The Other Side of Tomorrow

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “Do you …” I start and clear my throat, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Do you think there are people in this world you’re already connected to before you even know them?”

  He stares at me significantly. “I do now.”

  I stir my bowl of yogurt and granola, staring into its depths like it holds the answer to every question in the world.

  Unfortunately, it doesn’t.

  It’s just a plain ole boring bowl of yogurt and granola no matter how hard I stare at it.

  I don’t know why I’m scared to tell them. It’s mid-July, so they have to know I’m not starting college. But no matter how much I comfort myself with this information I can’t help feeling like a disappointment and a complete and utter failure.

  I set my spoon down. “Mom? Dad?”

  Dad looks up from his newspaper and my mom stops eating her cereal.

  “Yes?” my dad prompts, raising a brow inquiringly over the top of his reading glasses.

  Beside me, Harlow stops eating to listen to the conversation.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve decided not to go to college this year. I want to focus on recovery and get through this year of many doctor’s appointments, and hopefully figure out what I want to do, before I start next year.”

  They stare at me and my mom finally picks up her coffee cup, cradling it in her hands. “I think that’s an excellent decision. We didn’t want to pressure you into going this year, either, and if you said you wanted to go, we were going to let you know how we felt but we would’ve still helped with late enrollment if it’s truly what you wanted.”

  I breathe a very audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, guys.”

  Their support means a lot to me, more than I think I even realized.

  Beside me, Harlow shakes her head stifling a laugh. “You look like you just dodged a bullet.”

  “I feel like I did,” I admit, and laugh too.

  My dad lays down his newspaper. “You’ve been through more in the last three years than most people go through in a lifetime. I think it’s only right to want a break. You deserve it.”

  My lip quivers. “Thanks, Dad.”

  I can’t help it. The tears begin to fall. Having my parents behind me means more than they can possibly know.

  “We’re proud of the woman you’ve become,” he continues, which only makes me cry harder. “Your mother and I have watched you handle everything with such grace. You’re incredibly strong, Willa, and we know we’ve raised a brilliant young lady. We couldn’t be more proud.”

  I get up from the table and go to hug him. He hugs me back, his grip bear tight.

  “I love you,” I whisper into the scruff of his neck.

  “I love you too, Willa.”

  He lets me go and I hug my mom. She too squeezes me like she never wants to let go.

  I know when this happened they wished they could wrap me in bubble wrap and make it all go away, but they couldn’t, and while they didn’t go through what I did, they had to experience their own unique pain over the situation.

  My mom releases me but holds onto my elbows, forcing me to look at her.

  “Remember, always, that you’re a vibrant ray of light. No demon is too big or tough for that light not to squash it.” She reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek. “You’re beautiful, smart, and kind. We’re always here for you. Always.”

  I hug her again, not wanting to let go.

  Eventually, I have to.

  I sit back down and finish my yogurt.

  My parents leave for work, each of them kissing me on the cheek and doing the same to Harlow who squeals like she’s grossed out by all the affection.

  The house grows quiet and Perry sits at my feet while I rest on the couch with a book.

  “How’d it go yesterday?” Harlow asks, hanging upside down in the chair. I don’t even bother asking her why exactly she’s upside down. Harlow does what she wants.

  “It was good. He took me to his grandparents’ place. They have a farm, and it’s gorgeous.”

  “A farm?” she muses. “That’s cool. Do you still like him?”

  I blush, thinking of the kiss last night. “Yes.”

  “Oh, my God,” she shrieks and suddenly flips upright. How she doesn’t get whiplash is beyond me. “You really like him.”

  “Maybe,” I squeak.

  She shakes her head. “I never thought I’d see the day. Did he kiss you?”

  “Harlow!” I cry, dropping my book. My cheeks burn even brighter.

  “You so kissed.” She claps her hands giddily.

  “I saw him again last night,” I admit.

