“So who was the girl?” I ask.
“Just a friend. Anyway, Hastings might be moving back here. His parents divorced and his dad’s back in New York. If he moves in with his dad, we’ll be able to hang out again.”
“That’s great. So about the girl. How’d you meet her?”
“At work. She bought a guitar from me. She’s in a band.”
“And you guys started hanging out, or what?”
“Tell me about you. What’s been going on?”
He didn’t answer my question. Did he not hear me, or is he dodging the question?
“Not much,” I say. “I went out to lunch with a friend.”
“What friend?”
“Shayla. I’ve told you about her. She’s the maid’s daughter.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
The phone gets quiet on the other end, and I get that uneasy feeling in my stomach that keeps happening whenever we talk. The feeling that something isn’t right.
“Anything else?” Axl says, as if he’s hurrying me off the phone. As if my call interrupted something.
“Are you at work?”
“No. Just having dinner.”
With a girl. A girl I don’t know. A girl he won’t tell me about.
“Could I call you later?” he says. “Maybe tomorrow sometime?”
Tomorrow?Why wouldn’t we talk tonight? We always talk at night.
“I need to tell you something,” I say. “It can’t wait.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s about next weekend.” I pause. “I bought you a plane ticket.”
“Awhat?”
“A plane ticket. For you to come out here. Isn’t that great?” I say, sounding breathless because my heart’s going so fast.
The phone is silent. I check to make sure we’re still connected.
“Axl?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” he says in a quiet voice.
“You’re not saying anything. Aren’t you excited? We get to see each other.”
“Babe, I’m sorry but I can’t next weekend.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Because of work? Just switch shifts with someone.”
“It’s not that. I just . . .” He gets quiet again.
