“Do you want me to turn around?”
I can hear him shoutingKira!but he doesn’t answerme.
Okay, now I’m freaking out. I think the way my mind immediately began generatingDatelinescripts was a coping mechanism, but now we are approaching full waking nightmare territory.
I breathe in too much smoky air and start coughing.
The crowd is thin enough that I spot Nick in front of me, jogging, whipping his head right and left.
“Nick!” I wave my arms and we make eye contact for half a second. “ShouldI—”
“Kira!” He blows right past me. Like he doesn’t even seeme.
I turn around, disoriented.
Which way did I come from? Am I sure the jacket was orange?
I mindlessly follow behind Nick, jogging to keep up, even though we could cover more ground if I split off.
Nick stops a security guard. I can’t hear the conversation, but I don’t need to. The whole thing plays out in an exaggerated pantomime:
Nick holds his palm flat to demonstrate Kira’s height.
The security guard shakes her head, looking utterly disinterested.
Nick erupts in a combination of frustration and anger. There’s no moment of calculation, no internal debate. No hesitation. He doesn’t bother to elaborate. He just turns and continues his own single-minded pursuit.
I’ve never seen him move so quickly. I know he can fix things and back out of a parking space with that one-handed maneuver, but he’sagile.Almost…feral?
I’m searching, too, but mostly my head is swimming. Have I ever been that desperate for something? Has my life ever depended on anything?
The next twenty seconds are some of the most stressful moments of my life. After years of low-grade, mundane anxiety, this feels like an electric shock to my nervous system.
Finally, I hear a different voice—a woman—calling out “Here!” in response to Nick’s ragged “Kira!”
I force my legs to a jerky stop. Twenty feet in front of me, Nick and Kira are hugging. Her feet are off the ground.
“It’s okay,” Nick says over and over. I can’t see his face, but I hear the tears in his voice. Kira’s face is wet.
“Thank God,” I say, walking toward them. My heart is still racing even as I let out the biggest sigh of relief. But Nick has no idea I’m right there, standing outside of their family bubble.
I take a few steps back, giving them a wide berth. It’s their moment.
Not mine.
25
When we get back toThe Bixby, I offer to go back to my mom’s apartment. Even though Kira’s mood rebounded once we got to the car, the whole ride home, I felt like a ghost. I’d witnessed something too intense for my level of intimacy with Nick.
But he urges me to hang out at his place while he puts Kira to bed.
The expression on his face—spent, depleted—triggers an image in my head. I know exactly whom I would model him after—bearded Bruce Wayne, from the arc where Batman has amnesia. (I realize it’s impractical for Batman to have a beard, but he looked fantastic in those issues.)
I stretch out on his couch, distracting myself with my phone, waiting for him to come joinme.
An hour passes.
At some point, I hear him snoring in Kira’s room. I try to sleep, too. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, but I can’t relax.
