Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  I grab a coffee before I take a seat.

  “Wow, I thought you were never going to show up.”

  My head shoots up and my eyes connect with Ansel’s light blue ones as he heads my way, wheeling a suitcase.

  “What are you doing?” I jump up, coffee sloshing out of the lid of my cup and burning my finger, but I pay it no mind.

  “Well, I knew you were leaving, and frankly I’m not ready for college either, and I thought to myself why would I let my best friend fly across the world without me. When I told Sage I wanted to go with you he was a little wary, but I think the fact he didn’t want you to go alone won out and he told me where he got your first ticket for.” He holds his own plane ticket up. “So, you’re stuck with me, Meadows. My parents are cool with it, so they’re funding my end. Wherever you go, I go.”

  “Sage knew about this?” I’m stunned, he seemed so upset that I was going to be by myself.

  “Yep.” Ansel plops in the empty seat beside the one I had been sitting in. He pats that seat. “Get comfy, Meadows.”

  “I…” I keep blinking at him, no words coming to mind.

  “You’re not mad are you? I mean, even if you are I’m still going.”

  “No, I’m glad you’re here.”

  And now that he is I can’t imagine doing this without him. I finally sit down in the chair beside him.

  “I’ve got your back, Meadows. An adventure is what we both need.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  He nods, picking at a hangnail. “You can’t grow without exploration. Seeing the world is what I need to become a better artist. Maybe … maybe I can make something of my art, of myself. I’m scared to dream big.”

  “If you dream small you’ll never even touch the ceiling.” I give him a soft smile. “But if you dream big you might be lucky enough to touch the sky.”

  He takes my hand, crossing our fingers together. “Let’s take over the world then.”

  “World domination isn’t really my thing.” I fight a growing smile.

  I still can’t believe he’s here. Going on this trip with Ansel will make it more fun. I’ll have someone to not only travel with, but that will make me smile and laugh, remind me that I’m not alone in this world. It might sound dramatic, but so often since the shooting I’ve felt invisible. Unseen, unheard, unimportant. Lachlan brightened my world, and with him I felt seen, heard, and like the most important person to him. But he left me, tossed me away like I was nothing.

  But I am something.

  I’m me and it’s time I saw myself, heard myself, and realized how important I am. My purpose matters.

  “So, Meadows, where are we going after London?”

  I grin at my best friend. “It doesn’t matter.”

  And it really doesn’t, because it’s the journey that matters, not the destination.

  We arrive at the flat dead ass tired. It’s ten in the morning London time, but I don’t even know what time that’d be back in Utah because my brain can’t function to calculate it.

  “This place is nice. There’s only one bed, though,” Ansel announces, coming out of the bedroom and putting his backpack on the floor.

  Stifling a yawn, I rub my eyes. “I’m too tired to care. Let’s get some sleep. I promise I won’t paw you.”

  “Thanks for being concerned for my welfare, Meadows,” he chuckles, opening the fridge to see if it’s stocked.

  I send Sage a text that we’ve arrived at the flat he booked and we’re going to bed. I don’t bother to see if he replies. I start rifling through my bag for clean pajamas only to realize I never packed any. I have underwear and regular clothes. That’s it.

  “Oh my God,” I groan in pure frustration. “I forgot pajamas.”

  “I’ve got you covered.” This time he’s the one trying not to yawn. He grabs his backpack and pulls out an oversized t-shirt, tossing it at me. I barely catch it. “That should cover all the important parts.”

  The shirt smells like him and whatever was once printed on it is faded. “Thanks.”

  “Go shower. I’ll make us a snack.”

  Grabbing clean underwear I don’t protest, shutting myself in the bathroom to shower. I feel cruddy after spending the last nearly twenty-four hours traveling. Our flight from New York to London ended up delayed, which was a real pain in the ass.

  The warm water cascades over my body, loosening my tired muscles. I didn’t tell Ansel, but I doubt I have the energy to eat a snack.

