Page 146 of The Friend Scheme
I guess in the time since he moved his flight, they weren’t able to sell a new ticket.
Seeing it made me start to cry. Jason was supposed to be there.
There was a man in a suit seated in the aisle seat, so I didn’t have much privacy. I turned and pretended I was looking out the window. As quietly as I could, I cried, mourning what I had with him.
I told myself it would be the first and only time I would cry about this.
I think I knew, even then, that I was lying to myself.
I just finished crying for the second time. I’m back in the city now, in my car. The airport parking lot around me is massive and totally still.
I can’t stop crying.
I’ve never felt anything this painful.
It’s over.
My friendship, or whatever I had with Jason… it’s over.
I can never see him again. I just can’t. For one thing, I know I’ll never be able to trust him.
He’s bad news for me.
Pull it together.
I wipe my eyes. Oh man, my cheeks are so wet. This is so embarrassing, I’m very glad nobody can see me right now. Above me, a plane flies overhead, just taking off. It’s loud.
It’s time.
I need to head home.
I turn the engine on, and pull out of the lot.
I feel… weird. I’m completely devastated by what happened with Jason. Still, under that, though, I feel this undercurrent of confidence I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. I don’t know what it is, or why I feel this way.
Maybe it’s because I know how much I can survive now.
Or maybe this is just the leftovers of my time with Jason before his big reveal. Because I was feeling better from basically the second I left this accursed city. Maybe it’ll take a few days for it to drag my mood back down.
Or it’s something else. Something unexplainable.
Whatever it is, I don’t feel as beaten down as I normally do.
I drive through the city. Eventually, I reach home and park. I check out my reflection in the rearview mirror. Yikes. I look like a hot mess. But there’s not much I can do about that. I glance at my house.
The lights are on in the living room.
Dad’s home.
But wait.
Luke said he was crashing at a friend’s place all weekend so Dad would buy our story about us going away together for the weekend.
And yet, Luke’s car is parked in the driveway.
He’s home.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just overthinking this, like I overthink everything.
