Coming Home(181)

God, she wanted to. She wanted to say his name. She wanted to hear his name. She wanted to talk about him every minute of every day of every week until she could make sense of everything that had happened.

Until she could figure out a way back into his heart.

But whenever she thought about him, it hurt so badly she could hardly breathe through it.

She couldn’t stand not being part of his life anymore—couldn’t stand the thought of him alone in that place. She hated picturing him in a cell, wondering if he was sad, or scared, or angry. Wondering if he was lonely. Wondering if he thought of her even a fraction of the times she thought about him.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without him,” she said, her chin trembling as the words left her mouth. “I miss him.”

“Of course you do,” Holly said. “Let yourself miss him. Don’t fight that.”

Leah nodded as two tears slipped over her lashes, and she swiped at them quickly.

“But what you’ve been doing these past few weeks? That’s not missing him. That’s mourning him. There’s a difference.”

Leah raised her eyes to Holly’s.

“And I’m sorry, but I won’t let you do that. It’s not over for you guys. So there’s nothing to mourn.”

“Holly—”

“Remember when we were in seventh grade,” Holly said, cutting her off, “and N’SYNC was going to be on TRL? And we camped out in Times Square for two days so we could see them when they arrived?”

Leah pulled her brow together as she swiped at another tear. “Yeah.”

“And you had your whole plan. Do you remember?”

The corner of Leah’s mouth lifted in a half-hearted smile. “Yeah. I was going to sing for Justin Timberlake so he would take me on tour with the band.”

Holly laughed as she took another bite of her salad. “And what happened when he finally walked by you?”

“You shoved me, and I face-planted in front of everyone.”

“Hold on,” Holly said, holding up her hand, “what happened before that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happened before I pushed you?”

Leah shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Nothing. And why not? You had a plan. You practiced for weeks trying to make your voice sound a little less like a cat getting a root canal.”

Leah threw her napkin at Holly and she batted it away easily. “You were ready,” she said, not missing a beat. “So why didn’t you go through with it?”

“I don’t know,” Leah said, sifting through her salad. “I panicked.”

“Right. You freaked, and you bailed. So…I shoved you.”

“And I landed flat on my face in front of him with my skirt practically over my head!”

Holly pointed at Leah with her fork. “That wasn’t my fault. Who wears a skirt in the middle of January?”

A breathy laugh fell from Leah’s lips as she looked down at her salad.

“But you remember what happened after I shoved you, don’t you?”

Leah sighed. “He helped me up and asked if I was okay.”

“And?”

“And he helped me back behind the barricade.”

“And?”

Leah smiled softly. “And he signed my CD, and I got a picture with him.”

“Exactly. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Leah laughed to herself as she twirled her fork between her fingers.