A Long Way From You Read Free Page A

adds, nodding toward a stunning suspension bridge. “Make sure no one sells that to you.”
    I laugh, but I’m not worrying about anyone trying to scam me. I’ve been waiting for this chance my whole life. I only wish the plane would slow down because I somehow feel that this experience is already going by too fast.
    “Don’t worry, honey,” she says. “It’s better from the ground. By the way, I’m Mary Carter Hubbard. It’s very nice to meet you.”
    I’m happy when Mrs. Hubbard extends her right hand for me to shake. I was worried that her ring would cut my hand.
    “I’m Kitsy. Kitsy Kidd. Thank you for the window seat and for the tour.” Quickly I look away from the window and gobble up the muffin and bacon that have appeared in front of me. It’s free, after all.
    “Good God. I wish I still had your metabolism.” Mrs. Hubbard sips her water daintily as if she’s worried that even water could make her fat.
    The pilot makes a few announcements—and then we start to descend.
    Hands was right: The landing part feels like driving on a dirt road in an old, rickety truck. Real flying was just as much fun as it was in my dreams. I hope the real New York is as good as the one in my dreams, too.
    When we get off the plane, Mrs. Hubbard stops me. “I’m originally from Charleston, South Carolina,” she confides softly, as if it were a secret. “But New York belongs to all of us.” She gives me a small hug, then walks a few steps before she turns around. “Kitsy, make sure you remember this.”
    “Remember what?” I ask.
    “Youth. Savor it.”
    I smile and wave good-bye. I don’t tell her that I haven’t felt young in a long time.
    I text Kiki, Hands, Amber, and Corrinne that I made it to New York. I’m a bit nervous to navigate the taxi thing, but Corrinne said even people who don’t speak English can do it. “Kitsy, you’ll figure it out, even speaking Texan. If you need help, just try to be careful of the y’all s and other Texan-speak, especially all those phrases that no one outside of Broken Spoke understands.”
    I begin following the baggage claim signs with the pictures of suitcases on them.
    As I ride down the escalator, I see a mob of people beyond security. It’s only six a.m.! Most of the crowd is wearing black suits and holding signs. Then I see a giant poster board with a picture of an apple that says KITSY KIDD, TAKE A BITE OUT OF THE BIG APPLE. Then Corrinne, dressed in white linen pants and a black tank top, steps out from behind it.
    Because I can’t help it, I find myself running down the escalator, pushing people out of the way (gently, of course), and grabbing Corrinne in a lasso-tight hug. I figure New York is used to a little aggression anyway. Even though I’ve read that nothing shocks a true New Yorker, people are staring and covering their ears because of our squeals.
    “ Kitsy Kidd! ” Corrinne exclaims. “Surprise! We’re going to be your taxi. You’re the only person who I’d wake up this early for. I hope you slept on the plane—we don’t have much time.”
    I light up, glad that Corrinne is here and I don’t have to deal with New York by myself quite yet.
    Unfortunately for me, Corrinne is going to be a counselor at a sleepaway horse camp in Virginia this summer and leaves in two days. She’s like a total cowgirl but a preppy one. Corrinne’s going to be in New York with me for only a few days: first this weekend and then my last three days in the city. I’m pretty much on my own other than that. Freaky, but exciting, since I’m in the greatest city in the world, and I only have to worry about looking out for myself.
    “What’s your bag look like?” Corrinne asks. “Tell Ivan.” Corrinne points beside her to a tall man dressed in a black suit and wearing a cap.
    “I’ll go with him,” I say quickly. I borrowed a suitcase from Corrinne’s grandparents. You don’t exactly need luggage unless you have somewhere to travel. And before this, I’ve