Page 37 of Spread Your Wings
Once they were in the air, Sammy pressed the button on the armrest between them and pushed it up, out of the way. He took Mustafa’s hand, tucking them out of sight beneath the corner of Mustafa’s flannel shirt. Sammy wasn’t ready to let go.
When they arrived in Atlanta, Sammy stopped for coffee on the way to baggage claim. He paid for a cup for Mustafa, too. They’d been in the air for almost nine hours. It was just before five in the afternoon in Atlanta, thanks to the time difference. Sammy rarely drank caffeine in the afternoon, but he needed the energy to speak with his mom.
Mustafa ordered an iced tea and dabbed at his forehead with a napkin. He stripped out of his flannel shirt as they stood waiting for the baggage carousel to start.
“It’s warm,” he said.
“It’s always warm.”
Mustafa grinned. “I already love it here.”
“Give it a month. In June, it’ll be hotter than the devil’s sweaty balls.” Sammy hated the humidity. It made his hair curl, and not like Jason Newsted’s pretty spirals. When his hair curled, it looked more like an atom bomb went off.
Mustafa laughed and pulled him into a hug. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Wait. What?”
“I have your address.” Mustafa waved the hotel stationery on which Sammy had scribbled his address and phone number that morning. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I get settled.”
“You’re not…”
“I will find you when I’m settled, when I know how to make a living here. Until then, I need you to make room for me in your life.”
“So, I should clean my apartment?”
“You should find what makes you happy.”
“You make me happy,” Sammy said.
“You didn’t know me when you left. Maybe I won’t fit with your old life.”
“You will.”
Mustafa nodded. “I hope so. Until then, I will give you space while I work my shit out.”
Sammy knew Mustafa was right. Mustafa had to follow Vasily’s leads for housing, school, and work. Sammy also had soul-searching to do at work. They were great together in London, but that was a vacation. Now, they needed to get back to real life.
They took their bags off the carousel and marched shoulder to shoulder toward the exit. Sammy’s heart ached. He wanted to tell Mustafa how he felt, but the words didn’t seem right. It would seem forced and fake if he said them now, as they parted.
Worse, they couldn’t do more than hug at the exit doors. Vasily’s cousin held a sign emblazoned with Mustafa’s full Cyrillic name and called out to him when she saw him. “Mustafa!Kako si? Kakav ti je bio let?” With a square face made even more boxy with her haircut, bangs across her forehead and an undercut to her ears, she looked a lot like Vasily.
“Dobro sam,” Mustafa responded. “This is my friend, Sammy Connelly.”
“Hi,” she said, tucking the sign under her arm and offering a hand.
Sammy shook her damp hand. “Hot out there?”
“Eighty. Not bad.”
Sammy nodded. It could be worse.
“We need to go. I don’t want to pay for parking.” She picked up Mustafa’s suitcase for emphasis.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” she said as Mustafa picked Sammy off the ground in a bone-crushing hug.
“I’m going to miss you.” Mustafa’s breath tickled Sammy’s ear.
