Page 57 of Escape Velocity
His dad maneuvers the car to downtown Northwood.
Everything looks the exact same, like it’s a place that’s stuck in time. The hole in the wall cafe he used to study at. Northwood High and its seemingly endless football field. The bookstore he’d spend hours in.
He feels longing settling in his chest for a time that he isn’t sure was even real.
Nostalgia is a dirty liar, and he knows that despite his desire for comfortability, he never enjoyed this town as much as his head tells him he did.
His dad turns down another street, and Mason plays with the zipper of his jacket, averting his eyes from looking outside at Callum’s house.
However, a gnawing feeling tugs at him, so he brieflyglances at the house, and his eyes feel like they’re playing tricks on him as he sees Callum, walking down the stairs in gym shorts and a t-shirt, about to go on a run.
His dad scoffs. “Callum’s in town too, how about that?”
Mason glances at his dad. “It’s the anniversary of April’s death.”
His dad purses his lips and nods. “That it is.”
Callum starts running in the opposite direction down the road, and Mason watches his figure disappear in the rearview mirror.
Callum is back in Northwood at the same time Mason is.
The car veers down another street and finally comes to a stop in his driveway.
Mason sighs, unbuckling his seatbelt reluctantly. For the next three days he has to pretend that everything is fine and that he’s being a perfect journalism student with perfect grades, perfect writing, and doing everything so damn perfectly.
He actually planned a script for this weekend.
It’s simple, but it’s effective. It avoids all things Callum Brown and includes all things journalism andThe Goldberg.
He gets out of the passenger seat and slams the door, his dad getting his duffel bag from the trunk.
“Welcome home, bud,” he says, like Mason has been looking forward to it for the past two months. In reality, he hasn’t been as happy as he was when he dropped his bags on the floor of his dorm room at the end of August, closing the door behind his parents after a hurried “goodbye.”
“Glad to be back,” Mason says with a tight smile.
It’s a lie, but that’s nothing new. If only his parentsknew how much he’s been lying ever since he left Northwood.
The afternoon and evening pass without much of a hassle. He stays in his room most of the time, promising he’ll socialize more in the morning with his parents.
He uses the good ol’ “midterms” excuse. Since they’re pulling him away from his usual study routine, he says it’s only fair that he has some time to study before he can commit to his family commitments.
It’s mostly a way to get away from them, but he really does have to study.
He feels an odd sense of comfort studying in his old room again. It’s the same as he left it, with his posters and knickknacks covering every square inch of the space. Back when he dreamed of getting into Montgomery and getting out of Northwood.
He did get out. He just didn’t know the price he would have to pay to do it.
He eats his dinner in his room, and as nighttime rolls around and he says goodnight to his parents, he decides he’s due for a walk.
He puts on his jacket and steps out into the brisk October air.
He blows out a long breath and watches as the fog dissipates in front of him.
He’s not sure why he thinks going out for a walk will clear his head. He’ll just get reminded of everything he left behind as he passes by all of his neighbors houses, but he doesn’t feel like he has another option.
He treks for a handful of minutes before he stops in histracks as a familiar, hulking, vertically gifted frame walks down the street.
Callum’s also going for a walk.