  “What?” Her mouth pops open and she tucks her legs under her body, leaning over the arm of the chair. “Do tell.”

  I shrug like it’s no big deal. “He texted me and he was here. I couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t sleep, we ended up hanging outside and … talked.”

  “And kissed?” she prompts.

  I can’t hide my smile as I relive the kiss. The best, and only, kiss of my life. But I don’t need another to know it was special.

  “And yes, we kissed,” I admit.

  Harlow shrieks and whoops with joy. “This is the most exciting thing to ever happen around here, you little hussy. I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me.”

  “I still can’t believe it happened,” I admit.

  “This is better than the Korean dramas I watch,” she squeals, kicking her legs out.

  I stare at her incredulously. “You don’t speak Korean.”

  She waves a hand dismissively. “I know a little. Besides, there are subtitles.”

  “Wait, is that weird music I hear you play in your room Korean?”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s K-Pop,” she emphasizes the word like I’m an idiot. “And if you listened to it, you’d love it too. BTS gives me life, but don’t even think about coming after my bias. I will cut you.”

  “Your what-a-what?”

  “My bias—my favorite member. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all, I do, but Jungkook makes my legs quiver.”

  I shift my eyes around. “Junghook? Is that even a real name?”

  She rolls her eyes again and I’m surprised they don’t fall out of her head. “It’s Jungkook, and he’s my future husband. You better learn how to say his name right.”

  I snort.

  She glares.

  “Oh, you’re serious.”

  “I take my hot K-Pop husband very seriously.”

  “Boy, this escalated quickly.”

  “When you insult my spouse I become defensive,” she reasons, and I laugh.

  “Now I know why you’ve spent so much time in your room this summer.”

  “K-Pop all day every day, bro,” she quips and we both laugh.

  “Do you want to go to the pier today?” I ask her. I selfishly want to visit Julio.

  “Only if I can introduce you to the wonders of K-Pop on the way.”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  She squeals and runs up the stairs to get ready. “I low you!” she calls over her shoulder.

  I set my book down to do the same, Perry loping behind me like an ever-present shadow. He follows me into my room and plops on my bed as I close the door behind us. Opening my closet, I scan my clothes, looking for something to wear. I pull out a pair of shorts I forgot I owned. They’re high waisted and black with a yellow and peach floral print. I pair them with a cropped short sleeve white shirt and a hat. Forgoing my usual sneakers or flip-flops I put on a pair of strappy black sandals I’ve worn maybe once.

  I glance at my reflection in the mirror and smile. I’m not wearing any makeup, but I think I look cute. I don’t normally dress nice and it feels good.

  Grabbing my bag, I meet Harlow downstairs and we get in the car, taking Perry with us because he suckers me into feeling sorry for him.

  He sits in the back, wagging his tail. I swear he smiles.

  “If you do anything bad,” I warn hi
m, pointing a finger, “I’ll never speak to you again.”

  He just pants in response. Apparently, I’m not very threatening.

  Whatever.

  At least I tried.

  Harlow wastes no time hooking her phone up and blasting her K-Pop. It isn’t that bad, actually. In fact, it’s catchy, and soon I’m bobbing my head along as we drive to the pier.

  “Good, right?” she asks, while I maneuver the car into a parking spot.

  “I like it,” I admit.

  She claps her hands giddily. “I have converted you to the dark side.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “You just wait,” she warns. “You’ve been sucked into the K-Pop black hole and you’re not coming back.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her.

  Getting out, I grab Perry’s leash and ease open the back door, grabbing his collar before he can jump out. I wrestle with him to attach the leash and then I let him hop out.

  I lock up behind us as Perry drags me along. You can’t walk this dog. He walks you.

  Harlow bounces along beside me in a bright and cheery mood. But when is she not? If I could bottle her energy and attitude then shake it across the world like a pepper shaker, the world would be a much happier, brighter place.

  “I want cotton candy,” Harlow declares, walking backward to face me. “You want any?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “You go on. I’ll meet back up with you.”

