Page 145 of All the way home

For a very real second, he considers just leaving the airport and giving up on going home at all. Maybe this is the sign to end all signs from the universe that he shouldn’t get on that plane.

No. No. He endured eleven hours already, and if he doesn’t see Tove on the other end of this, he’s really going to lose his mind.

So, he’ll just switch seats with someone. He’s been plenty brave tonight, he can handle a little more. Absently, he touches his fingers to his mouth.

It takes him a full five minutes to find an empty outlet, and it’s down by the floor, so he sits down next to it and plugs his phone in, then presses the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“Zach?”

He jolts, wrenching his hands away from his eyes.

Kieran is standing a few yards away, hands in his pockets, hesitating like he doesn’t quite know if he’s welcome.

And like, really, Zach’s not sure he should be welcome.

Not anymore.

But it’s still a pleasant shock to the system, just to see him again, even before he speaks, voice cracked open, uncertain. “What happened?”

Zach doesn’t know what to say.

“You said you went back to the gate,” Kieran says. “I went back and you weren’t there and your stuff was gone.”

“I went back for a charger,” Zach tells him, numb all over.

And Kieran’s whole face closes off at once. It’s impressive, actually, the way he can go from a real person to something like a mannequin in a half second flat. He’d be envious if he didn’t think that underneath it Kieran’s either furious or miserable.

A vicious stab of pleasure shoots through him at the idea and evaporates before he can feel guilty about it.

“What did he say to you?”

The horrible ache Zach thought he’d squashed flares up again. “Something about how you always do this sort of thing. Single people out and make them feel like they’re important, and then—”

He can’t say it. The look on Kieran’s face is awful, broken and agonized.

Softly, he whispers, “And did you believe it?”

Zach says nothing.

Closing his eyes, Kieran rubs at his forehead. “Look . . . Neither of them knows the whole story. They both think—thought—I just ghosted him because I was bored. He called our house a bunch, and I guess he called her, too, so she thought I was the bad guy, and—and technically I was. I told you our relationship—whatever it was—fizzled, and that was a lie.”

“So you did ghost him,” Zach says.

Helplessly, Kieran runs a hand through his hair. “Can I start from the beginning?”

“Please.”

For a moment, it seems like Kieran’s going to sit down. But instead, he starts walking slowly, pivoting when he gets to the edge of the carpet and coming back, a slow pacing circle.

“My parents had us spend the whole summer at this country club—I know, I promise—for ‘family bonding,’ or whatever. But Rena brought Lucas, and my parents were too—we weren’t talking much, so I was at loose ends. The meds they put me on were working but the side effects were a bitch, and then, right when I was feeling like I was about to fall on my own golf club or whatever, this guy showed up, and it sort of felt like . . . kismet. Does that make sense?”

It makes perfect sense, Zach wants to say, because he knows precisely the feeling of someone dropping in right when they’re needed.

He nods.

“It was . . . I don’t know. It was both intense and not. It was all summer, but it wasn’t like we spent every waking second together.”

Not like tonight, Zach thinks wryly.