I Will Wait

The sky was dark, heavy grey clouds settling in. The air smelled like rain and something electric. I smiled from my window seat on the ferry, looking back down at the book in my lap.

Swans' Island never changed. I shoved my book back in my bag, glancing out of the dirty, fingerprinted window. It felt like I was finally home and I could breathe again, so I did. I took a nice deep breath and sighed. I picked my bag up and started to make my way towards the exit. We were only a minute or so away from the island. I rolled down the sleeves of my sweater—there were things I still did that no one needed to know about and it was honestly kind of cold anyway—and made my way onto the main deck. I pulled my hat on as I felt the first droplets of rain on my legs.

I hoped I had enough sweaters to last me through my stay. I was going to visit my grandmother, Zoe, my favorite person in the whole wide world. She had lived on the island for as long as I could remember. I tried to visit her as much as I could, but due to recent events, I couldn't. I hadn't seen her in almost four months, and I couldn't wait to see her. I missed the island.

It wasn't long before I saw her standing underneath a bright red umbrella, short salt-and-pepper hair curling wildy around her face as she waved me down cheerfully.

“Hi, baby!” she gushed, holding me tightly. I smiled and hugged her back just as tightly. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too,” I said softly, pulling away.

“Let's get you out of the rain, okay?” I smiled and let her lead me to her car in the gravel parking lot. She shivered as she turned it on, quickly turning the dials on the heater. “Oh, I missed you so much,” she cooed, pinching my cheeks. “Have you been losing weight?" She frowned a little, biting her lip. "Don't worry. I made your favorite for dinner.” She grinned at me, wriggling her eyebrows. I played with my sweater sleeves and tucked my hair behind my ears.

The ride to my grandmother's house was pretty quiet. I didn't have anything to say and I think she could tell I was pretty tired, so she didn't say anything either.

Zoe's house was pretty, even though it was a little small—but most houses on the island weren’t exactly mansions. I liked it that way. It was white with pink shutters that had little vines growing up all over the sides, with daffodils and tulips growing in the front yard. We parked in the driveway and ran inside. Iggy, my grandmother's cute little Maltese, was waiting for us on the stairs, jumping on me playfully as Zoe dried off and put her coat in the closet. I rubbed her behind her ears, laughing.

“I missed you too,” I laughed as my grandmother walked to the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home!” she called out. “Dinner'll be ready soon.”

I went upstairs and walked into my old room with a smile. It looked the same, with the same quilted bedspread and cluttered desk and record player. My bookshelf was a little dusty, but relatively untouched. I glanced at the empty boxes in the corner, then at the closet. She even put my clothes away for me. I smiled and scratched the back of my head, looking around. I made my way to the window seat and curled up, looking at the stormy sea.

I went to Swans Island because I wanted a chance to get away from my crazy life back in Seattle. I wanted to get away from him and his friends and everyone I knew. I wanted to start fresh. I wanted to try to get my life back together, maybe. I just needed a chance to see if I even could.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I frowned—I changed my number after it happened and only a couple of people had it. I glanced at the screen.

So you're back on the island, huh? - Unknown

I scowled, making a face.

Who is this?

Isa. Did you think I wouldn't find out? - Unknown

I sat up against the frame of the seat, wide-eyed. Isadora—Isa—was my best friend before I met him. He made me give up all my friends and basically shelter myself so that he'd be my everything, and for a really long time, he was. Isa and I had gotten into a huge fight a month or so before it happened and hadn't spoken since. I didn't think she'd ever want to talk to me again or that she would care about what happened to me afterwards, but there she was, texting me to see if I was back after all.

I stared at my phone for a few minutes before answering.

Yeah. I'm back. How'd you get my number?

I have my ways. Can I come over later? I'd like to see you. - Unknown

I bit my lip. Did I really want to see her again? She was my best friend, and I did miss her. She said what she said because she cared about me. I was just too in love with him to see that.

How do you know where I'm staying?

If you're not here, you're at Zoe's. Am I wrong? - Unknown

If you want to come, I'll be here. And hey, could you not tell anyone I'm back? I'd like to keep it quiet if I can help it.

No problem. - Unknown

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and sighed heavily. Word travelled fast on the island, and if people knew I was back, I was pretty sure it wouldn't be long until they found out why I had come back, and that was the last thing I needed. Zoe called me down for dinner, and I went, even if I wasn't all too hungry anymore. I picked at my chicken pot pie listlessly, looking down at my plate.

“Are you okay?” Zoe asked, glancing at me worriedly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. There's nothing to talk about, really. Um, by the way, I think Isadora's coming over later, if that's okay?” I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth, chewing slowly.

“Okay. That's fine. Are you sure you don't want to talk, though?” Zoe asked, setting her fork down timidly. “You can talk to me about it. When you're ready, I'll be here.”

The problem was that I didn't think I'd ever be ready.



"So, you're back."

Her hair was different, pink and blue and blonde. I liked it. The last time I had seen her, she had bright plum highlights and pink low lights and looked kind of crazy. At least this was something different. She had her hair piled on her head in a bun. She was eating a honey bun, like she always did when she was upset, and Joy Division was playing quietly on the radio.

She knew me too well.

We sat in her boyfriend's old truck on one of the many cliffs on the island, sipping blue raspberry and cherry slushies from the QuikMart in town. The windows were starting to fog up. I tugged on the sleeves of my cardigan, pushing some of my hair behind my ears. The white bandages around my wrists were like the big pink elephant in the truck, and I really didn't want to talk about them, but I knew she would.

“I'm back,” I echoed.

“I heard about what happened,” she said softly. She glanced at my wrists and I shot her a look. “And if we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.” I glanced out the window, looking away. “You put me down as your emergency contact at the hospital, remember? They kind of had to tell me what happened to you, sort of.” I wiped at the window on my side, biting my lip. “I didn't tell anyone. Not even Parker. Everyone thinks you're with your parents in Bolivia.” Isadora sighed, glancing at me.

“Thanks,” I said stiffly. “What exactly do you want?” I raised an eyebrow, biting at my thumbnail. “I'm just confused.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know how hard it is and—”

“You don't know how hard it is, actually. Don't say you do.” I hadn't meant to snap on her, really—but I was sick and tired of people saying they knew about something they didn't know about. I had a feeling I was going to regret coming back to Swans Island, but what could I do? I was already there, so I might as well have stayed for a few days.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized, shaking her head. "Look, I'm just trying to be there for you. If you need to talk, I'm here. If you need to vent, I'm here. If you just wanna hang out, we can do that too. I just think you need a good friend."

"Whatever, Izzie." She shot me a look, sipping her drink. "Thanks, for what it's worth. I'm sorry for snapping. It's just hard. I'm still so angry and sad and confused and I'm just—I'm trying really hard to figure everything out right now, but I'm not sure what to do. It's just—I don't know, okay? I don't know."

"It's okay not to know." She smiled a little. "I don't know what to do either." We shared a mirthless laugh. "Let's get you home before your grandmother gets worried."