  “Sure.” She turns and scurries off.

  I guide Perry, as best I can since he’s stubborn, into Julio’s shop.

  The bell dings above the door and Perry lifts his head sniffing the air.

  “I detect a shift in the air. Is that my Ms. Willa?” Juilo calls from the corner and I find him in his swinging chair smoking a blunt.

  I laugh. “It’s me, Julio.”

  “You said you wouldn’t wait long to come back,” he tsks.

  Perry sniffs Julio’s bare dangling feet.

  “I had a good reason.”

  “Mmm, is that so?” He lets out a cloud of smoke. “Did my prediction come true?”

  I smile, bending to pull Perry back. “It did.”

  “And who is this delightful creature with you?”

  “This is Perry, our dog.” I pet him on his head and he looks up at me.

  “He is very fond of you,” Julio comments, taking a drag of the blunt. “I sense a strong connection.”

  “And I think you’re baked out of your mind.” I laugh.

  He chuckles. “Nonsense. Tell me, how do you feel?”

  I shrug, even though he can’t see. “I feel like a person again. I don’t have to rely on a machine to live anymore. I feel amazing. Like, I literally didn’t know it was possible to feel this good.”

  “I am very happy for you,” he says in his raspy voice. “You deserve this.”

  “Not more than anyone else,” I whisper, still petting Perry. “There are many people on the transplant waiting list. They all deserve it.”

  “That is so,” he agrees. “But this was your turn. Don’t be sorry for it.”

  “So many people die waiting.” My voice cracks. “It’s not fair.”

  “Your concern for others is beautiful, m’dear Willa, but the tides of Earth ebb and flow. Death is a natural part of the cycle. When it’s your time, it’s your time, and nothing can stop that.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I might be a blind pothead, but I’m right.”

  I snort. “Julio, you are one of a kind.”

  “Everyone’s one of a kind, but most people try to become like someone else because being unique is looked down upon.”

  I shake my head.

  “Do you still have your bracelet?” he asks.

  “Of course.” I hold out my wrist with the bracelet and he grabs it, his fingers lightly touching the dangling sun charm. He releases it and my arm drops back to my side.

  “I think of you often, my flower. I say to the gods above, watch over this sweet girl, give her strength for she must battle things no one her age should ever have to contend with.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “You lost your eyesight.”

  “And I fought my own kind of battle. Just because you have to fight, doesn’t mean you should have to do it alone. The people around you are there to help, if you let them, and the spirits. The spirits will tell you things if you open yourself up to listen, but most people think that’s nonsense.”

  The bell on the door chimes and I jump, realizing I need to find Harlow.

  “I have to go, Julio.” I grab his hand and squeeze it. “I’ll see you next time.”

  I slip out of the store, Perry sniffing everything as he goes.

  I find Harlow sitting on the railing eating her cotton candy with Spencer leaning beside her. They laugh at something he said, and he reaches up, swiping some cotton candy from her lip.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey!” Harlow jumps down from the railing.

  Spencer jumps away like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t, and I suppress a smile.

  Meredith might’ve called dibs on Spencer, but I think Spencer already had his sights set on Harlow. She might be younger than us, but not by much, and while she’s always been upbeat and peppy there’s a part of her that’s like me and very much an old soul.

  “Hey,” Spencer echoes, his voice gruff. “I was just here to get out for a while and spotted Harlow.” He tosses his thumb in Harlow’s direction.

  “Cool,” I reply, for a lack of anything better to say.

  Harlow pinches off a piece of cotton candy and shoves it in her mouth.

  “What do you want to do?” she asks me.

  Perry watches her, waiting and hoping she’ll drop a bit of the sweet treat.

  “I want to get a smoothie. I haven’t had one in forever and I’m craving one.”

  “Ooh! A smoothie would be yummy,” she agrees.

  The three of us, Perry pulling me along, head down the boardwalk to the smoothie stand.

