He was beaming out at everyone through the windows, but no one was looking in or smiling back. New Yorkers seemed to be used to seeing black stretch limos all the time. In Sage, if something like this showed up, everyone in town would find out exactly who was in there and where they were going before the limo even had a chance to arrive at its destination. Thinking about Sage and everyone there made Milo grin even more. He thought about the night of the debate. He was feeling similarly giddy. It probably had something to do with the adrenaline, and the fact that this was his first time in the big city.
Maura wasn’t acting excited about the limo, but Milo’s parents were. They kept kissing and laughing.
“Seriously, spare us,” Milo told them. “Can’t you wait until we’re back to the hotel to do that?”
“No,” said Milo’s father, kissing Milo’s mom again. Milo turned away. Maura was staring out the window. Milo caught her eye and she rolled her eyes at them. It felt more like old times, making fun of how embarrassing their parents were.
“Can I borrow your phone again?” he asked her. The battery on his was dead. “I need to call someone.”
“Eden?”
“Yeah.”
“Here you go.” Maura handed him her phone. He dialed Eden’s number. She answered on the first ring.
“Milo! I saw the whole thing! Well, of course I did. Anyway, you did great!”
“Not during the first interview. That one was pretty bad.”
Eden’s voice came through, clear and honest. “No, it wasn’t bad. You were smoother in the second one, though. You really hit your stride with it.”
“Didn’t you see me drop my paper with the questions on it?”
“Well, yeah.” Milo could hear the smile in her voice. “But it was kind of cute. I think people will like that. You were really human through the whole thing.”
Human. Milo hadn’t wanted his interviews with the other two candidates to be described as “human.” He’d hoped people would be using words like “polished,” or “professional,” or “presidential,” or maybe even “impressive” and “hot.” A guy could dream.
“Well, anyway. Guess what? When they found out I’d never been to New York before, they changed my plane ticket. We’re staying the rest of the weekend and coming back late Sunday night.”
Eden was silent. Milo felt bad. Was she jealous? She’d never been to New York either. “I wish they would have paid for you to come too, Ede. Are you mad at me?” He hoped his parents were still too busy flirting with each other to notice what he was saying. Maura hadn’t missed it, though. She raised her eyebrows at him and he turned away from her, toward the window.
Eden didn’t answer his question. Instead, she asked him one. “Don’t you remember tomorrow night is the surprise birthday party for Jack?”
“Yeah, I feel bad about missing it. But I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
“How are you sure?”
“Eden, I’m sure, okay? He won’t mind.”
“Okay,” said Eden, clearly not believing him.
“I’ll see you Monday then, right?”
Eden’s voice was precise and cool. “Yeah. I’ll see you Monday.”
Milo hung up the phone, feeling a little deflated.
“You ready?” his mom asked, looking excited. “Let’s see if we can get tickets to something tonight.”
* * *
They were waiting in front of a Broadway box office while Milo’s dad tried to buy some tickets when two teenage girls, looking hopeful, came up to Milo.
“You’re famous, aren’t you?” one of them asked. She was cute, with long blonde hair.
“Um . . .” Milo said, not sure how to respond. “Not really—”
“Yes, you are!” said her friend. “You were in that one movie, right? The one where . . .” She trailed off. “That’s not it. Wait. You’re the guy who was on TV this morning. Remember?” She turned to her friend. “We were watching it when we were getting ready. He’s the one who’s running for president.”
“Oh, yeah!” the blonde girl said.
Milo smiled. “That’s me.”
“See!” said the blonde. “You are famous. I’ve even been to your website.”
“Really? Is your school voting?”
“I think so.”
“We are,” said her friend, who was hunting around in her bag. “They said so in class last week.”
“I hope you vote for me,” Milo said.
“We will, if you’ll let us take our picture with you,” said her friend, unearthing her cell phone.
“Well, actually, I was hoping you’d vote for me because you liked my campaign platform . . .” he trailed off. They were both staring at him. “And sure, you can take my picture too.”
