Anywhere Read online

  For Steve

  (I'd go anywhere with you)

  one

  “Do you think there’s a phrase for this in French?” Paige called out from the tiny yellow bathroom, her voice wobbling. She looked so pale and awful with her cheek resting on the toilet seat, her eyes closed against the nausea. We’d been stuck for three days now in our cheap room with the dull brown comforters, lumpy beds, and cigarette smoke wafting in through the open windows.

  The only thing Paige had done so far was throw up. And feel like throwing up. And sleep.

  The only thing I had done was watch her. And feel bad. And worry.

  All those years I’d imagined what my first time in Paris would be like…it definitely hadn’t been this.

  “A phrase for what?” I said, and leaned against the doorway, watching her. God, she looked terrible.

  “Worshipping the throne?”

  “I thought it was called hugging the porcelain god.”

  “Whatever.” There was a ghost of a smile on her lips and a few wisps of light auburn hair slipped down her face. She brushed them back, tucked them behind her ear, and took a deep breath.

  “I’m sure they must. The French have words for practically everything.”

  Her smile grew bigger. “Smart ass.”

  “And you love me for it.”

  “I do. It’s true.” Her smile faded and she whispered, “I’m sorry, Skye.”

  “Stop apologizing.” I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and sank down to the floor next to her, the coldness of the tiles seeping through my jeans. “It’s not your fault. As soon as you’re better, we’ll really start our trip. I just wish you weren’t so sick.” I reached over and put my hand on her forehead. It was cool, a good sign. “It’s probably just food poisoning. That mystery meat you ate on the plane might have been bad, you know? And since you ate mine, too…I think that’s got to be it.”

  “I was hungry. Like really, really hungry.” She sighed, opened her honey-colored eyes. She looked confused. “I’m actually hungry right now. And nauseous.” She shook her head. “How is that even possible?”

  “How about I go get us some bread? There’s a bakery down on the corner.” It was so nice to have a reason to leave the hotel—I’d take any opportunity I got. I mean, I was in Paris. “And, hey. Look at it this way—it’s just food poisoning. It’ll pass. It’s not like you’re pregnant, right?”

  I forced a laugh, but inside I was shuddering. Morning sickness scared the crap out of me because my mother had been horribly sick the entire time she’d been pregnant with me, something she reminded me about EVERY time I upset her in some way. I’d spent a lifetime hearing about it. Throwing up every single day for nine months, she’d say. I’ve never felt worse in my life and now this is how you repay me?

  To hear her talk about it, you’d think she’d never have any more kids. And maybe she hadn’t planned to, because my brother didn’t show up until I was five. She hadn’t been sick with him, though. Apparently I’d been the torturous child.

  Still was.

  My being in Paris at the moment was my worst offense yet. In fact, I’d been reminded of it every single day since I’d dropped everything and decided to backpack through Europe. (And I do mean EVERYTHING.) I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone had gotten an earful about my lack of gratitude when she’d had to call them.

  “Seriously,” I said, “can you imagine feeling like that for nine months?” I shook off another shudder.

  “God, no. That would be…” Paige’s voice trailed off as I walked over to the drab little dresser to grab my bag. Then I checked our mini fridge to make sure there was still enough ginger ale. “Oh…shit.”

  “Does anything else sound good to you? Maybe some brie?”

  Paige had lifted her head, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. And she was staring at me.

  “What? Does that sound gross?”

  She shook her head, and her braid slipped off her shoulder. “Skye…I…Oh my god…” She had this look of dawning horror.

  No. It couldn’t be. I’d been joking when I said it.

  “Oh, Paige, please tell me you’re kidding. You’re just messing with me. Right?”

  “I’m trying to think,” she said in a tight whisper. “It’s been a long time, like I can’t remember how long at the moment. With graduation and then everything with you, I just didn’t notice.” She looked at me. “What am I going to do?”

  Danny—Paige’s boyfriend—flashed into my mind. I’d known him since way before he and Paige had even thought about dating because he was Blaine’s best friend. When he and Paige had hooked up, it had been so much fun to be best friends dating best friends. It had almost been enough to make me want to stay with Blaine. Almost.

  Danny had accompanied us to LaGuardia even though I’d insisted we could do it ourselves. I mean, we were on our way to backpack around Europe. By ourselves. If we couldn’t make it to LaGuardia on our own, we had no business going on the damn trip.

  But Danny wouldn’t take no for an answer. I think he just didn’t want to say goodbye until he had to (and if their kiss at the airport was any indication, I’m totally right). And he was probably peeved at me for taking her away from him for the next several months (not to mention the fact that I was running out on his best friend).

  The trip to Europe hadn’t exactly been the plan for this summer. At least not the most recent plan, although I’d had my heart set on it for the past four years. Graduate from college, spend the summer backpacking across Europe, then figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. My mom had nixed the idea when I wanted to go right after high school (I’d already gotten my passport by then, and my guidebooks were well on their way to becoming dog-eared) and suggested I wait until after college. She’d probably been hoping I’d lose interest, but if anything, it made me more focused on going.

