Stevie swears she remembers something along the lines of "wait for me" being whispered into her ear somewhere in between drinks and road trips. The days are a blur, a thin line of interconnected inspiration that dare to find her as she travels from one world to the next. She is on a train, she is in the sea, she is in space, she is alone. Only one thing remains constant: the perky blonde girl that never fails to haunt her thoughts, her mind, her memories. Grace is always there between the lines of reality and illusion to remind her where she is, to remind her that she will be okay.
And she is not supposed to fall this way. This is the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong person. This is not Zander, the one everyone expects her to fall for. This is not reality; they are benders and wizards and storybook characters for crying out loud, all at once and sometimes not at all. Really, she's not sure how she got here. But she knows she doesn't want to leave.
She calls out for Kacey in the middle of the night, hoping her best friend will answer, hoping she will set some peace to this confusing, ever-changing reality. But it is Grace's voice, once again, that answers.
"Stevie?" Grace whispers.
"Yeah?"
"What's wrong?"
"Everything. Where are we now, Grace?"
"I'm not sure."
They are whisked away on a crane, taking them to the cathedral in which she imagines religions being born, she imagines angels dancing, but she does not say a word. She holds tight to Grace's hand and begs for it to be over, begs for the beautiful world to take them back to Brewster high and her parents and her friends, because that is all she wants right now, that is all she needs.
That, and Grace.
Through the back doors of the cathedral lies a field of flowers, an irrigation system, and a clock tower far in the distance. The air smells like spring and winter at the same time, the wind is warm and simple. She does not hesitate. She pulls Grace through the field, towards the clock tower, as though she can feel the reality drawing closer, as though she is almost there. Her heart soars and her converse shoes beat hard against the grass as she runs.
In front of the lonely clock tower is a wooden post, simple and worn by the days it has seen in this strange world. Stevie reaches out to touch it, and words form on the wood as she does:
true love's kiss
She doesn't know why, but she looks at Grace almost expectantly.
Grace just nods.