saturday mornings are for pancakes // a dream x reader fanfiction

CHAPTER 57: NEW YORK

hey guys! i recommend listening to these while reading:

'AN EGO THING' BY LIZZY MCALPINE

'STAY' BY GRACIE ABRAMS

Between arguing with Clay and being nervous about missing my flight, I barely slept last night. I tossed one way and turned the other until I was left just staring at the ceiling. I replayed my conversation with Clay over and over again.

Why am I even worrying about this? I ask myself, Isn't it time to let go?

I zip my suitcase up with the last of myself. I triple-check my ID and boarding passes. I catch a glance of myself in a mirror. It's taped with bubble wrap in order for it to not break, but I can see myself in a sliver.

I smile at the person in the mirror, and remind them that they can do this. I'm doing this, and that's so much more than I could say a couple months ago.

I walk out of my room and glance to the left, towards Clay's door. It's shut and the lights are off, but I walk up to anyways. I don't knock or dare to make a noise.

He wanted to space to think, and now he's upset that I gave him that. The truth is, I want space now too. I need to be somebody without him.

I won't be the one who apologizes first, that's for sure, and I doubt that he will too.

"He's not here." Nick's voice causes me to jump. He's standing at the end of the hallway, glancing back at me. "He went to sleep at his parent's last night after everything that happened."

I sigh; Nick confirming one of my biggest worries. "You heard it all?" I ask.

Pity lines his eyes as his head bobs up then down once. "We don't have to talk about it."

"Nick, I-"

"It's okay, y/n," he interrupts me, "we know."

I nod, grateful that he doesn't want an explanation. What would I even say? Clay and I weren't even enough to have to explain. Maybe that's the saddest part of it all.

I glance at Clay's door one more time. I put my hand up to the door. Maybe this fight means that Clay and I don't talk for a while, and I've decided that's a good thing.

I tap the door once, and I say my goodbye to him.

Nick hands me two travel mugs. "Hold this coffee for a minute." I take the coffee, watching him pull a sweatshirt over his head. I realize this is one of the last mornings things will be like this. I could go to New York, and everything could be different. I could be different. Nick grabs the mugs from my hand. "Thank you."

George is standing with his own coffee at the foot of the stairs. He gives me a small smile. "Are you ready?"

I take a shaky breath; all of the sudden, I don't feel prepared for anything at all. I'm transported to being eight years old. Maggie's parents are giving me a peanut butter sandwich, and I depend on everyone else to figure all the world's problems out.

"Not really," I tell George.

He chuckles. "I think I said that, too."

I had almost forgotten George has done this, too; he's done this but across an entire ocean, to a new country. I take a second to admire his bravery and courage. I had never seen it before.

"George, aren't you going to be cold?" Nick asks.

While Nick and I are wearing long sleeves and shorts, George is wearing a tshirt and shorts. He scoffs before opening the front door. "You guys wouldn't survive London."