“Can I speak with Nelle?” James says. “Alone.”
“Sure. I’ll ... wait on the balcony.”
Once Jessie is safely outside, he motions for Nelle to join him on the couch.
“What’s wrong?”
“The pen is empty.” He shakes it. “I tried to get some out, but it’s all gone. I hate to ask you to—”
Nelle plucks the pen from his fingers. “Watch Jessie. Make sure she doesn’t turn around.”
“Wait, don’t you want to go somewhere else to—”
Nelle gasps as the metal nib cuts into her palm. A bead of ink swells, as small as a black diamond. She fills the pen and gives it to James. He writes,Nelle goes onto the balcony.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She opens the balcony door, stepping into the summer night. A car alarm blares a couple of blocks away. The hot reek of subway steam wafts in her direction. Jessie looks up expectantly.
“You can go back in.” Nelle lifts her wineglass in salute. “He’s ready to talk.”
As soon as the balcony door shuts, Jessie whirls on James so violently that wine sloshes out of her glass. She doesn’t even notice the Greenland-shaped stain it leaves on her faux cowhide rug.
“What are you thinking, running away from home with some girl you barely know? Do you know how many times your mom has called me,inconsolable, and I’ve had to talk her through it, to tell her it’s all okay, and that you’re not ignoring her texts because you hate her, which, by the way, I get why you’d ignore her texts, she is kind of annoying sometimes, but why the fuck are you ignoringmytexts?” She gulps down six ounces of wine and holds out her phone. “Call your mom.Now.”
Her tone leaves no room for argument. James takes the phone with shaky hands.
His mom answers instantly. “Hey, Jessie, I—”
“Hey, Mom.” Icy silence. “Sorry I haven’t responded to your calls or texts. I ... uh ... threw my phone in the ocean.”
“Youwhat?” she says.
Jessie mouths the same thing.
“I haven’t been answering because I threw my phone in the ocean,” he says again. “I wanted to be free from technology, I don’t know. It’s been nice not to be distracted by it, but that’s why I’ve been not answering. I haven’t been receiving your messages.”
His mom scoffs. “That doesn’t forgive anything, James. You can’t just up and leave on a random night—”
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“Your savings. School. Your job. You won’t survive if you’re not making mature decisions for your life.”
He sighs. “I have considered all of that. Look, Mom, I love you, but I honestly don’t care about school right now. I want to travel for the rest of the summer, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Whatever.”
Oh, she is angrier than he has ever heard her.
“See you in a few weeks,” she says, and hangs up.
“I hate you for making me do that.” James throws the phone back to Jessie.
She hums as she sways into the kitchen, apparently proud of herself. While her back is turned, he whips out the journal and writes,Nelle comes back inside ...
He continues the sentence,with freedom to wander all of New York City.As soon as he writes the words, they dissolve until the paper is blank. Next he tries,with freedom to wander all of the West Village, but that, too, fades. Finally, he writes,with freedom to wander all of apartment 3B, including the balcony.His chicken-scratch handwriting doesn’t disappear.
As the balcony door squeaks open, street noise trickles in. Car tireswhoosh, people’s voices drift down like feathers from the rooftop bar around the corner.
Nelle steps inside, wineglass empty, more relaxed than he has ever seen her.
