My Butterfly

was right. Nothing ever leaves the rafters,” I said to myself.
    I swiveled around on my heels and spotted the ladder first. It was clearly not tall enough to get me directly to the ball, but if I stood on it and used one of the other balls lying on the stage, I just might be able to knock it down.
    I rushed over to the stepladder, picked it up and carried it down another four steps to the other side of the stage. Then, I positioned it slightly under the ball imprisoned high in the ceiling and then ran back and grabbed two, rubber balls.
    Once I reached the stepladder again, I carefully climbed up its wooden planks. The old ladder had definitely seen some better days. I got about three quarters of the way up, waited for it to stop swaying, and then I balanced my weight against its frame. Next, I took the first rubber ball, arched it back and sent it flying into the air toward the volleyball. It hit the ball but then fell right beside it, and in the end, only helped to wedge the volleyball even tighter into the rafter. I took the second rubber ball then, arched it back and then sent it into the air as well. It hit the volleyball and knocked it so that the volleyball was now balancing on both the beam of the rafter and the other ball. I waited for the second rubber ball to come tumbling back down to the floor. Then, I carefully scurried down the ladder and over to where it had rolled into a dark spot under the bleachers. My hand felt for the ball under the wooden seats, then quickly recovered it. And before I knew it, I was hurrying back to the ladder again. Then, one more arch and a launch later and the rubber ball and the volleyball were both plummeting back down to the hard gym floor.
    “Yes,” I yelled, pumping my fist into the air.
    The ladder rocked, and I quickly grabbed each side to steady it again. Then, I watched the volleyball roll to the opposite side of the gym before I flew down the ladder.
    Once my feet hit the floor again, I jogged over to the volleyball and scooped it up. Sure enough, her name and number were still tattooed to the ball. I ran my fingers over the letters in her name.
    “You lasted some years up there, ball,” I said, smiling to myself. “Don’t worry, though, we’re gonna finally get you home.”

Chapter Thirty-Three
    New York 
     
     
    I put my arms through my grandpa’s old military jacket. His name and division were still etched on the tag inside. I had worn the jacket for every gig and show that I could tolerate its extra warmth under the bright lights. It made me feel as though I had a piece of him and a piece of home too, I guessed, everywhere I went.
    I adjusted the jacket over my shoulders and arms while I stood in front of the tall mirror. The dressing room was nicer than any hotel I had ever stayed in. I was alone but only because Daniel, Matt and Chris were in the other room making a big stink about the food they had left us.
    I started to fix the collar of my jacket but then stopped when I noticed the scar on my wrist. It had become a constant reminder of the night I had broken it. But what was funny about it was that I didn’t remember the fire or the fall or the trip to the emergency room anymore. Now, the only thing I remembered was waking up next to Julia in that little hospital bed. The scar had become something of a little souvenir of sorts from our last night together.
    I felt my lips start to slowly turn up as my mind got stuck on Jules. I was pretty sure she didn’t know about the crazy events that had led up to this moment, unless Rachel had told her. And I guessed Rachel hadn’t because this seemed as if it would have been something Jules might have went out of her way to mention—unless she really had forgotten about us, like Rachel always joked she had.
    I looked at my reflection again in the mirror and took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
    I let a moment pass before I opened my eyes again. I would look for her out there—just like I had every time I had stepped onto a stage. Though, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see her. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a small pin from its inside pocket. It was a guardian angel, her guardian angel. I ran my fingers over its metal surface. She promised she would come back someday, and I believed her.
    “Hey, Will,” Matt said, as he poked his head into the room.
    I turned and faced him.
    “They’re calling us up,” he said.
    “Okay,” I replied. “I’ll be right there.”
    I turned around