Page 13 of All In
Back home, I fired up my laptop to search for cheap flights. Tuition for UNLV had eaten a good chunk of the money Jonah left me, and I obsessively guarded the balance, thinking of my future shop. Round trip to New Orleans with no advance would eat up $700 of my savings and required a return date.
I hesitated. I had the money, but no idea what would happen when I saw Kacey in New Orleans or how long I’d be there. Or if I’d come back alone.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I muttered. I looked for one-way flights and found a redeye leaving tonight, arriving in New Orleans 11:00 tomorrow morning. A shitty option with a layover in Dallas/Ft. Worth, but it was the soonest they had. In fact, it departed in less than two hours. This was going to be tight, but if I waited even one day, I’d go fucking crazy.
I rushed to my bedroom, dragged a rolling suitcase out of my closet and started throwing clothes into it. I juggled my phone in the other hand, scrolling through contacts as I made a mental list of people to call before I skipped town. My parents. Oscar. I should call Gus personally so he wouldn’t fire me.
I hit ‘call’ put the phone to my ear and kept packing. The voice that answered stopped me cold.
Hey, you’ve reached Jonah Fletcher. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back. Have a good one.
An automated message said the mailbox was full.
My parents had insisted on continuing Jonah’s phone service so we could hear his voice. The mailbox was full of messages from old friends saying goodbye or telling him how much they missed him.
Instinct had made me hit Jonah’s number. Around Jonah, I felt calmer, less stressed by my own emotions that ran so fucking hot all the time.
I stared at the phone in my hand.
My vision blurred, and I blinked furiously until it was clear again. I resumed packing with a vengeance.
I found her, bro, I told Jonah, tossing a pair of jeans into the suitcase and the force of my conviction had me talking out loud.“I found her, and I’m going to make sure she’s safe. I won’t fail again, I promise.”
I gave my parents a white-washed version of the truth: a mutual friend had contacted me about Kacey. She wanted to see me. I was leaving tonight.
“Tonight?” my mother cried. “Why the urgency? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Ma. Last-minute flights are super cheap,” I lied.
“What about school?” my father asked from the line in the den. “Don’t you have midterms next week?”
Fuck.
I hurled a T-shirt into my suitcase. If I missed those tests, I’d probably have to take—and pay for—the courses all over again. “Yeah,” I said, thinking on my feet. “I’ll email my professors, tell them it’s an emergency. They’ll let me reschedule.”
“Are you certain?” Dad asked. “Last I remembered, college exams were serious business. You can’t just skip them…”
He lectured on, and I muttered a bunch of bullshit assurances as I hit the bathroom and collected my shaving kit. Finally, he hung up his end with a disgusted snort.
“Tell Kacey we love her,” my mother said. “Tell her I understand why she left. Okay?”
Maybe she understood, but I didn’t. On the drive to McCarran airport, the edges of my worry morphed into anger: I wanted some fucking answers. But by the time I was at the gate, the fury had burned out, leaving the reality I’d be seeing Kacey again. Soon. Tomorrow.
The Drowned Girl.
I imagined her hair a tangled curtain over her face, her eyes streaming black mascara tears, a bottle of booze clutched in her hand instead of a guitar.
I slumped in my chair, putting my feet up on my suitcase and wondering what pushed her over the edge. She’d been a mess after Jonah’s funeral, but we were all a wreck then. Walking around like zombies, dazed and shattered. We knew for months death was coming. Still, when it arrived, it was like a cruel surprise. You can prepare all you want for someday. Nothing prepares you for theday of.
The night Kacey and I drove to the desert to scatter Jonah’s ashes, she looked ready to blow away. As the wind took Jonah’s remains into the black sky, I reached for her hand and let the words fall out of my mouth: “Stay here.”
I wanted her to stay in Vegas, and I gave her my hand to tell her I’d help her.
“Helpme,” I may as well have been saying.
Help me, and stay here.
Stay with me.
