“A different phone,” I say and lean back in my chair. I push away the bowl of cereal, my appetite eradicated.
“Where did you get it?”
“Where do you think, Dad? I bought it. Why is this a big deal?”
“You tell me. Why did you hide this from your mother and me? What if there had been an emergency? What if we needed to reach you?”
“Then I would have picked up. I forwarded my calls. Text messages too. Reese taught me how.”
“Reese.” Dad hisses her name like it’s profane. “I should have known. This has her handiwork written all over it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your little girlfriend is melting your fricking brain, Nick. I know you like her, but she’s nothing but trouble. Sarah, back me up over here.”
Ma rises from her seat, taking her laptop with her. “I just had a breakthrough and I cannot risk stopping now. You two sort this out, and I’ll be in the bedroom.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not like that. Me and Reese.”
“Look, Nick.” His tone drops in volume, softening ever so slightly. “I was your age once. I acted out, had secret girlfriends, the whole nine yards. But I also knew when it came down to it, my father had my best interest at heart. Now I have the same for you.”
“Reese is not my secret girlfriend, Dad. She’s my best friend. And has been since middle school. So, please. Stop thinking that we’re fucking behind your back.”
Dad’s eye twitches at my brash remark.
He holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
I remain firmly in place. “No.”
“Nicholas.” His tone sharpens to a dagger.
“Why?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice level. He’s being ridiculous. This is all just a power play. I didn’t ask for his permission, so he flies off the rails. Same old, same old.
“Because I asked you. Now give it to me.”
“It’s not happening. So, stop asking.”
“Nicholas Bernard McCarthy. Give me that phone, now.” A vein pulses in his forehead with each word.
I can’t give him the phone. Even if I wanted to. There’s way too much incriminating evidence on that thing right now.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here, Nicholas. But it ends now. Give me the phone.”
A snap decision.
“Fine,” I concede, slamming my spoon down on the table. I pull out the phone, holding it up for him. “You want it so bad? Go get it.”
I hurl the phone against the wall, shielding my eyes just in time as bits of glass and plastic explode across the kitchen. The mangled remains of the phone drop to the ground in a heap.
Oh, god. What did I just do?
Dad doesn’t move. He’s rooted in place, expression hinging between calculation and straight up fury. After a few deep breaths, he stands, brushing off a stray bit of glass from his pajama shirt. He walks over to the counter without a word and picks up my car keys.
“What are you doing?” I ask, the gravity of my actions just starting to sink in.
“You’ve just proven that you can’t be trusted with the responsibility,” he says, dropping the keys into his pocket. “You need to grow up, Nick. In a month, you’ll be on your own at Duke. How can I trust you to be an adult when you’re still acting like a petulant child?”
With a surge of anger, I’m on my feet. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to behave this way if you didn’t have to control every miniscule detail of my life.”
“Control?” Dad laughter booms through the cabin. “Grow up, Nicholas. You’re too old to be making up stories.”
“Forget it,” I huff, storming past him and heading for the stairs.
“Nicholas!” Dad calls after me, but I slam the door to my bedroom before he can say anything else.
The silence that follows sits on my chest like an elephant.
I’m already so late to meet Tommy, but I have no way to contact him. I’ve searched for the past two hours on Facebook for his profile, but like the idiot I am, I never asked him his last name. And unfortunately, there are a lot of Tommy’s in the world.
I glance at the clock again.
4:55pm
Maybe I can grab Mom’s keys without anyone noticing. What more can they do to me at this point? I might as well see Tommy, even if it’s for the last time. Cracking the door, I listen for my parents. Their voices drift faintly from the bedroom downstairs.
I start down the stairs, pausing after every creek of the wood to check the door. It stays closed, the garbled voices continuing. By the time I reach the bottom, I realize that Dad is on a phone call, and the clackety clack of Ma’s typing means that she’s probably got her headphones in to drown out his droning.
Mom’s purse sits on the table by the door, her key FOB clipped to the side of the strap. I double check the door one more time, then grab the keys and open the front door.
In a flash, I’m in Mom’s SUV, cranking the engine to life. I stomp the gas pedal so hard that the tires spin for a second before they get traction on the gravel. Then I’m down the driveway and headed for town.
Hang on, Tommy. I’ll find you.
The festival is in full swing once I arrive. I walked over from the apartment, which I’m starting to regret because now I’m dripping with sweat moments before I see Nick, and I just hope that I don’t smell bad. But then again, parking is going to be a nightmare, so maybe it’s for the best.
Main street is packed with bodies. Stalls line both sides of the streets with barricades and police officers directing traffic around the chaos. Hester brings in artists and vendors from across the state to peddle their work to the Outsiders. It’s a great way to spend the day, weaving through the tables of organic dog soap and macramé bead american flags and my personal favorite—Kenny Chesney’s head carved into a block of stinky cheese.
But I’m on a mission. Nick will be here any minute.
I clutch my camera bag and push past all of the interesting knick-knacks and what-nots, carving a path to the Ferris Wheel. Excitement builds with each step, propelling me along the crowded sidewalk. Red, white, and blue decorations have exploded along the storefronts. Stars and streamers and paper machete fireworks hanging in windows and strung up on lines across the street.