  Scrubbing my scalp with shampoo I watch the swirls disappear down the drain. I’m already starting to feel better even if I’m in desperate need of sleep.

  Conditioning my hair, I let it sit on the strands to detangle the mess it knotted itself into when I napped on the flight.

  Once I’m squeaky clean I get out and dry off, changing into clean underwear and the shirt Ansel gave me. It comes down over my ass, but barely. It’ll do though.

  Exiting the bathroom, steam billows out with my departure. Ansel looks over from the tiny kitchen, finishing a sandwich. “My turn.” He rubs his hands together. “Eat, Meadows. I know you have to be starving.” He points to the other half of a sandwich sitting on a glass plate with little blue flowers on the border.

  The bathroom door clicks shut behind him. I eye the sandwich, not hungry after all the travel but knowing I need to eat. Sitting on the little stool, I bite into the sandwich, expecting my stomach to protest at the introduction of food after hours of travel, but I end up devouring it until there are nothing but crumbs left.

  I rinse the plate and grab a drink from the fridge. Twisting the cap off a water bottle, the bathroom door opens and Ansel steps out. The scent of his soap fills the air, something woodsy the reminds me of the outdoors. It’s the complete opposite of Lachlan’s fresh scent.

  Ansel yawns, pointing to the couch. “I’ll sleep out here. You get the bed.”

  “I’m fine with the couch,” I protest. “I’m shorter than you.”

  He gives me a pointed look. “I’m being chivalrous here. Take the bed, Meadows.”

  I sigh, knowing I’m never going to get anywhere with him. “Fine, but only because I’m too tired to argue.”

  After we find him a pillow and blankets, he gets fixed on the small couch and I take the bedroom. There’s no air, and it’s stifling so I turn on the window unit to hopefully cool down the space, leaving the door open so Ansel might benefit as well.

  Climbing beneath the covers, they’re scratchy against my skin. I toss them off, since it’s hot anyway.

  Curling my hands beneath my head, I pray the jetlag will bring sleep quickly. Thankfully, it does, but it’s short-lived. It’s not long before I wake with cries, my limbs flailing from the dream.

  Ansel comes barreling into the room, his hair mussed from sleep, eyes tired. He runs to my side, grabbing onto my arms and then my chin, forcing me to look at him.

  “You’re okay. Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” My body stops twisting and turning and I focus on him, evening my breaths. “It was a dream.”

  I cling to him like a lifeline.

  The dream was worse than usual. Before Lachlan left it had gotten so days, even weeks, would pass without it, but it’s been happening more often, and this was the worst one yet. It was so real, the dream clinging to my mind, forcing me to relive those harrowing moments.

  “I want it to go away,” I whisper into the skin of his neck.

  “Is it about what happened to you?”

  I nod.

  He maneuvers his body, climbing into bed behind me. He holds me against his body.

  “I’m here, Meadows. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go. I won’t let the dream get you while I have you.”

  I open my mouth to argue that his presence won’t be enough to chase it away, but I opt against it, and then by some miracle when I do fall back asleep to him humming in my ear, the dream doesn’t return.

  I think Ansel Caron might be my knight in shining armor.


  I’m sorry, Lachlan.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  I wake up wrapped in Ansel’s arms, his breath blowing softly against the back of my neck. His arms are twined around my body, with his legs fully curled against the back of mine. My left arm rests on the top of his. There’s something acutely intimate about it, despite the fact nothing sexual happened.

  I start to wiggle out of his hold, needing to pee, but he tightens his grip.

  “Five more minutes. I’m not ready to get up.”

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  He pinches my stomach. “Five minutes.”

  “Ansel,” I laugh, “let me go.”

  He groans, releasing his octopus hold on me. “Fine, Meadows. Go to the bathroom. What time is it anyway?”

  I pick up my phone. “Four in the morning.”

  “Fuck, we slept a long time.”

