Page 83 of Falling in Between

My heart hammers against my ribs. “Okay. Um…” I swipe my hands through my hair. “I’ll buy a ticket. Can I dothat?”

She grimaces. “The flight’s booked. I can put you onstandby.”

“Standby…” I nod. “And if I don’t get on thatone?”

“We’ll put you on the next flightout.”

This is a mess, but it’s my own fault for being a lying idiot. “I…I…let me have a minute.” I step away, and a businessman rushing through the airport with his luggage in tow nearly mows medown.

I stand by the wall and gnaw at my lip. I should have told him at the coffee shop, in Times Square, his apartment, last night… I should have told him my real name at some point, because now look where that little white lie has gotten me! I didn’t want to admit this was serious, I didn’t want to believe he’d get this close, and most of all, I just wanted to avoid an awkward conversation. It all seems so stupid now.Way to screw everything up,Charlie!

I stare at the flight board, watching the different departures flash across the screen. The one thing I can’t do is let him leave thinking I want this to end. I have no choice; I have to call him andexplain.

I drop my bag to the floor and rummage through the side pocket. I pull out my toiletries, my wallet, but my phone isn’t there. Frantically, I fall to my knees, unzip my bag, and tear through my balled-up clothes.My phone isn’t there.The ratty NSYNC shirt goes to the floor followed by a pair of NYU sweatpants. And now, I’m dumping everything out. Panties and bras and shitty clothes lay all over the filthy airport floor. People veer around the mess I’ve made, staring at me, but I don’t care, because the bag is empty and I have nophone!

I cover my face with my hands and shake my head. This cannot be happening right now.I must have left it at the kiosk…I stumble over the pile of clothes surrounding me when I push to my feet and jog to the kiosk. But all I find on the desk are a few stray pens.The counter!I shove my way through the people waiting to check bags, slamming my sweaty palms down when I reach thecounter.

“Did you see a phone? I left my phone!” I say,panicked.

The clerk shuffles a few pieces of paper around. “No. Nophone.”

I drag my hands through my hair over and over as I walk back to mybelongings.

Delta flight 275-London Heathrow-Boarding flashes over the flight board. My chest feels like it’s in a visegrip.

Elijah’s going to think I didn’t choosehim.

And Idid.