Rodney Junior laughed as if I’d just made the best joke he’d ever heard. I hadn’t been joking. Why would I watch a play that wasn’t at least a little bit exciting? I just wanted a good villain in it.
Something was wrong.
Not only with Rodney Junior, on a very deep psychological level, but with me.
No matter how much I fanned, I couldn’t cool down. I felt the wind against my clammy skin, too, and saw the rustling leaves on the strategically placed five trees. Therewasair. It just didn’t get to me.
Was this a panic attack?
I needed to get out of here. This was wrong. Everything about this place was wrong. This wasn’t a green space. I’d seen green spaces. First of all, they required space, not a patch of grass between buildings. Fields of nature and birds and insects. You were supposed to be able to ride through them on the back of a golden horse named Crumble.
And I missed the sky. Ever since coming back to the city, I just wanted to get a car and drive out of the concrete jungle, find somewhere where the sky took up most of my field of vision. I missed the blues of the day and the burning reds and oranges of the sunset.
I tilted my head back to check the sky above New Haven, only to be greeted with a murky soup of low-hanging gray. Of course.
I missed looking at the sky from Noah’s bed. I missed Noah’s bed. I missed—
My chest constricted.
“This is wrong,” I croaked, pressing my palm against my flushed face.
“I’m sorry, what is?” Junior asked.
“This. This place. This school. That play. This T-shirt. You. You’re so wrong for me.”
“Excuse me?” For the first time all day, Junior’s mask slipped. His perfect polish vanished and gave way to a shocked, gaping carp’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, RJ,” Dad cleared his throat and forced apainful-looking smile. “Esra is clearly a little overwhelmed by all this today.”
“Esra, honey, do you want to sit down for a moment? Let’s have a little chat.” Mom stepped toward me, and I stepped back.
“I don’t want to have a chat.”
“Esra,” Dad warned.
“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m not meant to be here.” I backed away from all three of them. Thank god there was a busy street right next to this oh-so-green campus. I had hailed a taxi before my dad had finished yelling at me to “come back here”.
“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked.
I glanced out the window to where my mother was throwing up her hands and shaking her head, while Dad talked at Rodney Junior, inches from his face. Neither of them was even trying to come after me. “Nearest airport to get a flight to Nashville.”
“That would be Hartford.”
“Hartford it is. And could you crank up the AC? I feel like I’m about to go up in flames. Thank you so much.”
It was about an hour to the airport, plus check-in and security times, which meant the only flight to Nashville I’d catch was the last one of the day. Damn. There were a few shuttle buses that ran from Nashville to Wild Fields, Bravetown in particular, but none that late. And with the stupid sling, I couldn’t rent a car.
I had a few hours to come up with a way to apologize to Noah. But in the meantime, I’d have to start somewhere.
I called Adriana and got sent to voicemail within two rings.
I called her again and got the voicemail on the first ring.
For someone who had made many enemies by ditching town, she was good at holding a grudge over me for the same thing.
So I sent her a text instead.
Esra:Think I might be pregnant.