I really do try to stay on task, but I end up stopping three times to snap a shot. With each close of the shutter, it’s like a piece of myself is coming back into focus. I’ve missed this camera so much.
It’s four thirty by the time I make it to the Ferris Wheel. A small booth sits at the corner of the giant contraption, a bored-looking girl probably not too much older than I am sits inside of it, looking at her phone.
I mimic her, making sure I haven’t missed a message from Nick. Nope, nothing. I do a three-sixty next. Maybe I missed him. It wouldn’t be hard to do in this crowd.
After fifteen minutes of turning in place, I’m starting to get a little dizzy, so I find a bench not far from the ticket booth and take a seat. Crowds continue to stream past me, but none of them are the tall, tawny haired boy that I’m looking for.
My phone is dying from the amount of time I mash the wake-up button to check if he’s texted me. I open up our conversation, typing out a message.
Me: Hey, I’m by the Ferris Wheel. It’s that giant white spindly looking thing, just in case you’ve never seen one before. See you soon. 4:34pm
I wait for those three little dots to pop up to let me know he’s alive, but the message just sits on ‘delivered’ until my eyes hurt from staring so long.
“Tommy!”
My head jolts up. Rod waves from across the street. I try to hid my disappointment as he crosses to join me.
“How’s it going, man?” he asks, sinking down on the opposite side of the bench. His Hawaiian shirt-of-the-day features miniature versions of George Washington wearing grass skirts and coconut bras. It’s disturbing, to say the least.
“Pretty g
ood,” I reply, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks, man. So, are you just chilling by yourself or are you waiting on someone?”
I mull over how to answer that, but before I can say anything a second familiar voice intervenes.
“There you are, babe. Sorry, the line for the shitter was around the block.”
Mel sits in the empty space between me and Rod, wrapping her hand around his.
My brain short-circuits, trying to reconcile just what it is I’m seeing.
“Hey, Tom-Tom,” she says, smiling at me. “You’re looking better.”
“T-Thanks,” I sputter. “I’m feeling a lot better, too.”
She pats my knee with her free hand. “Glad to hear it. Well we were about to go grab some funnel cake if you wanted to join us.”
“Um, I’m kind of waiting for someone. I can’t leave or else I might miss them.”
Mel raises an eyebrow. “Did this person time travel here in a DeLorean? Do they not have a cell phone?”
“It’s complicated, but the short answer is yes. They do.”
“Then come on! We’ll just be down the block. You can be back in a flash.”
“I appreciate it,” I say, trying my best to be cordial. “Really, I do. But I think I’m going to stay here for a little longer.”
“Well, all right then.” Mel gets up from the bench, pulling Rod along with her. “Guess we’ll catch you later then.”
“Wait, Mel?”
She pauses, turning back to face me.
“Hm?”
“When did that happen?” I ask, pointing to their hands.
They both look down, like they’re expecting to find something on the ground.
“Oh!” Rod exclaims when he realizes that I mean them being together. “It’s pretty new. We’re just trying things out for a bit.”
“He finally wore me down,” Mel explains, looking back at Rod with a smile. “He’s persistent.”
“Uh huh,” I nod my head in unison with the second syllable. “Well, that’s great. I’m really happy for y’all.”
“Thanks, Tommy.” Rod gives me a fist bump. “Happy Fourth, man.”
“Happy Fourth,” I reply, waving as he and Mel head back toward the center of town, fingers still intertwined.
I give it a week before they’re at each other’s throats again.
My battery is dying, but I check my phone again anyway. Still no response. It’s past five now. Maybe he’s lost?
Yeah, that has to be it. He’s stuck in traffic, or got turned around, or maybe he’s here already and just can’t seem to find the giant freaking Ferris Wheel that towers over everything else.
I huff a sigh of frustration, pulling my camera out of the bag beside me. I might as well be doing something productive to get my mind off the fact that Nick still hasn’t responded. Standing up, I check the angle of the shot in my head, then decide I need some height. So, I climb onto the bench, wavering just for a second before I get my footing. From here, the shot takes on a whole new life, elevating the focus to the strings of lights zigzagging from building to building. I snap two, just to make sure I have it.
I check my phone again, once I’m firmly planted on the ground. Still nothing. Forget it, I’m going to drive myself crazy if I keep looking at it.
Another idea bursts to life, a firework in its own regard, and I grip my camera tighter. I turn back toward the bench. I’ll stay close, just in case Nick decides he’s going to—
Stop it, Tommy. He’ll be here. Just, trust him.
I hurry off to get the shot.
“Come on!” I shout from the driver’s seat at the woman who sniped the parking spot I was waiting on. “Did you not see my blinker?”
My window is up, so of course she doesn’t hear me. She merely whips her little Roadster into the spot and carries on her merry way.
This is getting ridiculous. I’ve been looking for a parking spot for almost an hour now, and I’m about ready to just hop the curb and park this monstrosity on the sidewalk.
