Authors: Edie Claire
My mother pulled out her cell phone. I went into my
room to pack. When I came back out with my suitcase she was just finishing a
call.
"We can get you on a midafternoon flight,"
she said uncertainly. "But it would get into Denver in the middle of the
night."
"That's fine," I said quickly. "Did
you book it?"
My mother leaned heavily against the counter.
"We have to think this through, Kali. You do remember that we have no car
at the airport?"
Crap.
How could I forget? My dad had a thing about paying
for parking. He never drove to the airport if he could hitch a ride, which he
always managed to do. We had ridden all the way down to Denver on the trip out
by cramming into the back of an SUV driven by a buddy of his who happened to be
a traveling dog food salesman. My suitcase still reeked of kibble.
"I can get a ride," I said confidently.
"From who?"
"Kylee."
My mother frowned. "All the way from Cheyenne to
Denver and back? At that hour?"
I drew in a breath, sharply. Kylee had her own car.
She liked to drive; she was good at it. Unfortunately, she was
not
a
morning person.
With luck, we could be home by morning.
"That's an awful lot to ask, Kali," my
mother pointed out. "You'd need to call her, right now. I'm not booking a
ticket unless I know you can get back to Cheyenne safely. You're going to be
exhausted after the flight—you shouldn't be driving yourself anyway. Which
brings us to our next—"
I was already dialing. Kylee's ever-cheerful soprano
picked up on the second ring.
"Girlfriend!!! What's up?!"
"Hi Kylee," I began, trying hard to slow
my breathing. "Listen, I don't have a lot of time to explain, but I need a
favor."
"Name it!"
I love you.
"I'm flying back to Denver this afternoon—I'll
get there late tonight."
There was a momentary silence.
"You're leaving early?" she asked
incredulously. "What happened? Is something wrong?"
I took a deep breath. "A friend of mine was in
a car accident—a bad one. I have to get to him as soon as possible."
Another span of silence followed. I could picture
Kylee easily; eyes wide, mouth open. "
Him
? Who are you talking
about? Somebody I know?"
"No," I said quickly. "I met him here
in Oahu. Listen Kylee, I can explain later—but the thing is, I don't have a
ride home from the airport. I know it's a lot to ask, but is there any way your
parents would let you drive to Denver to get me?"
"Where is he?"
I blinked. "What?"
"I said, 'where is he?' This guy—if you met him
in Oahu, what's he doing in Cheyenne?"
A wave of cold, fringed with nausea, swept viciously
from my head to my toes.
Holy crap.
I had no idea. I could only think one step at a
time—getting back to the mainland was as far as I'd gotten.
"Where is he?" I repeated dumbly.
From her position by the counter, my mother let out
a frustrated sigh. "That was my next question."
My brain searched desperately for an answer.
"He's… I…"
Think, Kali!
"I don't know the exact hospital. I just know
he was in an accident. But I'll find him."
Kylee responded patiently. "Are we talking…
say… Wyoming?"
"I don't
know
!" I cried, my voice
close to breaking again. "Please Kylee, can you pick me up at the airport
or not?"
She wouldn't answer. "This isn't the jock, is
it?"
"No!" I said, giving my foot a useless
stamp on the condo carpet. "It's the surfer guy—" I paused a second.
Even saying the words brought heat to my stinging eyes. "The one with the
curly hair."
I moved the phone away from my ear.
Kylee shrieked profanity across the Pacific.
"Will you pick me up?" I pressed.
"Are you kidding? You know I will," Kylee
affirmed, her voice charged with determined energy. "Don't worry, Kali.
We'll find him. How bad was the accident?"
"It was bad," I murmured, "Really
bad."
My beloved pal didn't miss a beat.
"Text me before you take off; give me the
arrival time. I'll be there. And Kali?"
I let out a sniffle.
"Call Tara. She can figure out what hospital
he's in."
Tara!
Of course.
I found my voice and thanked Kylee profusely.
We hung up.
