Page 71 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)

I rode to the airport alone. Becka hadn’t been able to face the trip.

“I can’t say goodbye to you twice.” Her voice wavered on the words. “Just once; a clean break.”

I chuckled, but it was a hollow sound that fell to the floor. “Becka, we’re not breaking up. I’m just relocating.”

Becka nodded, her chin wobbling. “I know that up here.” She tapped her forehead with one delicately manicured nail.

“But here,” she said as she pressed her other hand to her chest, “it feels like you’re leaving me forever.

I guess I got used to the idea of you always being here.

” Her eyes fell to the floor, but though they were lowered, I saw the way they glistened.

“Hey.” I grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at me. “I have been and shall always be your friend.”

Becka stared at me for one beat, two, three.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

I burst out laughing, so forcefully I had to bend over as tears rolled down my face; at least half of them bittersweet.

It took me a hot minute to calm down enough to stand back up, meeting her stern, but also somehow soft expression.

“I thought for a second you hadn’t recognised it.”

Becka rolled her eyes at me. “You lived here less than a year and yet we somehow got through every Star Trek film ever released. Obviously, something stuck.”

Impulsively, I grabbed her, pulling her towards me so tight she had to take a step forward or risk falling. “I love you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with all the tears I refused to shed.

“I love you, too.” She rubbed my back and for a time, we just stood there in each other’s embrace, until headlights illuminated us and a car pulled up to where we stood.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, turning around just as Becka raised a hand to her face, swiping under her eyes.

A car idled behind me, and as I bent down to the window, it rolled down.

“Kaiya Thompson?” The driver, a woman of indeterminate age leaned over, glancing behind me to where my two rucksacks and a larger duffel bag sat. The sum total of my life in LA.

“That’s me.” I confirmed.

“I’ll pop the trunk. You need a hand with those?”

“Nah, I got them. Thanks.”

I turned back to Becka, who was now staring down the street, as if mentally following the route I would be taking.

“You should go back inside. It’s cold.” My hands felt suddenly useless, so I shoved them into my pockets.

Becka looked at her smart watch. “It’s 60 degrees.”

I looked at my own smart watch. “That’s 16 degrees Celsius. That’s cold.”

She looked at me, smiling, though a tear trailed down her cheek. “You’ve gotten soft.”

“I’ll always be soft for you.” My own smile trembled, but I yanked it back into place through sheer force of will.

“Come on,” she said, “I helped you lug these downstairs; I might as well help you put them in the car.” She grabbed my duffel, and I followed, grabbing my two rucksacks, and together we dumped them in the boot and closed it.

“Get in, I’m not standing out here all night.” She jerked her chin towards the car door. I obliged, barely hesitating before I slid onto the back seat .

Becka closed the door behind me and I hurried to put the window down. “I’ll call you when I arrive.”

Becka scoffed. “Wait until it’s at least decent LA hours though, ok?”

I huffed, “Yeah, ok.”

We were both silent a moment, and I was grateful that the driver ? Janice, according to the ID on the back the seat in front of me ? seemed to understand that we needed a second.

“Did you ever know that you’re my hero?” Becka deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re everything I would like to be,” I said, nodding.

“I can fly higher than an eagle,” Becka suddenly burst into song, making Janice jump.

“AND YOU ARE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS!” I joined in, our voices unlovely and clashing, sound forcing past the lumps in our throats and both of us heaving with sobs, the tears I’d been trying not to let fall, now falling freely down my cheeks.

“Go,” Becka urged, hitting the top of the car twice.

“Yes, please, can we go?” I directed this to Janice.

“Sure.” She put her indicator on and we pulled away from the kerb.

I spun around in my seat, unable to take my eyes off my best friend as she wrapped her arms around herself, openly sobbing as she watched me drive away. I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my own cries.

“You’re gonna be okay, honey,” Janice said kindly, holding a pack of tissues behind her shoulder. I gratefully took the box.

“I know,” I said wetly.

The song on the radio faded away as the host began speaking, his voice a vague rumble until Janice nudged the sound up a couple clicks.

“As Christmas swiftly approaches, I hope we can all get some well-deserved rest. Doesn’t it just feel like this year has been such a trip, folks? I know some of you have had a real challenging year, with the US GDP expected to fall further as we head into the New Year.

“But here’s my prediction; I really believe the next year is going to be such a monumental year. I mean, just think of it, it’s such a milestone year .

“Something tells me that 2020 is going to be the year that changes everything.

“What do you think, folks, are you going to be sorry to see the back of 2019? Call in and let me know. In the meantime, let’s have some more music. Here with a song we just couldn’t get away from this year, the runaway smash hit from the South Korean super band, GVibes. Here’s 'Fall In Love'.”

I smiled as the first notes played, filling the car with voices so familiar to me as I watched the glow of the streetlamps as we passed. The background of LA’s frenetic pulse almost like a lullaby as we sped towards the airport; towards the next chapter of my life.