She hasn't seen him in nearly two years when he calls her up out of the blue, asking to come visit.
There's a little part of her that's confused-two years is a long time-but most of her is just relieved. If she's being honest, she's been feeling a bit neglected.
She's heard from Jane and Batty that he'd visited Cameron for Thanksgiving, President's Day, and a handful of other minute holidays which she neglected to show up for during the last two years.
California is a long way from Massachusetts, and she'd be lying if she doesn't smile every time she thinks about him coming such a long way just to see her.
Of course, she tells him. Of course, I'd like you to come visit. But there are a million other things she wants to add to that simple sentence. I've always wanted you to come visit. I never wanted to end what we had. Why haven't you come before now? And, perhaps most imperative: Why now?
Why now, indeed. Why now, during finals week, when the last thing in the world she needs to be focusing on is reinforcing a dying friendship? Why now, when all she's been able to think about for the entire semester is how she wishes she hadn't been such an idiot in high school, turning you away without putting in place any precautionary measures to keep you in her life?
But she sticks to a simple, "Of course," and three days later she's sitting at the baggage claim at LAX, trying to convince herself that she isn't anxious.
All of her carefully constructed arguments fly out of her head, however, at sight of a brown-haired boy stepping off the escalator. It may have been two years since she's seen him last, but she would recognize him anywhere.
Resisting the inexplicable urge to run and tackle him to the ground, she begins to walk over to him, plastering what she hopes is a calm and happy smile on her face.
It seems to take him a second to recognize her, doing a double take as she walks up to him.
"Skye?" His voice is deeper than it was when she saw him last, and-good God-is he tall!
"No, sorry," she replies looking him right in the eye, and trying not to smile.
He looks at her for a second longer, before grabbing her and pulling her into a warm hug that makes her melt more than she would like to admit.
"I can't believe it's you!" He breathes in amazement, squeezing her tightly enough that she begins to think he'll break a few of her ribs before releasing her with a grin. "You look fantastic!"
"Thanks," she replies, ignoring the warmth that floods her under his gaze with a vicious determination. "You don't look so bad yourself. From the family's reports, I was expecting you to be a bit more malnourished and overworked."
"You're the one who everyone fears is going to be malnourished. Have you learned to boil water yet?"
She just smiles, ignoring the question, (to which the answer is an unfortunate "no") and grabs his duffle off of the carousel.
"We'd better get going if we're going to make it back to Pasadena before rush-hour."
Turns out they're already a little late for that, and what would normally be a 30 minute drive back to Cal Tech takes them two and a half hours of conversation.
She learns that his mother and the new Dexter replacement took off for Europe again last summer, and took him with them, much to his chagrin. But he liked Rome (fantastic architecture) and Paris (great food) and London (lots of smog and horrible food, but great accents). He says that they should go together one day, to which she just laughs. She can barely afford groceries at the moment; the European Grand Tour is going to have to wait.
And then they get to the topic of school, and she watches as he lights up, going on and on about Berklee College of Music, and Jazz, and some girl named Alissa who "makes the piano come alive," and her heart constrict just a tiny bit. She's taken back to that first summer at Aundrel by the glow in his eyes, the happiness radiating from him.
But then he asks about her, and she bores him with details of Advanced Non-Euclidean Geometry (which absolutely deserves capitalization) and accretion disks, and her internship at the Jet Propulsion Lab.
By the time they finally reach his hotel, her cheek muscles hurt from smiling, and she can't remember the last time she was this elated. He just stares at her for a long moment, before opening the car door. He starts to get out, but then stops, and turns back to her.
"How about dinner?"
She knows she's blushing when she agrees.