I looked at my mother with something resembling a
smile. "All set. Can we book it now? Don't I have to leave soon?"
Her lips twisted. "That's another issue, I'm
afraid. Your father won't be back with the car for at least another hour. I'm
not sure we can get you to Honolulu in time—it would be really close. It would
be safer to book the next flight."
"When does that one leave?"
"Ten-thirty tonight."
"No!" I ran my hands through my curls—or
tried to. I hadn't brushed them in so long my fingers hardly moved.
"Mom," I begged, "I can't lose that much time!"
The front doorbell rang. We both ignored it.
"I don't see that you have much choice,
Kali," my mother said quietly. "I'm sorry, but a cab from here would
be way too expensive, and even if we reached your father at the restaurant and
begged him to start out now, you'd still be cutting it close. Particularly when
you can never tell about the traffic."
A shadow drifted through my mother and across the
room, and I fought down an irrational urge to scream at her. She was a pretty
young woman wearing a yellow peignoir, and she radiated romantic notions like
living women smelled of perfume. She had amused me in the past, but now her
presence was irritating in the extreme.
"Can't we try, mom?" I begged.
"Please?"
The doorbell rang again.
A niggling memory shot through my flustered brain.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Noon," my mother answered.
I flew into the hallway and swung open the door.
I had never been so simultaneously excited—and
painfully sorry—to see anyone in my entire life.
We stopped for fast food in Haleiwa. It was not the
lunch Matt had hoped for, but his determination not to show it tugged my
heartstrings like lead.
"I'm really sorry about the change in
plans," I said again, looking at my fries without appetite. "I feel
terrible about asking you for a ride, but you have no idea how important—"
"Will you stop apologizing?" he said
lightly, in between bites of the burger he balanced on his lap as he drove.
"I was taking you to Honolulu anyway. I'm just sorry you're leaving."
"I'm not leaving forever," I said quickly.
"I really love it here. I can't wait to get back."
He smiled. "Really?"
"Really," I said sincerely.
His brow creased slightly. "This friend of
yours… you didn't mention him before."
My heartbeat quickened. I hated this. I had never
intended to be dishonest with Matt about Zane. I had never thought Zane was
alive.
"No," I said vaguely.
"Well," Matt asked simply, "Is he
your boyfriend?"
An uncomfortable lump rose in my throat, and my
stomach churned. I could not finish the fries in my lap if my life depended on
it.
"No," I answered. The words were perfectly
honest, even if I did stammer in saying them. "I would have told you if… I
mean, when you and I went out, he and I were just friends."
I was splitting hairs on the timing and the verb
tenses, but I hoped he wouldn't notice. He had assumed that my "friend on
the mainland" was someone from Cheyenne, and neither I nor my mother had
corrected him. What else could he think, when the truth was too ridiculous for
words? That just last night, I had
sort of
kissed this other guy, but
that it didn't count, because I thought he was dead?
I could not tell if Matt was bothered by my verb
tenses or not. He looked thoughtful for a moment, but made no comment. All he
did was take another bite of burger.
I fidgeted in the seat. My cell phone was burning a
hole in my pocket—I
had
to talk to Tara. I hadn't gotten a chance since
Matt arrived, and every second counted. But how could I say what I needed to
say in front of him?
Texting everything would take forever, but I had no
choice. Once I got on the plane, I'd be out of touch for the rest of the day.
"Do you mind if I text someone?" I asked
Matt, still feeling guilty every time I looked at him. "I don't know what
hospital he's in yet—but I'm hoping my friend Tara can find out for me."
He shrugged. "Sure, go ahead."
My fingers flew across the keys.
NEED HELP FAST! Friend in hospital. Don't know
where. Was in car accident recently. Name Zane Svenson.
Mercifully, I had to wait only seconds.
Kylee told me. How recently? You have a state?
I let out a long, relieved breath. God bless Tara.
Not only was she at whiz at researching just about anything on the internet,
but her father was an assistant police chief and her mother was a state
trooper. The girl had connections.
She would find him. She
would
.
