Page 51 of On the Way to You
For a second I just sat there, even as the other passengers around me started shuffling off the bus, cameras at the ready. When I finally stood, it was like I was in a trance, my feet moving me out the door on autopilot while my eyes adjusted.
There was a reason they called it the Grand Canyon.
It was grand. There was no better word for it.
The depth of it, the magnitude — it was breathtaking. I couldn’t see it all, couldn’t take it all in at once, so I just stood there, eyes grazing each and every inch of the canyons while the cool Arizona breeze whipped through my hair.
“Amazing, right?” a soft voice said from my right, and I turned to find a girl about my age, maybe a little older, smiling back at me. She had fire-red hair and freckles lining her cheeks, with blue aviator glasses hiding her eyes and a friendly smile aimed right at me.
“It’s… I don’t have words.”
“I know. This is my second time here. I did the south bend last time, but I had to come do the Skywalk.” She pulled a bottle of water from the side pouch of her bag, taking a sip. “I’m Zoey.”
“Cooper.”
She smiled. “Want to be hiking buddies today? I heard there are some picnic tables down this way if we want to venture along the edge for a while. Do the skywalk last? I’ve been driving alone for a few days and would love some company.”
Zoey seemed so genuine, the way she smiled and waited for my answer, and truthfully, I didn’t want to be alone that day, either. So, I nodded, offering her a smile of my own as I pulled the straps of my backpack tighter.
“Actually, that would be great. The friend I’m with is…” My voice faded. “He’s not feeling well, so I came out by myself today.”
“It’s kismet then,” she conceded, then she looped her arm in mine and tugged me toward the canyon.
And so I set off with my new friend, and the great day I’d been feeling that morning in yoga started to bloom, even if it was without Emery.
Zoey loved to talk — even more than me. We were quite the pair, jabbering the entire time as we walked the edge of the canyon, pausing here and there to take photos. I found out Zoey was from a small town, too — in Rhode Island, of all places — and she left as soon as she turned eighteen. She’d been traveling the country ever since, writing a travel blog to sustain herself. It was fascinating, hearing about her loyal readers and supporters. I pulled up the site when we stopped at a picnic table, bookmarking it to explore later.
“So, you just started writing about the local places in your home state,” I said, scrolling through one of her posts on her blog. “And people started following? And then requesting places they wanted you to go?”
She nodded, biting off a big hunk of an oat bar. “Mm-hmm. It started with them wanting me to come to their towns, to little places they loved, and then they started picking places on the map. Before I knew it, they were donating on my website to help sustain me, and then when I put together my first book, they were rabid. Since then, I’ve started doing pod casts and motivational speaking. It’s crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t lived in the same place for longer than three months since I turned twenty-one.”
“Wow,” I breathed, trying to imagine what that would be like. I was in awe just from what I’d seen since leaving Mobile and crossing six states. What would it be like to travel theworld?
Zoey told me about her first trip to Europe, about how she fell in love for the first time with a German university student. She told me about their first kiss in front of the remains of the Berlin Wall, and I teared up a little as her eyes glossed over, the memory leaving her lips and finding my ears. It was magical, just like my first kiss with Emery, but she had only known him for two weeks before she was off to the next place.
“I fell in love with him, even though I knew I’d be leaving,” she confessed. “I’ve never been scared of love, of feelings, of falling hopelessly for another human being. Yes, it hurts to leave, or to lose it, but it’s also amazing to live it. It’s worth it, to me, to have the experience.”
When we started our hike back to the Skywalk, I also learned that Zoey had had several boyfriends all around the world, and she told me about each of them, showing me pictures on her phone. I loved listening to her stories of how she met them, of their time together, of how they kept in touch when she left. Some of them she sees when she passes through their cities, some of them are married now, and some of them fell apart when she left.
One thing was for sure — Zoey was no stranger to boys or the messes that came with them.
Maybe that was why I tossed through every question I had for her as we neared the Skywalk, and when we were waiting for our turn to go out, I kicked at the dirt, a little nervous.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Haven’t I proven that nothing is off limits by now?” She laughed, taking a swig of her water before offering it to me. I declined, holding up my own, and she screwed the cap back on. “What’s up?”
I shifted. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but, there’s this guy…”
“Always is,” she mused, offering me a knowing smile.
“We haven’t known each other long, but we kissed the other night.”
“And let me guess, now he’s being weird?”
I balked. “Yeah. Exactly. How did you know?”
Zoey chuckled, tightening the straps of her bag. “Trust me, theyalldo that — especially if you knock them on their ass, which I’m sure is the case with you and this guy. You’re beautiful, smart, funny — boys don’t know what to do with that when they actually have it.”