  Considering we fell asleep after eleven in the morning the previous day, he’s not kidding. Seventeen hours is a hell of a lot of sleep, but we both needed it.

  Climbing out of bed, I head to the tiny bathroom in the room next door to relieve myself. Washing my hands, I glance at my reflection in the mirror. I look surprisingly well rested considering I woke up with that horrible reoccurring dream. I think I have Ansel’s presence to thank for that.

  After I’ve brushed my teeth, I climb back into bed beside my best friend. He reaches for me, pulling me against his solid chest. I wrap my arms around him and he tucks my head under his neck.

  “I’m really glad you’re here,” I whisper like a confession into the dark bedroom.

  He squeezes my arm. “Me too.”

  “I’m not sure I could have done this by myself like I thought I could.”

  He’s quiet for a few heartbeats. “You would’ve been fine.”

  “You think so?” I twist my head, resting my chin on his chest so I can look at him.

  He angles his head toward me. “I know so. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But,” a grin spreads slowly over his face like a rising sun, “you wouldn’t have nearly as much fun.”

  I laugh. “Now that’s definitely true.”

  “What do you want to see today?” he asks, rubbing his fingers lazily against my arm. It feels good and my eyes close, basking in the touch.

  “Everything.”

  “I don’t think we can see everything in one day, Meadows.”

  “I want to experience the city, the life, that’s what this whole trip is about for me. Living, not just visiting.”

  “Well, Meadows,” he presses his lips to the side of my head, “let’s get out there and live.”

  After several hours of walking the streets, stopping in shops and checking out the changing of the guard, I find myself drawn into a bookshop. Ansel follows, not saying a thing as I open the door and head inside.

  I pause inhaling the scent of the books stacking the shelves all the way to the ceiling. The scent makes me think of Lachlan and all his piles of books. It hurts thinking of him, like a painful stab wound that won’t stop throbbing.

  Looking up, the ceiling is covered in mirrors, giving it the trippy effect of stretching for miles.

  “Lachlan would love this,” I whisper to myself, but of course Ansel overhears me.

  He places his hand on my waist, giving me a sad look, but he doesn’t say anything, which I’m grateful for. I don’t know how I would reply if he did.

  I walk down the aisles of books, smiling when I find cozy nooks set up to curl up with a book of your choosing.

  Despite myself I take a picture and send it to him. I know he won’t really get it anyway, he still hasn’t read any of my messages. I suppose that’s a good thing considering some of them are not so nice. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it, though, for leaving without a word.

  Our last night together, he made love to me knowing he was going to abandon me. He kissed me, pleasured me, all while knowing I would never see him again.

  I still can’t believe I brought his letter. I should’ve left it at home. The last thing I need to do on this trip is travel with the baggage of what it might say. I’m terrified whatever is inside will only break my heart more. It’s already been battered enough.

  Behind the photo I send another text message.

  Me: I could get lost in here. Would you even bother to look for me?

  With a sigh, I put my phone away. I know I need to stop texting him, but I’m not ready. It’s therapeutic, a diary of sorts.

  “Are you okay?” Ansel steps around a shelf, finding me with my arms wrapped around myself.

  I nod, but the smile I give him is sad. “I’m fine.”

  He grips my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “You can talk to me.”

  “I know.”

  If I ever get to the point where I want to talk about Lachlan, get my thoughts and feelings off my chest, I know I can trust Ansel. Despite the rumors, and me confirming the truth, he stood by my side and hasn’t judged me for it. Sasha too, was understanding, and I know I need to keep in contact with her while we’re gone. I don’t want her to think she means nothing to me. If I’ve learned anything in the last year it’s how important relationships are whether they’re familial, friendships, or romantic.

  I explore the shelves a bit longer, buying two books before we leave. It’s nearing dinnertime so we stop in a pub near the flat to eat. With our bellies full we walk out. Ansel loops a few of his fingers around mine. I flash him a smile.

