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“Our friends from the bus station. The movie couple and Sunburned Dude.”
“Probably halfway to LA by now, right?”
Russell nodded, but then smiled. “Unless.”
“Unless?”
“Unless it turns out that Jesse is a magic town that only appears once every hundred years and we actually dodged a bullet, leaving when we did.”
I frowned and leaned my head back against the window. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“Why does—it’s Brigadoon!” he sputtered. He glanced over at me for a second, then back at the road. “The musical?”
“Oh, right. I knew I knew that from somewhere.”
“You’re definitely going to need to check it out. It’s one of the best.”
“Or I could hear your musical.” This car didn’t have anything like a normal console—or cupholders—but above the vents and an ashtray there was a little kind of tray that folded down, and that’s where Russell’s phone was currently riding. I had a feeling this car was way too old to have any kind of connection to our phones, but I figured Russell could just play it from his phone and turn up the volume.
“Um.” Russell glanced down at his watch. “Maybe.”
“Right,” I said a second later, as I remembered what our situation actually was. I looked at my phone and saw that we would be at the bus station in five minutes. Not enough time to hear a whole musical. Barely enough time to hear a song. “So the next turn is George Crockett Road, and then a left on Gillespie Street.”
“Great,” Russell said, giving me a quick smile.
We must have been getting closer to the Las Vegas Strip—there were suddenly billboards popping up, advertising casinos and comedians and buffets. I tried to concentrate on them as I looked out the window, attempting to ignore the last-day-of-school feeling that had started churning inside me. I now only had three minutes left. Was this really going to be—it? Three minutes from now, I’d be on a bus and this whole thing with Russell would just be over?
Well—yeah, Katy said, sounding confused.
What did you think was going to happen? Didi asked.
“Is this it?” Russell slowed the car down and I looked around. Sure enough, there was a sign—black letters on beige tiles reading SOUTH STRIP TRANSFER TERMINAL.
“I think that’s it.” It looked like a big building—and from the sound of the plane roaring by above my head, I had a feeling we must be pretty near the airport. Russell swung the car into the lot and shifted into park.
“You’re good on time?”
I nodded. I was—but even though I had a little bit of a cushion, I was well aware I still had to go talk to someone, figure out about making sure my ticket from last night transferred over. “I should be okay.” I ran a hand through my hair—it was like I could practically hear the ticking of the clock. There was so much it felt like we hadn’t said—and absolutely no time left to say it in.
Russell held out his phone to me. “Do—you want to put your number in? And then I could text you with mine?”
I took his phone, nodding. “Right. Sure, good idea.” It seemed crazy that we didn’t have each other’s numbers—but then, until now, there wouldn’t have been a moment that we needed them. I typed my number into his phone, then handed it back. “And Montana has my email. And probably C.J., too, now that I think about it.”
Russell laughed. “I’m sure she does.”
We looked across the car at each other—the whole space filled up with everything we weren’t saying. I broke the look first, reaching down for my bag. “I should grab my stuff.”
“Right,” Russell said. He killed the engine and we both got out of the car. He helped me take out my tent and duffel bag. “I’ll wait here for a bit? In case something goes wrong?”
“That’s really nice of you. But I’m sure I’ll be okay.” I glanced across the asphalt toward the main building. It wasn’t even that far a distance. But I knew that the second I crossed it, this would be over.
“Well—okay,” Russell said. “I guess…”
“Yeah,” I said. I reached over and gave him a quick hug, barely touching, over before it started. “I guess… I’ll see you?” But even as I was saying the words, I knew I wouldn’t, most likely.
Russell gave me a smile that let me know he was thinking the same thing. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “Absolutely.”
“Okay,” I said, hating every minute of what was happening now—and hating that there wasn’t time to make it better. I gave him a nod, then turned and walked toward the bus station on legs that suddenly felt heavy.
