Nothing Less

Chapter Thirty-One

Songs for this chapter are:

Ocean in the Sky- Angus Dawson

When We Were Young- Adele

Without- Years and Years

Control- Kevin Garrett

(i have an exciting author's note at the end of the chapter) 

Landon's POV.

The flight feels so much longer than three hours. We were lucky I could even get a flight on such short notice this morning. The sun wasn't up when I woke up with a text from Dakota and an empty bed. Nora left in the middle of the night, sending me reeling again.

I feel so much older than twenty and Dakota seems so much darker than the dancing ballerina I once loved. Her eyes are heavy when we land, still swollen from last night's tears. I don't look at her long enough to feel guilty. Those tears weren't for me. They were for her.

While Nora was in my bed, Dakota was sobbing in hers.

"I'll get the bags. You sit down," I tell her at the airport. Her eyes stare past me to the circling luggage belt and she nods. I point to the empty row of chairs next to her and she sits down.

A woman holds her baby and I think of Nora, holding her sister's baby. When I see another woman with long, dark hair, I think of Nora. When a promotion for Game of Thrones came on before the movie on my flight, I thought of Nora. Everything reminds me of her and I hope she can't look at anything around her without thinking of me.

The luggage comes quickly and I gather it and walk to Dakota. She looks as if she's going to fall asleep any moment. "You okay?" I ask her. She looks up at me, hollow brown eyes and nods.

"I'll be fine."

I work toward breaking the habit of pushing for more. I nod instead of telling her that I don't think she's okay after all.

The Kia I rented is nice, but smells like cigarette smoke despite the "no smoking" warning plastered on the windows and the dashboard. Dakota remains silent most of the drive from the airport. It takes about thirty minutes for me to start recognizing what's on the other side of my windshield. I drive in silence, my hands clutching the steering wheel, as we pass the old building that used to house the Blockbuster my mom used to take me to on Friday nights. Every single Friday we would order Pizza hut and rent a movie.

Now, it looks as abandoned as the old dusty VCR on my mom's mantle in Washington. I glance over at Dakota, wondering if she remembered the time she stole a Baby Bottle Pop from in front of the counter. We ran with wild abandon down the street while Carl, the short man with blond hair chased us. There were rumors around the town that Carl had just gotten out of prison, and maybe he had, but he never caught us. From then on, I told my mom I was more into watching t.v opposed to movies and she bought it.

The further I drive into Saginaw the more the roots of the town take hold of me. I feel like a stranger here, an intruder. At twenty, I've seen more of the country than most of the people in this town. When we stop at a red light at the intersection between Woodman and Airway, I look at Dakota again.

"They tore down the McDonalds," I tell her. We used to have one of those classic McDonalds right there on the corner, but now there's nothing but a plot of concrete.

Dakota doesn't look at me, but she glances out the window. "There's a new one," she points to a box shaped McDonalds and drops her hand back down to her lap.

"What happened to Dizzys?" I nod toward another patch of concrete where a locally famous bar used to be. Memories of dragging Dakota's dad from through the doors flood me but I stay passive, not a smile or a frown on my face.