Even if it might be a little harder than she
expected.
Don't know how long. Location probably on
interstate, somewhere between Hackensack NJ and Malibu CA. THANKS!!!
Less than a minute later, my phone rang. I threw a
weak, apologetic look at Matt and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Are you
insane
?" Tara's gruff alto
bellowed. "Between
Hackensack
and
Malibu
? With no
date?"
"I'm sorry, Tara," I said as softly as I
could manage, knowing it was pointless. I couldn't possibly talk low enough for
her to hear me without Matt overhearing also. "That's all I know."
"You must know something else!" she
insisted. "Think hard. Anything. How old is he? What are his parents'
names? What kind of car was he driving?"
I thought. "He's eighteen. His dad's last name
was Svenson too—I don't know his first name. His mother was Alisha Bayne. She
was an actress. But they're both dead now. I have no idea about the car. Does
any of that help?"
There was a pause. I could hear the clicking of a
keyboard in the background. "A famous actress? Like, a professional?"
"Yes. He said she was on a soap opera."
Matt cast a glance sideways and looked at me oddly.
What little lunch I had consumed curdled in my gut.
Could this get any more awkward?
"Tara," I said desperately, "I don't
even know if he's… I mean, I don't know his condition. I have to get there
soon… it's important."
The keyboard clicking continued. Her voice softened.
"I know that, Kal. I'll text you as soon as I have something."
My eyes grew moist again. I didn't think I had any
moisture left. "Thank you."
We hung up.
Matt and I spoke very little on the rest of the
journey. Whether he was trying to be sensitive to the fact that I was falling
apart, or whether he just had no idea what to say to me, I wasn't sure.
I only knew that, when at last we pulled up at the
airport and he lifted my suitcase wordlessly out of his trunk, I wanted to hug
him.
So I did.
And more accursed tears started falling out of nowhere.
"You've been so great, Matt," I said
genuinely, as soon as I could talk. "Tour guide, dance date… now
chauffeur. I have no idea how to thank you."
He stood with his arms still around my waist, not
quite willing to let me go.
"So don't," he said casually, his blue
eyes twinkling again. "I've had fun, too, you know."
I swallowed. "I'm glad."
I was enjoying his strong arms around me—I couldn't
deny it. But if I stood there, basking in his affectionate comfort for one more
second, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he would kiss me.
I couldn't do that.
Instead I stood on tiptoe, wrapped my arms around
his neck, and hugged him tightly for one last second. Then I kissed him on the
cheek and pulled away.
"I'll see you in June," I said unevenly,
picking up the handle of my bag and starting to step away. "And I expect
to hear that Frederick's water polo team totally destroyed Saint Anthony's in
the semifinals."
I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him.
"Or I'm not enrolling."
He grinned back broadly. He offered a crisp salute.
"Count on it."
My phone buzzed with another text just as I sat down
at the gate. The flight was right on time.
Is his real name Zachary?
I bit my lip, even as my heartbeat quickened. How
could I forget to tell her that? My brain was mush. I would have to try to
sleep on the plane. I would never be able to get where I needed to go if I
didn't.
Yes. Sorry. Zachary Bayne Svenson. Did you find
anything?
I waited restlessly. The airport was crawling with
shadows, but the vast majority of them were in the wrong places—too high, too
low, moving through walls. That always happened with remodeling.
The ringing of the phone startled me so much I
nearly dropped it.
"Yes? Tara?"
"I'm not there yet, Kali, but it's too much to
text," she responded, her tone all business. "It's a good thing his
mother was a celebrity, or I couldn't have found half of this." She
cleared her throat. "About his mother… do you know how she died?"
I winced. The reports in the media of her last years
were sure to be less than flattering. "I know she overdosed, yes."
"Okay," Tara said tentatively.
"Unfortunately, that's also where Zane drops out of sight. Before that, I
did find some stuff about him, from his first couple years in high school. Not
much—either he wasn't into social networking or he kept it private, but I did
find one picture of him—from the swim team. Damn, he's hot."