Page 133 of Wonderstruck

2.You can't be pretty and charming, it's not fair.

3.What's unfair is that all it takes is a smile to win every argument we'll ever have.

chapter thirty six

come on, ruin the day

“We will shortly be arriving in Glacier Park International; cabin crew, please prepare for landing.”

The captain’s voice spilt through the overheadspeakers, drifting off into terminology that was lost on me, especially when I had more pressing matters to focus on. Like why I couldn’t feel my hand anymore.

I turned my head to find Rory, still gnawing onher bottom lip, her eyes tracing the clouds, like she had been the entire flight, and her hand still squeezing mine like I owed her money. I couldn’t help but let my lip curl up into a half smile as I watched her, pride completely outweighing the pain in my hand.

She hadn’t really spoken to us in the airport, onlyeating because I got her a cherry Danish, her favourite, and I knew her well enough to know that she’d eat it, purely because she’d feel bad if she didn’t. It was a snaky tactic, sure, but it meant she’d eaten, and that made my heart settle at least.

To say she was nervous was the understatementof the century. And I didn’t blame her one bit.

I'dtried to shake the memory of when I'd found her crying in the shade of St Bee's this past summer, but it was like the image had been burned in my brain, a perminant reminder of that version of her. The haunted look on her face when she spotted me, the palest I’d ever seen that gorgeous brown skin, the tears. All of it.

That morning after telling her I loved her, she opened up a little, going through the parts of that day only her and her thoughts knew about.She had done something that Daisy and I weretoo young to remember, and just thinking about it me squeeze her hand back, her head darting over to me for the first time since we took off.

I smiled at her. “How are you feeling?” I already had a good indication of the feelings occupying her mind, but still, I wanted her to answer. Wanted her to let them out so they weren’t weighing her down.

A slight smile graced her face, while hershoulders rolled. “Nervous.” She whispered, a slight crack in her voice. “There’s just… memories, you know.”Her eyes were back on the clouds.

I nodded. “I know.” Another squeeze of herhand earned me that golden-flecked stare. “But you know that if you want to go then we’ll be on the first flight back—”

“I’dbe on the next flight back.” Her other hand pointed at my chest. “You’dbe staying put. I couldn’t drag you away from your home on Christmas—”

“Drag? Believe me, if I had the chance tonot see my Dad, I’d fly the plane myself.” A light laugh stuttered from me, before realising what I’d said.

Apart from Goldie’s birthday party, where itseemed everything I’d kept from Rory was suddenly ready to come out, I hadn’t spoken much about Dad. It was easy to forget him, seeing as though I’d decided to stop answering his calls altogether sometime in October. Odd? Sure. Considering that he was why I’d waited so long to have her by my side. But I didn’t want to talk about him.

But then again, I didn’t feel pressured to. If Rory wanted to know something, she’d ask. Just like that night she kissed me. But she hadn’t, and part of me was thankful for that.

So, instead of fighting me, muttering words ofencouragement that everything would be alright, she simply smiled at me and asked, “Can I be co-pilot if you want to fly?”

My eyes fell to my lap, a smile shining down tomy jeans.

What did I do to deserve her?

Her eyes dipped to meet mine, stealing my stareback. “You know that ifyouwant to go back to New York, I’ll be on the first flight back with you.” Her smile lit up, tracing every part of my face, and I did the same with her.

Home seemed to be a complicated word for bothof us. For me, it was where meals were made, horses were ridden, and pride never seemed to come from the only person that it was meant to. For her, it was the place she grew up, where she fell in love with a sport she was falling back in love with, and where the people who raised her were simply there in spirit.

Wewere two halves of the same broken heart. In a way that's impossible to find. Everything she's been through, I've been through too. And every time I look into her eyes I see it—the same battles, the same ghosts, the same quiet ache that we never let the rest of the world see. Coming home this time would be hard—on both of us. But together?

I turned to her, drowning in the colour of her gaze.

Maybe together we'd be okay.

I squeezed her hand back on more time. “Whenwe get there, can I introduce you as my girlfriend?”

The swirls of liquid gold in her eyes glowed, hersmile lines dimpling the corners of her eyes in a way that made me want to say,“Screw that; let's just tell them we’re already married.”

The thought flew through my head. Too soon. Iknew that. But, hey, if she were to turn to me and ask I’d find it very difficult not to say—

“Yes.”

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