  Finally, I order a pineapple coconut smoothie and Harlow gets a strawberry one. We move to the side and let Spender place his order, then the three of us wait together.

  I can’t help but study Spencer as we wait, noting the fact that he looks like he’s lost weight. Despite everything I’ve been through I still don’t know how to comfort someone who’s hurting. It’s all too easy to say the wrong thing by mistake and then you can’t take it back.

  Once we have our smoothies, we continue to walk along the pier.

  “This is delicious,” Harlow gushes, slurping her smoothie. “Here, try mine.” She holds her drink out to Spencer.

  He takes a sip and makes a disgusted face. “Mine’s better.”

  “Not a chance.” He holds hers out to try.

  “Okay, that is good.”

  “What’d you get?” I ask.

  “Blueberry with kiwi.”

  “Interesting,” I comment. Thinking that combination sounds absolutely disgusting.

  He laughs, picking up on my tone. “Here, try it.” He holds it out to me and I take a sip.

  “Okay, okay,” I relinquish. “You were right, it’s good.”

  He grins, a little bit of light flashing in his eyes. “See.”

  Eventually, the three of us find a spot and sit down on the wood-planked pier, letting our legs dangle over the edge and using the fence to drape our arms over.

  “This summer is nothing like what I thought it would be,” Spencer admits. “I thought it’d be fun, a last hoorah before college, and now it’s just … T.J.’s gone.” He looks at Harlow and then me. “We should cherish every day, because you never know when it’ll be your last.”

  “True dat.” Harlow lifts her smoothie cup in salute.

  Perry’s head perks up, thinking he’s about to get some.

  Spencer’s words hit home with me. It’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to, my own mortality. There’s an endl
ess list of things I want to do before I die, most fairly mundane, but it scares me to think I might not get the chance do them.

  But I did cross off one very important thing.

  My first kiss.

  Jasper texts me again that night, unable to sleep just like me, and I meet him outside. Once again, I lead him to the back on to the beach where we sit side by side.

  Tonight, we sit close enough that our legs touch.

  My skin prickles with his nearness.

  “I haven’t felt … right since T.J. died. Like I’m lost. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore and then …” He looks at me and I look back. “And then I’m with you and I feel like me again, and I know that’s crazy, we don’t know each other yet but I can’t help it.”

  “I feel it too,” I whisper.

  I knew from the first time I saw him many months ago that he was different. I honestly never believed I’d see him again, and yet here we are. That has to mean something.

  “Yeah?” he murmurs, almost surprised.

  “Yeah,” I echo.

  “The night is the hardest,” he admits. “I don’t know if it’s because he died at night or because when I lay down to sleep all I can think about is his body in that mangled car. Then my chest gets tight and it’s like I can’t—”

  “Breathe,” I finish for him.

  He snaps his fingers. “Exactly.”

  I know what he’s talking about. I feel it too, but for an entirely different reason.

  The emotions of receiving a transplant are off the charts, especially when you’re convinced you’re falling for the guy whose brother died to give it to you.

  Life has a fucked-up way of mocking us.

  I’m, sadly, getting used to it.

  Sometimes I think I’m not meant to be happy.

  But then I tell myself I’m being pathetic and to stop complaining.

  Things aren’t always happy. They aren’t always easy. They just are.

  You either roll with the punches or get run over.

  “I’m glad I stopped you the other day at the beach,” he admits, his green eyes flashing with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. “You’re the first person I’ve been able to talk to about it since it happened. My friends … they don’t get it. I mean, they feel sorry for me, but that’s pity not sympathy. And my parents are grieving too, I don’t want to add to their pain, same with my grandparents. But you? You get it. You let me talk. I’m afraid if I don’t I’m going to suffocate. I feel like before I met you I was a balloon floating away, and then you grabbed the string and you’re slowly pulling me back to Earth, reminding me that I’m not lost I’m just figuring out how to live after.”