Page 120 of That Last Summer

“Wait!”

She didn’t. She threw Alex’s credit card in the nearest trash can. The cell phone too, but not before sending that picture to her email address. Then she walked over to the glass partition separating the security area from the departure lounge and sat down on the floor to wait... to wait for her brother.

Three hours later, Adrián arrived at the airport. He left the car wherever and sprinted inside, threw his hands up, clapping his head when he remembered: there were four terminals. He tried to call his sister for the umpteenth time, but he hadn’t been able to reach her since she’d hung up. Searching all four terminals would take too much time, time he didn’t have, but there were no other options. It took him several minutes to decide which one to start with, and he thanked the stars when he found her on the first try.

Priscila was waiting for him, sitting on the floor next to the glass partition.

“Priscila!”

“Adrián!”

She got up and put her hands on the glass. He did the same, as if they could touch each other.

“Pris, get out of there. Let’s go home, please. Tell me what happened, we’ll find a solution I promise, whatever it is.”

“No. You can’t help me this time. I’m broken inside, Adri. I feel like I’m going to shatter at any moment. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get up. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s unbearable.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it now. It would kill me.”

“Where will you go?”

“Boston.”

“What? Boston, USA? Are you nuts?”

Priscila was crying inconsolably.

“Adri, I need to go away. To get away from what I’ve seen. I’ll explain, I promise.”

“Now, Pris. Explain to me now.”

“Please, don’t make me. Just trust me. Let me do this.”

“Fuck, shit! Call me as soon as you get there, okay?”

“I threw my phone in the trash.”

“Take mine.” Adrián took his cell phone out of his pocket and went to hand it to Priscila over the glass.

“No. He knows your number.”

“He? Alex? This is all about Alex? What did he do? I’m going to kill him!”

“No, Adrián, please, I don’t want—”

“Fuck, they keep calling me!” Adrián interrupted his sister, staring at the illuminated screen of his phone.

“Adrián, go, please.”

“No way. I’m buying a ticket and going with you to Boston.”

“There are no seats left. I got the last one.”

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, overwhelmed. “Okay, okay. You have money?”

“I think so. I don’t know how much will be left on Mom and Dad’s card after paying for the ticket, though.”