Another ten minutes goes by, and I see the light at the end of the freaking tunnel. I take the turn around the general store and slam on the brakes as I see red lights on the truck just two spaces down.
“Please, oh please, please.”
Sure enough, the truck lurches and rolls back, spewing fumes from the tail pipe. Once he’s cleared the space, I burn rubber to get Ma’s SUV in it before anyone gets any bright ideas.
I’m out of the car in the blink of an eye, speeding into the crowds that fill the sidewalks. I nearly collide with an old woman sporting a bedazzled american flag on her blouse, but duck around her just in time. Taking a second, I reorient myself, searching the skyline for the Ferris Wheel. It doesn’t take long to spot the white spokes, jutting out above the City Hall in the distance.
It takes me an eternity to traverse the clogged paths, but I make it to the section of street marked off for the Ferris Wheel. A line stretches from the small booth in front of the massive ride. My eyes dart from one face to another, my steps getting more frantic by the second. He’s got to be here. This is where he told me to meet him. I can’t be that late…
The clock on City Hall sounds its chimes, as if to prove me wrong. It’s six o’clock, and I’ve blown it. After my little stunt to get here, I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get to see him again. Dad will send me home, I’m sure of it. If I’m lucky, maybe he’ll let me pay for another phone. But even then, I don’t remember his number.
Desperation grips me. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, “Tommy!”
A few heads turn my way, but none of them belong to the boy I’m looking for. I try it again.
“Tommy!”
More faces looking my way, but they’re not right. Where is he? He’s got to be here. I pace the sidewalks, head on a swivel, searching. I shout his name so many times that my voice begins to go hoarse, but each time the swell of noise from the festival swallows the sound. I may as well be screaming into the void at this point.
The sun has begun to set, and my throat is raw from calling for Tommy. I stumble back to the Ferris Wheel, taking one last look before I head back to the cabin and my untimely demise. My eyes have glazed over at this point, so focusing is a struggle.
Just as I’m ready to call it quits, I catch a glimpse of a head of dark curls. The person sits on a bench, across the street from me. I can’t see their face, only the back of their head, but I swear, it has to be him.
My pulse thrums. A new vigor fills my steps as I cross this godforsaken street one last time and sink onto the opposite end of the bench. Without looking up, I let out a sigh, clutching my hands between my knees.
“It’s official. I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”
“Nick?”
I look over and relief floods through my veins. “Hey. Sorry I’m so late.”
Tommy shoves his camera bag to the other side, sliding next to me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He buries his head in my shoulder, clinging tightly.
“I guess you forgive me?” I say with a chuckle.
His answer is muffled, but then he breaks away and smiles at me. “Are you okay? I tried calling a couple times, but it just went to voicemail.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. My phone, however, is toast. It’s a long story.”
“Oh no… Well, I’ll just have to find your Facebook page or whatever so we can talk. No big deal. You’re here now.” He pulls out his own phone, “Shit, I’m almost out of juice. Hang on one sec.”
He types for a moment, probably sending a message. I take the time to reacquaint myself with the pink tint that follows his cheekbones when he’s flushed. And the way that his freckles remind me of connect the dot pages from childhood. And the beautiful ocher color his eyes turn when the light hits them just right. I could lose myself for days in these details.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I have someone here that I want to introduce you too, but I told them we’d meet u
p later.”
“Sure thing,” I say, reaching over and taking his hand in mine. “I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”
He smiles at me again, putting his phone away. “I want that too. Are you sure that you don’t want to talk about whatever happened? You just, I don’t know, seem a little off.”
“It’s stupid,” I say, playing the whole thing down. “Just got into a little spat with my dad about college. It’s not something we see eye-to-eye on right now.”
“Why’s that? I don’t think you’ve told me your college plans. I probably should have asked. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s fine. My dad’s plan for me is to go to school, major in poli sci, and then go on to get my masters and you know, amount to something.”
“But that’s not what you want?” Tommy’s grip on my hand tightens. “Sorry, I’m just guessing here.”
“It’s not. It’s actually the last thing that I want to do right now.”
He leans in closer, his thigh pressing against mine and our knees colliding. “Well, what do you want to do then?”
I hesitate. These plans are something that I’ve only ever shared with Reese, in the late hours of the night during that special time when anything seems possible and the stars feel close enough that you can reach out and touch them.
“I want to bake,” I start off, pausing to gather my thoughts. “So, I guess that means I would go to Culinary school. There’s a couple in Atlanta that I could choose from. Then from there, I’d train as a pastry chef. Maybe travel the world, apprenticing. The best chocolatiers are from France, so of course they’d be my number one pick. Then, after all is said and done, I’d come back to Atlanta. Open up my own bakery and just, make people happy. And myself. I’d make myself happy too.”
“I’m guessing your dad doesn’t agree with this alternative?”
I snort. “That’s putting in lightly. There’s a certain expectation when it comes to my family, and let’s just say, a baker just doesn’t cut it.”
Tommy frowns, the lines on his forehead deepening. “So, what are you going to do?”
Ghosting You Page 27