36. (Dream a little dream?)

555-4635. No. 555-4626. No. 555-4646. No. Damn it, fingers, dial. Wait--no, damn, that's a pound sign. I hate this stupid fucking phone. Dial. Dial. C'mon, please. Heart's beating. Fast. Like, seriously beating--damn, damn, damn. Why are these buttons so small? Mom's number is so much easier to dial, for some reason. Dad's always gives me problems. Come on, come on--there, got it.

Dial-tone. Dial-tone. Dial-tone. Come on, old man, pick up.

"Hello?"

And everything comes rushing back to me. Dominique's plane arriving. Winning that car in the contest. Selling it when my mom made me. The storm. Hiding in the basement. My house getting torn to shreds. My aunt's shop being ripped apart. Giving the car money away to help my family. My mother's stupid fucking drama. I'm so tired of it. So I told Dom I'd fly to the UK with her. Just for a few days, to get away from it all. Just for a few days.

And here I am at the airport, desperately trying to get a hold of one of my parents so they don't think I'm dead or something. Why the hell wasn't Mom's phone on? Why the hell are the buttons to small on this stupid thing?

"Where are you?" he asks me, and I find I can't answer right away.

The airport, I tell him.

"Seeing that girlfriend of yours off?"

I tell him she's not my girlfriend. I tell him we're just good friends. He chuckles. And I tell him I'm going away.

"What?"

I tell him I'm getting on the plane with her and flying to Britain. Just for a few days. He asks me if my mother knows. I tell him I couldn't get a hold of her. I tell him I'm sorry I didn't tell them sooner. I tell him a lot of things.

"But just for a few days, right?"

I tell him, right, just for a few days. The plane's boarding now, I continue. I've really got to get going. He tells me he loves me. He tells me Mom feels the same. My hands are shaking. I tell him I love them both, too.

And I hang up the phone and start down the little retractable tunnel thing that leads to the plane. I'm aboard, but I'm still shaking and my heart's still pumping full-throttle. I look down the middle aisle and the plane seems to double, triple in length, twisting and turning.

I'm afraid of flying.

And then Dom's hand is in mine, and she's tugging me into a seat. Our hands end up in my lap. She smiles. I take a deep breath.

It'll just be a few days.

Right?