Discovery Bay

Chapter Three

The next afternoon came too quickly. The rain had thinned to a mist, but the sky stayed heavy and gray, clouds pressed low over the water. Envi sat on the porch steps with her arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting on them as she watched droplets slide off the railing. Every few seconds, she’d glance at the road, waiting for Catherine’s van to appear.

Landon’s duffel bag sat by the door, packed neatly hours ago. He was pacing the living room, then the hallway, then back again, like stillness itself was unbearable. He’d slept little, tossing on the couch, thoughts circling back and back to the night before. He hadn’t said what he wanted. He hadn’t said anything.

The crunch of tires on wet gravel broke the quiet. Catherine’s van pulled into the driveway, wipers swiping steadily, headlights glinting off the damp road. April jumped out before it even stopped moving, bounding up the porch steps.

“Ready?” she chirped, her energy too bright for the gray day. “Come on, if we don’t leave now, traffic’ll eat us alive.”

Catherine leaned across the seat to wave. “Landon, sweetheart, you’ve got everything? Ticket, ID, all that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was steady, polite, but Envi noticed how tightly he gripped the strap of his bag.

April darted inside to grab the duffel, tossing it toward him with a grin. “Don’t act like you weren’t going to forget it.”

“I packed it hours ago,” he said, deadpan, but the corner of his mouth tugged up.

Envi followed him out onto the porch, arms still folded around herself like she could hold everything in. She wanted to say something—anything—but her throat locked up.

Catherine ushered them toward the van. “Let’s not keep the airport waiting. You’ll have plenty of time to say goodbye on the drive.”

The ride passed in a blur. April filled it with chatter—stories about school, complaints about cafeteria food, plans for summer—while Catherine hummed softly to the radio. Landon answered when he had to, laughing in the right places, but his gaze kept sliding toward Envi beside him. Their shoulders almost touched, separated by inches and all the things unsaid.

When the airport signs finally appeared, April’s voice pitched louder, trying to hold the mood up. “You’ll email us, right? Like, immediately? Don’t go ghosting, Landon.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, his eyes still fixed forward.

The van pulled up to the departure lane, the hustle of travelers rushing past. Catherine got out first, helping him with his bag, fussing the way she always did. “Safe travels, dear. And tell your mother I said hello.”

“I will,” he said, his throat tight.

April threw her arms around him again. “Next time, don’t wait three years. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said softly, returning the hug.

Then it was Envi’s turn. She stepped forward slowly, like every inch cost her. They hugged briefly—too brief, too careful—but the second their arms touched, the spark was there again, burning low and insistent. She pulled back first, blinking fast.

“Bye, Landon,” she said, her voice quieter than she meant.

He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her he didn’t want to go, that leaving felt wrong, that he wasn’t sure how to carry the weight of Sarah’s shadow and the truth of who he was and this impossible pull toward Envi all at once. But Catherine and April were watching, the airport crowd surging around them, and the words stuck like stones in his chest.

“Bye, Envi,” he managed, and then he turned before he could look back.

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Envi’s POV:

She stood on the curb as he disappeared into the crowd, the duffel slung over his shoulder. Every step took him further from her, swallowed by the blur of strangers. She hugged her arms tighter, blinking against the sting in her eyes. They hadn’t talked about it—not the closet, not the spark, not what it meant—and now he was gone again. Just like that.

Her chest ached with the weight of what she couldn’t say, the silence louder than Catherine’s voice urging her and April back into the van.

Landon’s POV:

Inside, the terminal buzzed with announcements and rolling suitcases. Landon moved with the crowd, but every step felt unsteady, like he’d left part of himself back at the curb. He could still feel Envi’s hug, still hear her quiet goodbye.

He thought of Sarah waiting back home, of expectations and promises, of the life already mapped for him. But none of that dimmed the truth thrumming in his chest: Discovery Bay had changed something in him. Envi had changed something in him.

And he wasn’t sure how long he could pretend otherwise.