  Then things changed. Or got changed. Blaine happened junior year. And my plans were pushed aside.

  Until five days ago, that is, when I’d called Paige in a panic and asked her if, instead of being my maid of honor, she wanted to spend a couple of months in Europe with me. I may have begged and pleaded, too. And I cried when she said yes without even thinking it over.

  But that’s my Paige. The girl doesn’t have a practical bone in her body. She never thinks things through and is the first to agree to ANY scheme or adventure. I love that about her.

  We’re polar opposites, me and Paige. And somehow a perfect fit. She brings out the wild in me and I inspire her to be more practical—at least every once in a while. Truth be told, I need the wild more than she needs the practical. We’ve been friends since the first day of freshman orientation. Paige is just…she’s the best.

  And I couldn’t believe she might actually be pregnant. Or well, I could because she’s Paige, except that’s the one area of her life that she’s always been ultra careful. She always has a condom in her pocket or bag just in case. ALWAYS. And is very strict about using them every single time—no ifs, ands, or buts.

  “Okay,” I said, grabbing her a soda. “I’m going to run out for the bread, brie, and a test. Because you should take a test, right?”

  “How am I going to read the directions?” she wailed. “They’ll be in French!” She’d come out of the bathroom and was crawling onto her bed. I handed her the soda after she collapsed in a dramatic heap.

  “We’ll figure it out. We can look it up online, find them in English. It’ll be fine.” I grabbed my room key and paused at the door. “I’ll be back soon. You okay?”

  She lifted her head and nodded, looked like she was fighting tears. I had to get out of there. Paige didn’t like to cry in front of people. Not even me most of the time, and I’m her best friend. I slipped out the door and hurried for the stairs.<
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  Our hotel was an old building and a little crumbly around the edges, but the price was right when you were hoping to live on fifty dollars a day. We hadn’t planned to stay in Paris right away, so we didn’t have reservations at any of the hostels. The ones we’d called had been booked up tight so this little hotel was our Plan B.

  My entire summer was turning into one giant Plan B.

  It’s funny how sometimes when you have things all worked out a certain way, you decide it’s not actually what you want anymore. That you’ve been planning your life around someone else’s dreams and you realize (just in time) that you REALLY don’t want that to be your life. I was so relieved to get on that plane in New York, if only so I could think. I couldn’t do that with Blaine calling me every day and my mother going on and on about how many times she’d puked.

  And, as horrible as this sounds, it was a relief to have something else to worry about. I didn’t want Paige going through this, that’s not what I mean, but I was grateful for the distraction all the same.

  The little old man at the front desk gave me directions to the nearest pharmacy after I asked, all red-faced, where I could buy a pregnancy test. An hour later I was back with a test, fresh baguette, and brie in hand.

  “Paige?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She was laying on her bed, eyes closed, her face looking not quite so pallid. Maybe the soda had helped.

  “Feeling better?”

  “A little. Did you get it?” She looked at me, worry plain on her face. I nodded and handed her the pharmacy bag. She stared at it a moment, then got up slowly and went into the bathroom.

  The first time I’d seen Paige she was waiting in line for coffee in front of me at the student union on campus. She was this wild redhead, so open and friendly, quick to laugh. A couple of girls ahead of us were gushing over the football team who’d just jogged past the window, and Paige had turned to me and rolled her eyes.

  “Freshmen,” she said, in the same way you’d say idiots.

  “Totally,” I said. “What year are you?”

  “Freshman,” she said, flashing a straight-toothed grin.

  I laughed. “Me, too.”

  We’d gotten our coffees, gone to sit outside by the fountain, and talked nonstop for two hours. Like we were long lost friends. As if we’d known each other before we’d ever met—insta-friends. I’d never had that kind of immediate connection with anyone before.

  I think she became the best friend I’d ever had on that very first day.

  Now here we were four years later, just graduated, and supposed to be figuring out what we were doing with our lives for real—well, as soon as we were done traveling. And her life was looking like maybe it had a plan of its own.

  The bathroom door opened, and Paige stood there aglow in the warmth of the early afternoon light streaming in through the window. She held the test in her hand, her eyes bright, her lower lip quivering. She looked down at it and then met my eyes.

  “Skye?” she said. “I need to go home.”

  two

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing, Paige. Please.”

  We climbed out of the taxi and shut the door. I looked up at Charles De Gaulle International Airport and had to hold back tears. I couldn’t believe we were already back here after only a few days. It wasn’t fair.

  Paige started walking toward the doors, but I didn’t move. I just stared at the Air France sign. She turned back to look at me when she noticed I wasn’t alongside her.

  “Skye? You coming?”

  I didn’t want to. I wanted to be there for Paige, but I was in Paris and was supposed to stay in Europe for at least three months, not just three days. If I left now, when would I be able to come back? It had taken me years to save up for this trip, and I wouldn’t be able to afford to return anytime soon. Plus I could feel my mother waiting on the other side of the ocean. And Blaine. If I went back now, they’d just start in on me again.

