Two- Baggage

Never in my 27 years of life had I been this nervous. Not before any audition, any performance, or any event. Throughout my career I'd had some pretty nerve-wracking moments, but this moment topped them all. I walked as slow as humanly possible, trying to put off what was ahead of me for as long as I could. In my mind, I tried to run through all of possible scenarios of what I was bout to face.

Possibility 1: He's there by himself and we spend the twenty-minute car ride to his home in awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say. Possibility 2: He's there by himself and we spend the twenty-minute car ride arguing. Possibility 3: He's there with someone else, a girlfriend or some of his family members, and I can focus my attention on his family, who I always loved as much as my own. Possibility 4: No one is there at all, and I could just get back home to LA that much sooner. I found myself desperately hoping for the fourth possibility.

I suddenly became very aware that my heart was probably beating loud enough for everyone within a ten-foot radius to hear it. I had no idea what I was going to do when I saw him.

What do you say to the person who broke your heart a year and a half ago? How do you even look at the man that you had been in love with for over four years until he, out of the blue, ripped the rug out from under you and left you broken. How do you find the strength to be in the same room with him when you're still as in love with him as the day that he told you goodbye?

The hundreds of questions running through my mind were complicated and never ending. But it seemed that one answer fulfilled them all: I have no idea. I didn't know how I was going to get through the next four days, or if I would survive it at all. But I had no choice. I had put my own baggage aside and come here to support someone whom I would do anything for. He'd said he needed me, and I wasn't going to back out now.

As the escalator took me down to the level of baggage claim, I fidgeted with the gold ring that was still, 8 years later, on the ring finger of my right hand. I had never had the power to take it off. It was the one thing that I could look at on a daily basis that would give me hope. Looking at that ring that had so much meaning and reminded me of the happiest times of my life made me feel, if only for a moment, that things would be alright again. All of the wonderful things that little gold ring stood for told me that this separation, this divide between us, was not meant to last. Or at least that's what I made myself believe; I had to believe it. That small glimmer of hope got me through every waking moment.

I shook myself from my thoughts and started to look around the crowded baggage claim area for a familiar face. I heard his voice before I saw him.

"Vanessa Anne Hudgens. Get your skinny butt over here."

It was definitely the voice of an Efron, but it wasn't Zac's.

"Dylan!" I practically squealed as I turned to see him hovering over me. I lunged at him and he picked me up in a tight hug. I laughed as he set me back down and held my shoulders so that he could examine me.

He spun me around, looked me up and down, and declared, "Yep, it's official. You, Miss Hudgens, are shrinking. You're even shorter than the last time I saw you, which I wouldn't have even thought possible. And where's Stella, I thought she was getting here today too?" He playfully nudged my shoulder.

"She is going to be here tomorrow morning. She's driving up from L.A, the crazy girl. And that's not true that I'm shrinking. It's not my fault you're still growing! You're 24 years old, for god's sake, aren't you supposed to be done growing by now?!" I teased him and nudged him back.

"Probably. So, shall we grab your bags? I think this is your flight's coming around now." Dylan pointed to the luggage carousel that come to life.

"Sure. Wow, Dylan. I can't believe that you're getting married! When you called me and told me, I thought that I was being Punk'd! I mean, I remember when you and Kelsey first started dating. And now you're getting married! Are you excited, nervous, regretting it?" I laughed, confident that it would not be the last option. Dylan and I still talked on a regular basis and I knew that he was over the moon about his upcoming marriage.

"I can hardly believe it myself, that the wedding is only two days away. I'm actually surprised at how calm I've been through it all. I thought that I'd be nervous or something, but I'm honestly just so excited. But, of course, my mother is not handling it as well. She keeps telling me how she never thought that 'Her baby would be getting married first,' I mean we all obviously thought that…" He trailed off when he realized that he had said too much.

I turned my head away from him, trying to hide the grimace of pain that involuntarily swept across my face at the thought of the future that I could have had with Zac.

"Ness, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine. Really. I see my bags." I pointed to the far side of the carousel, where my bags had just come out.

We stood in silence as we waited for my bags to come around. When they did, Dylan grabbed them off of the carousel.

"Jesus, Nessa, what do you have in these things, steel coated bricks? You do realize that you're only here for four days, don't you?" He threw me a disapproving glance, but then laughed.

"I'm coming from New York, remember?" I pointed at myself sarcastically. "Big important movie star who had to film a big important movie."

Dylan laughed and started walking towards the exit, pulling my two heavy suitcases along behind him.

The automatic doors slid open as we approached and the familiar heat wave of July in California hit me. California was home, and it was a relief to be back after two months in New York City.

We headed to the car in silence, as I soaked in the pleasure of being temporarily content. But like so many things in life, I knew it could not last.