  We enter the flat, locking the door behind us. I send Sage a few texts, letting him know we’re going to be heading to bed soon.

  I take my shower first and while Ansel is getting his I turn the blankets back on the bed, fixing the pillows. It hasn’t been discussed but I want him to sleep in the bed again tonight. With him close I feel safer, and it should keep my nightmares at bay.

  The pipes squeal as the shower is turned off. I know it’ll be a little bit before he leaves the bathroom, but I still feel nervous. I know it’s silly, he’s my friend, but I don’t want him to think I’m broken, or needy, or maybe even leading him on.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I hold my breath when I hear the door open. His feet pad across the creaky hardwood floor and then he stands in the doorway, leaning his body against it.

  “You okay?” He picks up on my body language instantly.

  I nod, but don’t meet his eyes.

  “What is it, Meadows?”

  I stare down at my hands, spreading my fingers before curling them into my palms.

  “Can you sleep in here again tonight? With me?”

  “Sure—is that what you’re nervous about?”

  I stand up, brushing my hair off my face. “Yeah.” I let out a laugh. “It’s dumb, I know. But I felt better last night once you were here. When I fell apart, you held me together.”

  I close my eyes, thinking of how I was once so sure that Lachlan was the glue to all my broken pieces.

  I startle when I feel the gentle press of Ansel’s warm hand against my cheek. “You don’t need me to hold you together. You’re doing that all on your own. But I’ll keep you safe.”

  I open my eyes, staring into his light blue gaze. “I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.”

  “Trust me, Meadows, you’ve never given yourself enough credit.”

  Taking my hand, he urges me back to the bed, and lays down beside me. It’s not that late, but we’re both tired from the day’s adventures. As soon as his arms wrap around me I fall right into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter Seventy

  We spend two weeks exploring London and the surrounding cities before moving on.

  I send more texts to Lachlan. He never responds.

  From there we travel to Italy, visiting Venice, Rome, Florence—but spending most of our time on the Amalfi Coast. It’s eight weeks before we can bring ourselves to leave.

  Still, Lachlan doesn’t reply.

  Other cities we stop at are Prague in the Czech Repub
lic, Barcelona and Madrid in Spain.

  I should stop texting.

  Ansel wanted to go to Scotland when we first left London, but Scotland belongs to Lachlan.

  I don’t know why I can’t betray him.

  The plane circles over our next destination. Ansel looks out the window with awe and joy. “Look at it, Meadows.” He points like a small child for me to look too.

  “Wow.”

  We hover above Paris, exchanging smiles.

  The plane starts its descent, the pilot giving instructions over the speaker.

  Ansel grabs my hand, looping our fingers together. With a smile he says, “Paris isn’t ready for us.”

  I smile back. I’m not sure I’m ready for it either.

  Goodbye, Lachlan. I’m moving on with my life.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  The taxi screeches to a stop in front of the apartment.

  Ansel speaks to him in French, passing him some crumpled up euros.

  We grab our bags, heading inside to the manager’s office to get the keys for the apartment we pre-booked on a month-to-month basis. Both of us agreed we’d like to stay in Paris for a while. I’m not sure how long a while actually is, but we’ve already been gone from home six months. I know Sage hoped I’d be home for Christmas, but this year I’ll be celebrating in the city with Ansel.

  We take the antique elevator up to the top floor apartment. We’re splitting the costs, but the one-bedroom in the heart of Paris is still beyond pricey—especially with the view of the Eiffel Tower the online portfolio claimed. But you only live once, might as well enjoy it.

  Stepping off the elevator, we walk down the hall and Ansel unlocks the door to our apartment.

  He lets out a low whistle. “Wow, this is nice.”

  He’s not kidding, either. The interior is painted a creamy white color, with detailing of the walls harking back to a different era. The crown molding is exquisitely detailed and the furniture is all fairly new in a more contemporary style with bold colors. My eyes can’t seem to look away from the cobalt blue velvet couch.