Tread

June 18

"Is that seriously all you have?" Kate asks through bloodshot eyes, looking at the backpack. Last day in Dublin and baby girl went hard.

"It wouldn't be backpacking if I had more, would it?"

The morning is cold, and unsurprisingly wet, the sun barely breaking through the dense clouds. Half our group is already downstairs checking out, talking about how it all passed too soon. I'm the only one continuing the adventure, traveling alone through Europe.

I go through two polar states: heart pounding excitement and crippling fear. Currently the former is winning out, but I have no doubt the latter will return.

It does as I check my watch and see that I officially have less than four hours until my flight. Will the bus be on time? How long will it take the bus to get from the airport? Will the flight be delayed because of the crappy weather?

I stride outside, needing fresh air. It's only sprinkling, the drops tickling my nose. Descending the steps, I lean on the wrought iron gate and sigh.

"Morning, Rai."

Startled, I jump, placing a hand to my breast. Leo stands on the sidewalk in faded jeans and a grey pullover, massive safety orange backpack resting on his shoulders. Dude looks hungover as fuck. "Late night partying?"

He shakes his head. "Bought some spirits, but as I understand, you can't put those in your carry on."

"So finish them off?"

"Or let them go to waste?" He laughs and rubs his eyes.

"Leo, what are you doing here?"

"Traveling to Belgium on the . . ." he whips out his phone and scrolls for the information. "11:15AM flight to Brussels. I assume that's the one you're on."

"And how'd you figure that out?"

"I texted Em and asked. She said it was either that one or the 7:20AM flight, but I couldn't see you on that."

"Em?" That heifer.

"I'm coming with you, Rai."

"Oh no, you're not."

My eyes stray to the door. If someone comes out and sees him what will I say? Leo is just passing by with a backpack at nine in the morning for no reason. And we just happen to be on the same flight. No big.

"Stalk much?"

"Pysyvät kaukainen, much?"

I wait for him to translate or say something else. Finally, he sighs and scratches his head. "If you really don't want me to go, I won't."

I was—am—so ready to say goodbye. Because this moment won't last. It's not in the nature of our relationship. Different nationalities, different ethnicities, different ages, different lives. I already time stamped our Best Used By date. Yet here he is, making promises both of us know he couldn't keep.

But I'm 22, watch way too many rom-coms and still have Dirty Dancing on VHS. Launching myself at Leo, I let pragmatism and common sense pool at my feet. These are my mistake years, my risk taking years. "Don't go. Don't leave if you don't have to. Come with me."

***

The bus ride is less than fun, filled with worrisome stares from my teachers, some posturing from the guys in the group, and wonder and excitement from the ladies. Questions hit Leo and me at a mile per second as we sit, side by side, his arm tossed casually around my shoulder and my hand on his thigh.

"Is he going on the whole trip with you?" Kate asks from across us. She's looking at me like I've grown another head and started speaking Dutch.

"That's the plan," Leo replies smoothly, before turning back to his conversation with Ivan and James. They're discussing James Joyce, interjecting tidbits about the writing program we're all apart of back in the states. He already knows about it since I told him, but he listens politely anyway.