  I looked at Paige. I had to go. She was pregnant, for chrissakes, and she needed me now more than ever. This was bigger than anything we’d ever been through together—breakups, crappy boyfriends, mean girls, failing grades, difficult parents, broken engagements. Pregnant at twenty-two topped them all. And she was worried about how Danny was going to take it. She loved him, of course, but they hadn’t been together all that long—just a few months—and it’s not like either of them were thinking about getting married yet.

  No, that had only been Blaine. And there was nothing technically wrong with that, but not everyone wanted to get married right out of college, no matter what my mother said.

  “What are you going to do?” I’d asked her as we packed.

  “What do you mean? I’m going to have a baby.” She’d stopped and looked at me. “You’re not suggesting I—”

  “No! No. Of course you’re having a baby. I meant with Danny. What are you going to do about him?” I knew how Paige felt about abortions—the same way I did. It was a personal choice, but not something she’d ever do herself.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want him to feel trapped, you know? I want it to be his choice to be with me because of me, not because of the baby.” She sat down suddenly and I reached out to her. “Oh my god. I’m having a baby, Skye. This is so not how I thought it would happen. I mean, I’ve always known I wanted kids, but not this soon. My parents are going to freak.”

  “Your parents are going to be fine.” I sat next to her, wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze as she raised an eyebrow at me. “Okay, YES. Your parents are going to freak…but THEN they’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

  She leaned her head against mine and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just…”

  “It’s life. One big surprise after another.”

  “That is life.”

  “I think the French have a phrase for that, too.”

  “Smart ass.” She nudged me with her shoulder, reached up for my arm with both hands and squeezed. “What would I do without you?”

  “Ditto.”

  But here I was staring at the airport doors, thinking that maybe she needed to do this without me—go home by herself—because I was a total chicken and couldn’t face it yet. And how could I do that to her?

  One foot in front of the other. That was all I had to do. I could get on the plane. I could support my best friend. I could go to Paige’s house rather than my own. Yes. I could do that. I walked slowly through the doors.

  The airport was cold after the heat of the Paris streets. Paige hurried over to the Air France desk. Her hands shook slightly as she handed over her passport and ticket. And all I wanted to do was put my arms around her again. She’d already called Danny to ask him to meet us at LaGuardia. She hadn’t told him anything else—just that we were fine but needed to come home. He’d been worried, I could tell from her side of the conversation, but she didn’t want to tell him over the phone. I totally understood that. Some things needed to be said in person.

  Paige turned and stepped out of the way. I pulled out my passport and ticket, and pressed them against my chest as I stepped up to the desk.

  And all I could think was that going back was making me feel trapped. I could see Blaine’s face—hurt, but hopeful that I’d changed my mind. I had no doubt that Danny would tell him I was coming back. And my mother—so disappointed and angry, sure that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. My heart started pounding at the thought of seeing them again. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t had time to sort things out for myself.

  “Mademoiselle?” the ticket agent said, a hand held out. “You need a flight today?”

  I turned to Paige, almost unable to breathe. “I can’t go home.” The words came out of me before I could stop them. “I’m sorry, Paige,” I whispered. “I’m so, so sorry but I can’t go back there. I can’t. I just need to be anywhere…but there.” She reached out for my hand and squeezed it. “Oh my go
d, how can I do this to you? How can I make you go home alone? Am I the worst friend ever or what?” I shook my head. “Wait. Don’t answer that unless it’s no.”

  “You’re the best friend ever, and I’ll be fine.” Paige laughed and it was such a relief. I couldn’t stand it if she was mad at me. “I’m just getting on a plane and Danny’s picking me up. I just texted him. And maybe it’ll be better for us to be alone anyway, so we can really talk.” We scooted out of line and she studied my face. “But what are you going to do? Are you really going to travel around by yourself?” She looked around the airport as if trying to figure out which one of the other travelers might try to take advantage of me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Was I?

  I had no idea.

  I mean, yeah, I was capable and intelligent, but a woman traveling around Europe on her own? I would have been lying if I’d said it didn’t scare me a little. Or maybe more than just a little. But at the same time it sounded like just the thing I needed to do. To prove myself. Maybe to find myself, as stupid as that sounded. Definitely to figure out how to make my life my own.

  I needed this. I was going to be more than okay.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be fine. You?”

  She nodded even as her eyes filled up with tears.

  “Oh, Paige.” I pulled her into a tight hug and she wrapped her arms around me. We stood there as people passed by on either side, in streaks of colors and melodies of many languages. Light filled the immense space, giving everything an ethereal glow.

  Paige squeezed me one last time. “I should go if I’m going to make my flight.” She pulled away and turned toward the long hallways leading to the gates.

  “Paige?”

  She turned to look at me again, this time dry-eyed. “I’m okay, Skye. Go explore. Send me pictures. And if you don’t text me every single day I’m calling every US embassy in Europe until they find you.”

  I smiled and nodded. She was going to be fine.

  She walked away, and I watched as she melted into the crowd. I pulled out my phone as I turned toward the doors and headed outside.