Again, But Better

Shane
Hey, Pies?
I wait thirty seconds.
Shane
Pies, you out there?
Thirty more seconds.
A minute. Three minutes. The messages remain unviewed.
My face crumples. I close my laptop because my meter’s
running. My plane’s waiting. I drag myself back up the stairs
and into the taxi. Ask the driver to go back to the airport.
I miss my flight.

---

When I finally land back in the United States, Leo and Alfie
are waiting for me at JFK. My expression falls as I step up to
where they’re standing, fiddling on their smartphones. I was
expecting Mom.
“What are you guys doing here? Where’s my mom?”
“Your parents sent us,” Alfie answers, still texting.
I look to Leo. “Why?” My voice cracks.
He shakes his head like he’s at a loss. “You tell us.”
I start walking toward the baggage carousel, tears welling
up in my eyes.
Leo trots after me. “Shane, come on. You never tell us
anything anymore. You’ve never been in trouble your entire
life. What the hell did you do to piss them off so much?” He
steps in front of me, blocking my way.
I close my eyes and heave a breath. I’m so tired. “Leo—” I
huff.
“Leo lost his baseball scholarship and dropped out of
school,” Alfie snickers from out of view.
Leo winces. Whatever I was about to say dies on my
tongue.
I glance at Alfie over Leo’s shoulder, but he’s back to
texting on his phone. I study Leo’s eyes. They’re blank,
guarded.
“What is he talking about?” I ask quietly. “What’s going on
with you?”
“What did you 
do
?” he asks again.
I slump forward and step around him toward the carousel.
Pilot responds to my message the next day, asking what was
up. I tell him I needed Babe’s British number because I
accidentally packed one of her shirts.

---