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“From carrying around all that weight. From trying to find something that was already gone?”
I consider this. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Maybe just be present,” she suggests. “Maybe not so lost.”
Her words linger in the air. I hadn’t thought of myself as lost until now. I suppose, in a way, I was. Lost and always chasing what I though was my forever.
SEVENTEEN
The sound of excited knocking pulls me from a deep sleep. I roll over, reaching blindly for my phone to check the time: 8:17 a.m. Far too early for a day off.
The knocking continues, more insistent now.
“Hold on,” I grumble, stumbling out of bed. When I open the door, Justine stands there, already dressed in jeans, a vintage band tee, and a light jacket tied around her waist. Her lavender hair is tucked under a black beanie, and she’s practically bouncing with energy.
“It’s our day off in Boston,” she announces, like I might have forgotten. “Are you planning to sleep through it?”
I run a hand through my disheveled hair. “I was considering it.”
She pushes past me into the room. “Not happening. We have a whole city to explore and exactly twenty-four hours to do it.”
“Coffee first,” I mumble, shuffling toward the hotel room’s pitiful excuse for a coffee maker.
Justine produces a large to-go cup from behind her back. “Already handled.”
The rich aroma hits me as she removes the lid. I accept it gratefully, taking a long sip from the cardboard to go cup. Perfect.
“You remembered how I take it,” I say, surprised even though it’s pretty basic with cream.
“I pay attention,” she replies with a shrug, then perches on the edge of the desk. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan was to sleep.”
She rolls her eyes. “New plan. Shower, get dressed, meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.”
Before I can protest, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. I stare at the space she occupied moments ago, a smile tugging at my lips despite my fatigue.
Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, a zip up sweatshirt that despite costing a ridiculous amount looks like I thrifted it, and a beanie covering my hair, I find Justine in the lobby, consulting a map of Boston. She looks up when I approach, her face lighting up.
“You actually made it,” she says, folding the map into her pocket.
“I keep my promises.”
“I don’t recall you promising anything.”
“It was implied.”
She laughs, the sound bright and clear in the quiet lobby. “Come on, I have our whole day planned.”
Outside, Boston greets us with perfect fall weather—crisp air, brilliant blue sky, and just enough chill to justify the coffee warming my hands. Justine leads us toward the subway, confidently navigating the unfamiliar system like she’s lived here her whole life.
“How do you know where we’re going?” I ask as we board the train.
“Research,” she says simply. “I stayed up late last night mapping everything out.”
“Everything?”
“Well, the important stuff. Record stores, food spots, historical sites. The absolute musts for a day in Boston.”