We Promised to Wait for Everyone—But No One Waited for Me Chapter 06

We Promised to Wait for Everyone—But No One Waited for Me Chapter 06

At ten that night, my plane landed in Halloran City.

I’d barely turned my phone back on, still catching my breath, when the messages started, one after another, like small tremors.

Wesley’s came first.

[@Delaney, are you off work? We’re waiting for you to eat.]

[Where did you go? Not even a word? We can’t reach you at all!]

Then Dawson.

[Where are you? Still mad? It’s not worth it. We made a huge dinner for you tonight.]

Then Josie.

[Delaney, I’m so sorry. This was my fault, don’t blame the guys, please don’t be mad anymore.]

And last, Miles.

[Delaney, where are you? Can you please text me back?]

I read them all, closed the chat, and set the phone face down on my knee.

I didn’t answer a single one.

The taxi crossed Halloran City at night, neon lights falling away behind us, one after another.

I leaned against the window, looking at this strange city, and felt something inside me, empty and light at once.

The next day, I checked in at the office.

I found my desk and was assigned housing: a company-provided studio, not large.

A bed, a desk, a closet, and a window facing south.

I began unpacking, putting my things away one by one.

While wiping down the desk, I wiped the windowsill, too.

Then I thought about it and set the mint plant on the sill.

I’d brought it from the house, and it had been jostled the whole flight.

The leaves had gone limp.

I watered it.

Then I crouched by the window and watched it.

This was a gift from Wesley and the others at graduation.

But what they’d given Josie was a Polaroid camera.

It came in a box lined with string lights, with two packs of film beside it.

They’d said they’d pooled money to buy it, and had started planning three months earlier.

And me? I’d stood at the edge of the crowd, waiting.

I waited until most of the graduates had drifted away, and only then did Wesley suddenly seem to remember something.

He pulled a small paper bag out of a corner and pushed it into my hands.

Inside was this mint.

Tiny, green, really cute.

Wesley said: “Got it at the flower shop on the corner. It’s easy to keep alive, you barely have to do anything. Perfect for you.”

“You don’t care about gifts anyway.”

Perfect for me.

A Polaroid they’d planned for three months, and a mint plant picked up on impulse from a corner flower shop.

I’d kept this mint for a long time.

It really was easy. It barely needed any care.

Just as they’d said: perfect for me.

Because I never needed looking after, either.

That afternoon, I called a coworker from my old company.

“Lindsey, could you ship the rest of my things from the house to me?”

She paused. “Huh? You’re not coming back?”

“No. I asked this morning. If I do well on this project, I can stay in Halloran City.”

The line went quiet for a moment.

“Okay. Tomorrow’s Sunday, I’ll go pack it up for you.”

After I hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed.

My eyes fell again on the mint on the windowsill.

It seemed to have recovered. The leaves had stiffened and straightened.

I touched a leaf gently.

So a plant can survive being moved somewhere new.

People can, too.