The Other Side of Tomorrow

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t have like a bucket list or anything like that, and I don’t have a desire to do anything crazy, I just want to remember what it’s like to feel normal.”

“What is normal?” he muses with a shake of his head. “I thought I knew what that was, but then T.J. died and I just … I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.”

“I feel that way, every day of my life,” I admit with a small laugh.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he says, “I believe normal is overrated anyway.” Changing the subject, he asks, “No dog today?”

I shake my head. “He wanted to come, but we left him home. He’s still a puppy so he’s a handful.”

“He’s a big puppy.”

“He is a Golden Retriever.”

“True,” he agrees, wadding up his trash.

I take another bite of the wrap, surprised to find that it’s almost gone.

“What were you studying at college?” I ask.

He crossed his arms on the table. “I was studying to be a personal trainer and nutritionist. I still want to do that, but I need a break.”

“Believe me, I understand that.”

He stares at me quietly for a moment. It’s like those sea-green eyes are seeing past my flesh and into the inner workings of my mind. I’ve never felt like someone’s my kindred spirit before, but it’s like my body recognizes that this guy is made up of the same things I am.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he confesses.

“Now?” I question.

“No, tomorrow morning if you’re free.”

“What time?” I ask.

He makes a face like he’s unsure of how I’m going to like this—which never bodes well.

“I’d have to pick you up at five.”

“In the morning? Not night?” I blurt, appalled.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Just trust me, it’s worth it.”

I think for a moment, remembering how it felt watching him walk away from me, and my ultimate decision to be brave.

Be brave.

“Yeah, okay. I’m in.”

Selfishly, I just want to spend more time with him. Being around him makes me feel comfortable. I’m also insanely curious about what he’d want to show me that I have to get up at five in the morning for.

We exchange phone numbers before he heads to his car, and I leave to rejoin Meredith and Harlow.

My butt barely plops on the towel when Meredith grabs my arm, lowering her sunglasses to peer at me. “Spill, girl.”

I fill them in on Jasper, how we met that day months ago when Perry got loose, and I gloss over my next encounter with him, not wanting to tell them he’s T.J.’s brother. I know Harlow will give me a lecture on that fiasco, and I don’t want to hear it. I know it was a bad idea. I know it’s a bad idea to see Jasper again too, now that I know he’s T.J.’s brother, but I can’t help it. I want to get to know him. I like the way I feel around him. I feel more like my old self, but also like I’m around someone who gets it. Losing a loved one is totally different than having a disease, but it’s still a life experience we’re both too young to have to go through. That experience binds us together.

I guess you could argue the same is true for Spencer and me then, but I only feel friendship with him, and I think that’s all he feels for me and has felt. Before T.J. died I was beginning to think he had a crush on Harlow. She might be younger than him, but not by much.

“You like him,” Meredith declares, excitement in her voice.