Travis
There were no words for what I was feeling. No words for what I felt when Kris said her name. No words for what I felt the entire time I attempted and failed miserably to concentrate on my conversations tonight with my mom and aunt and brothers.
I should've gone with my gut and just driven straight to my hotel room and called Elsa like the good Travis—the new and improved Travis—would do. Do the right thing like I'd been doing for over two years now. Just like when I read Remi's letter a few months ago. As tempted as I'd been to ask my mother for her number, I hadn't. I'd considered it a blessing that I lost my phone the night of the brawl and I'd never memorized her number. Had I gotten the texts she mentioned sending, back then, I would've run away from my dad's and hitched it a
