“Okay,” I answered, still not sure how this was all supposed to go, really. But it felt good to be up and out in the mountain-fresh air, seeing the sunrise for the second day in a row.
I gave Bru a nod, then set off up the rocky trail, wondering for the hundredth time in the last few days what in the world I was doing. While the rest of the freshmen at ATU were touring campus and bonding with their roommates, I was walking up a mountain, holding out a tiny hope for some answers.
In the weak light it was pretty easy to make my way up the trail and over the base of the red rock that jutted up to the sky. When I got to a point where I had to climb, I wedged my boot in a wide crack and my fingers in another. I pulled myself up onto my knees, right beside a gnarled juniper tree that twisted its way out of the deep red of the rock. Then I breathed in deep and sat down right there, because I knew. If there was any place that felt like I was meant to be, it was this one.
I scanned the sky, hoping to catch another glimpse of a shooting star, but it was already too light. Immediately below me was the wide canyon we’d driven up, the road cutting a thin beige line through the thick blanket of green pines. But between the town and the canyon lay the most stunningly beautiful part of the whole scene. Towers and peaks and mountains of rock, all jagged and weather worn, rose out of the thin mist that covered the valley. They stood wise and silent, layer upon layer of color and time, stacked tall enough to kiss the stars. I’d never seen time stretch back so far like that, and all at once I felt smaller than I ever had. Like a pinprick of light in an infinite purple sky.
Finn would’ve said that was exactly right. That’s what we are. His particular brand of spirituality was always wrapped up in that sky. When our parents died, he didn’t go to church for comfort or answers. He went to the roof instead. And he took me with him. The first time I saw him climbing out his bedroom window I burst into panicked tears, thinking he was running away, leaving me all alone. Minutes later, when we lay there on the roof with a blanket of stars spread over us and our backs pressed into the still-warm shingles, he promised he would never leave me.
And yet here I was. Alone. I didn’t want to be angry with him for that, wanted more than anything to understand, so I closed my eyes against the sky to listen for some little bit of truth or peace. Anything the universe was willing to give. A breeze drifted soft and cool over my face. In the distance, I thought I heard the cry of a hawk. Then I heard something closer. A voice.
“Honor!” It whispered excitedly. “I hope you believe in fate. Because Kyra Kelley is my cousin.”
I whipped around to see Ashley behind me, trying desperately to hoist herself up to where I sat. “What? What are you talking about?” I hadn’t heard her coming at all.
She stuck her tiny hand out to me. “Pull me up! This is crazy!”
I leaned over and grabbed her hand with both of mine, then dug my heels in and pulled while she pushed, until she popped up onto the rock next to me. She didn’t waste a second. “Okay, I have to say this quick because we’re supposed to be meditating and all, but—Bru told me all about the letter and the tickets your brother sent you and your journey to go see Kyra’s last show and everything, and I just know this was meant to be. You have to make it there. It’s, like, a pilgrimage or something.”
She paused, the most excited smile on her face, waiting for me to answer, but I didn’t know where to even begin. Ashley took that as a cue to keep going.
“Okay, so here’s the plan—I’ll call her and tell her your whole story and let her know you’re coming to the show, and then I’ll give you her assistant’s number to call when you get there. She can meet you and take you backstage after, which will be amazing, since it’s her last show ever, and then—”
“Wait a sec.” I grabbed one of her hands, hoping it might help her stop talking for a minute. “Why did Bru tell you all that? It wasn’t any of his business—”
“I asked him,” Ashley said simply. “Because you seemed so sad. And so he told me. Which couldn’t be more perfect, and definitely isn’t coincidence.” She pointed up at the sky and brought her voice back down to a whisper. “It’s the universe. And it’s saying you’re on the right path.”
I stared at her in the faint morning light, smiling hope right at me as the sun rose golden warm behind the ridge, and I believed her. For some reason I didn’t yet know or understand, I was really supposed to make it to Kyra Kelley. And this random girl was holding the door wide open for me. “You think she’ll actually see me? In person?” I managed.
Ashley nodded emphatically. “Yes! I can’t wait to tell her about this. She’s totally into this kind of stuff right now.”
Despite what I’d said to Rusty about not being that excited to see Kyra Kelley anymore, the thought of actually meeting her brought back my little fangirl urge to jump up and down and squeal about it. Instead, I grabbed Ashley’s dainty, perfectly manicured hands and said, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. Really. It’s . . .”
“It’s what I do.” Ashley smiled. She gazed thoughtfully out over the valley. “I’m actually kind of good at it—helping people, I mean.”
I leaned my back against the tree and watched as a hot-air balloon rose in slow motion from the valley floor. “Maybe that’s the universe telling you something.”
“Maybe so.” She patted my knee. “I’m gonna go sit and see if it says anything else before Bru or my mom comes up here and tells me I need to be quiet.”