Page 125 of All the way home

“Yeah. Weirdly, acting is way harder than stats, if you’ll believe it.”

“I will.” Rena blows out a breath. “I was always so impressed when I saw your shows. Oscar too.”

At this, Sahar smiles. It’s the first real smile Rena’s gotten out of her in a year and a half, all dimples. “Really?”

“I could never get up on a stage like you do. It’s basically wizardry.”

Sahar rubs at her forehead. “Engineering is wizardry.”

“It’s just numbers.”

“Oh, just.”

Rena laughs.

Sahar beams. Sinking slowly into her seat, she passes a hand over her forehead and says, “Man. What a fucking day.”

“Tell me about it.”

Eyeing her, still smiling, Sahar says, “You tell me about it.”

It sounds like she means it. After a moment, Rena steels herself, and says, “Well, I’ve been fighting with everyone, this storm is dead set on ruining everything, and I just—I’ve finally started to actually let myself think about the things I’ve been holding back for as long as I can remember, but I can’t actually do anything about any of it, because I’m stuck in an airport.”

“Everyone has their breaking point.”

Rena nods, abruptly weary. “You think we’re all getting off the ground anytime soon?”

“Don’t know,” Sahar says. “I’m actually getting out of here.”

“You’re leaving?”

Sahar nods. “I talked it through with my parents, and we’re going to rebook my flight.”

“So . . . you’re free to go?” Rena asks, confused. “Then what are you doing all the way over here?”

“I was looking for you,” she admits, without a trace of self-consciousness. “Part of me thought that maybe if you were, like . . .”

“A captive audience?” Rena can’t help laughing.

“Look, if there was anyplace I thought maybe I could corner you and apologize, this seemed like a good option.” Sahar stands and stretches, looking down at Rena with a smile.

Shaking her head, Rena stands too. “I just can’t believe you had to beat me to it.”

“Sounds like you’ve been having your own separate crisis tonight,” Sahar says. “I’ll give you a pass this time.”

“I still owe you, like, forever,” Rena says. Then, “Are you going home now?”

“I think I am. I know you don’t really do hugs,” Sahar says, and then holds out one hand, fingers closed into a loose fist. “So.”

It’s with a strange little thrill—being seen, being remembered—that Rena extends her arm and knocks her knuckles against Sahar’s. “Get home safe,” she says, throat suddenly and unexpectedly tight. “I’ve heard there’s a pretty nasty storm out there.”

Sahar smiles. “So . . . what are you going to do about Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” Rena confesses shakily. “But whatever it is, I need to talk to my brother first.”

Hour Eleven-9:54 P.M. Chapter Forty-One

Zach