SMELLING ROSES

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Final Chapter

When you've spent your life coloring inside the lines, you'll remember the first time you met someone who didn't. It's not that they don't know how, they just choose not to. The way they defied rules made you envious. With their bodies full of scars and stories to tell, you wonder why you couldn't be that way too.

Whenever you see someone living differently than you, it's hard not to compare. Would I be happier? Sad? More adjusted?

We're always learning, even when no one's teaching us. Even when you've learned the lesson, recite the rules by heart, and do everything the correct way, it only protects your mind. They're wired to predict what comes next. It's comfortable to be right and know what to expect.

But that's no way to live life. I always thought if I lived the correct way, I'd be happy. If I didn't expect too much, I wouldn't be let down. Once I graduated high school, I'd feel more like myself. Once the restaurant became successful, I'd figure out what I wanted. Once my mother woke up, I would too. But I don't want to wait and predict anymore. I don't just want to color outside the lines; I want to color on the fucking walls. I want to begin to be.

And in order to do that, I had to leave.

I had the suite to myself. Wren was off to the airport, picking up Da-Bin and the band. It was about to get crowded. Good thing they left for Malibu in the morning.

My bags were all packed. Well, I never unpacked them. The airport finally found my luggage, now that I was leaving. I checked in online and my flight was one time. Everything was set. All I needed to do now was tell Wren.

I didn't want a repeat of last time. It felt like I was running away again, but I wasn't. We both needed this, and he was the one who needed to stay.

I threw myself onto the sofa. I just needed to find the right words, but I knew what this meant for us. And just when I was moments away from talking myself out of it, the suite door opened.

One by one, the boys barged in. The first, with long brown hair and brown eyes, he flung inside. He hopped onto the breakfast bar and rattled his drumsticks against the marble. The next two, the bassist and guitarist, rushed in. The bassist was the shortest. Shaved head, caramel skin, and snakebites. He tumbled on the floor with a full belly laugh. The guitarist, the tallest and a head full of dreadlocks, cracked a joke I missed right before they came in.

I realized I never met his band. They were a ball of energy but straightened up when they saw me.

I waved. "Hi."

"Hi, Songbird!" They sang, jabbing toes into the ground and swinging back and forth.

I giggled as Wren and Da-Bin strolled in. Arms over each other's shoulders, Da-Bin parted from his embrace and hopped into my arms. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw the plane ticket in my hand, he let out a sigh. "Shit."

He found his way back to Wren, pulling him into a tight hug. Wren paid him no mind, weaving through the boys to get to me. "Hey, I want you guys to meet Nora."

I panicked, hiding the ticket behind my back. I only brought attention to it and Wren pulled for my hands. "Wait. Are those plane tickets? You're leaving?"

"Uh." The bassist gathered the rowdy three and walked to the door. "Let's go see the pool."

The lanky guitarist tugged on Da-Bin's sleeve. "Come on, Daddy Da-Bin. Let the kids talk."

They funneled out, and their voices carried down the hall. When they got to the elevator, the suite was quiet again.

I looked at him, and I wanted to take it all back. "It's time for me to go, Wren."