I give my friend a hug and show myself to the door. My duffle is there, packed and ready to go.
Go where is the question.
Ophelia:Stay with Meby Sam Smith
It's not a love song, more a breakup song, but it gives me the answer I need.
She's all I need.
I drive for hours, sitting in traffic on I-95, cursing this infernal country the whole time. I should chuck it all and go home, but I'm not ready to quit.
Not yet.
The drive that should take just over six hours takes closer to ten, thanks to this day being the busiest travel day of the year. It's well after midnight when I pull up in front of Ophelia's flat.
As soon as I put the car into park, I realize that I probably should have texted or called her to see if it was alright for me to crash with her, at least for a few days. I'll knock lightly and if she doesn't answer, then I'll text her.
Unfortunately for me, neither method gets an answer. I'm already wearing a jumper, so I pull my anorak out of the back seat and don it as well. I've got gloves and a cap, and what I wouldn't give for a muffler. The temperatures dip low, and it reminds me of being out in the aviary in the dead of winter.
This is ridiculous. I should check into a hotel. My whole life is ridiculous at this point, and without a doubt, I'm at an all-time low.
Yet I don't move, and eventually, I shiver myself to sleep.
Zero stars, do not recommend.
The sky is just beginning to show signs of light when my phone rings, waking me up.
"Xavier! Where are you? What are you doing?" Ophelia whispers.
"I'm outside in the car like I texted. Can you let me in and why are you whispering?"
"I'm whispering because my mom is next door and if she hears me talking at 6:30 in the morning, she'll get all up my grill about what I'm doing, and no I can't let you in because I'm not there. Have you been in the car all night?"
I shift and turn the car on, desperate for a little heat. My neck is stiff and my knee screams at me. Also, I've really got to use the bathroom.
"Yes. Alastair is leaving Baltimore, so I …" I shrug, not that she can see it. "I've nowhere to go. I can't get through to the Terrors, and I'm sure they're all on holiday for the next several days. Where are you?"
"I'm at my brother's in Connecticut for Thanksgiving."
Bollocks.
"No worries. I'll figure something out." I run my cold fingers through my hair, pushing the cap off my head.Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Come down here. You can't be alone on Thanksgiving."
I have to laugh. "It's not like I celebrate the holiday, you know."
She continues to whisper. "Oh yeah. Duh." She pauses before continuing. "I don't want you to be alone."
Something rolls over in my chest. "How far is it?"
According to the address Ophelia texts me, I should be there in just under two hours. After stopping to fuel and take care of my most pressing biological needs, as well as grab a cup of Dunkin', I'm driving again, this time west on I-90. I wish I could shower before I have to meet Ophelia's family.
Her family.
My head starts to pound. This is going to be a right disaster.
Chapter 37: Ophelia
