “Actually, I’m in college now. A late bloomer. But even there, I tend to keep to myself. So feel free to dish. Or whatever the cool kids are calling it these days.” I wiggle my fingers at her, as if drawing the gossip out.

She’s quiet for a while, stirring her fruit around. “He’s controlling, I guess. Not abusive or anything, but he controls what I eat and what I wear. He has to have everything just so, you know? I’m the opposite, and maybe some of it is good, honestly.” She puffs out a breath of air, blowing hair from her eyes. “My mom always said I needed structure.”

“Are you close with your mom?”

“She died a few years ago,” she admits.

“Oh. Mine’s sick. Dementia. She hasn’t recognized me in a few months.” I hadn’t meant to be so honest, but somehow, it slipped out. I want to trust her. I desperately need to trust someone I can talk to about all of this, and Cal doesn’t exactly screamempathetic listenermost days. He’s too focused on fixing things, making it better step by step, to provide emotional support.

Ellie surprises me by taking my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

I give her a small smile. “Me too.” Suddenly, our age difference is clear, and I want to help her out of this situation. I’m probably less than a decade older, but that experience has to account for something, right? “So why haven’t you left the controlling guy? Does he have a name?”

She hesitates. “It’s complicated. I love him. He’s also kind of…all I have.”

I swallow. “Well, not anymore.”

Her smile is sad.

“I just mean, if you need someone to talk to, I’m around.”

“Thanks, Sadie.”

“Anytime.”

“And same to you,” she says. “If you need a friend, I’m here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

HER — BEFORE

I never knew I was into girls until Ellie and I started spending more time together. I guess I’ve always found them attractive, as in celebrities, but I’ve never met a woman in real life that I’m attracted to in the way that I found her attractive.

Of course, she’s married, and I’m dating Cal, but it’s something I’m becoming increasingly aware of as we spend more time together. Which is why, when she kisses me out of the blue one day, everything changes.

I had no idea if she felt the same, no idea if I was being completely delusional about our chances, about the meaning behind her lingering looks.

The minute she leans in, I think she’s going to get a fuzz from my hair or something, but instead, her eyes close. When our lips touch, it’s as if the entire world opens up, like I’m seeing color for the first time. We’ve been seeing each other every day after class, and yes, I’ve been coming every day rather than weekly like before, but until now, I could tell myself it was just because I finally had a friend after so long of feeling alone. And that was mostly true.

I’ve always thought of sexuality as being fluid. Like for the right person, nearly everyone could swing to one end of thespectrum or the other, but that has never been more clear for me than with Ellie.

We’re standing outside of the açai bowl shop, preparing to hug before we walk away like we always do, and her lips are on mine as all thoughts seem to halt. Nothing else matters at this moment, nothing else exists. Not Cal or her husband or school or our age difference or the fact that this is all new to me. There is only one single thought running through my mind—so this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

The kiss—like most perfect things—ends too soon, bringing us crashing back down to reality.

She covers her mouth. “Oh my god, Sadie. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

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