They sandwiched him the middle, and the friend held up her cell phone. “Say cheese,” she said, grinning widely. Milo cheesed.
The two of them clustered around the cell phone, forgetting him. “Eww! I look gross!” said the blonde. “Can we take it again?”
“Sure,” Milo said. They put their arms around him again and they all “cheesed” again. The second picture passed scrutiny.
“Thanks!” said the girl with the phone.
“I can’t believe we met someone famous!” gushed the blonde.
Milo pulled out one of the cards with his website address on it and handed it to her. “If you e-mail the picture to this address, we can post it on the site. And maybe you can check out some of the stuff about the campaign. Decide who you want to vote for and all that.”
“Okay,” she said. He handed another one to her friend.
“Good luck,” the friend said. “We’ll vote for you.” They went off together down the street, looking at the cell phone and giggling to each other.
“Teenagers.” His mom smiled, watching the girls walk away. “Always so willing to be star-struck.”
“Adults are that way too. Remember last night when you thought you saw Matt Damon and you wanted to ask the driver to pull over?”
Milo’s mom looked sheepish.
“Maybe it’s a girl thing,” Milo said, grinning.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Guys get star-struck too. I seem to remember an incident in the airport where you and Dad thought you saw that Yankees player . . .”
“That’s different. That’s sports.”
“Mm-hmmm.” His mom raised her eyebrows.
Milo’s dad came back from the ticket window, waving something at them. “I got tickets! There were still some left!”
They walked back to their hotel. Milo hoped some more girls would recognize him, but none did. However, in the hotel elevator, Milo’s fame caught up with him again. An older couple recognized him from the show.
“We saw you on TV this morning!” they said. He had to sign autographs for them, too, before he and his family could get out and go back to their rooms.
“You’re famous,” his mom said with a smile.
“Too bad he’s not rich,” his dad joked. “Those tickets cost a fortune. Milo, could you get to work on being rich and famous?”
Milo remembered Jack had once joked about the same thing. “Just don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous,” he’d said.
Milo’s relief was replaced with guilt. “Don’t forget us,” Jack had said, and Milo was wondering if he already had. First, he’d fought with Eden. Now, he was skipping out on Jack’s party.
“I should go home,” he told his parents. “I shouldn’t miss Jack’s party.”
“But we just bought tickets to the show,” his mom said. “Don’t you want to go?”
“I do, but it’s pretty lame of me to miss this party. I mean, it’s for Jack, plus Paige and Eden put all this work into it.”
“Ar
e you sure?” his dad asked. “You seemed okay this morning when we found out the trip had been extended.”
“I’m sure. I wasn’t thinking about Jack or Eden or Paige, I was being selfish. You guys can stay here and go to the play and everything.” Milo’s voice had taken on an edge. Great, he thought. Maybe I’ll fight with my parents, too.
Maura stood up and left the room. Conflict was always too much for her these days.
“I guess we can call the airline and see if we can switch you back to the earlier flight,” Milo’s dad said, sighing. “Maybe I can sell back the ticket for the show or something.”
“I’ll pay you back if you can’t. I’m sorry, I did want to go. But I wasn’t thinking straight. This is Jack’s birthday. He’s my best friend. I should be there.”
“All right,” his dad said, picking up the phone. “Are you sure you don’t mind flying on your own? We’ll go with you to the airport here, but how will you get from Haventon to Sage?”
“I’ll figure something out. I can ride the bus if I have to. Or maybe Spencer can give me a ride.”
His mom put her arm around his shoulders. “You’re a good friend, Milo.”
Ha. Milo had been an abysmal friend for the past few months. He’d made his friends ride on floats in record-setting heat, chewed them out for trying to do things like Air Force Fun, made them act like Secret Service agents for pretend debates, missed their football games . . . the list went on and on. He decided to spare his mom the knowledge.
Milo looked over at his dad and raised his eyebrows to ask: Any news?
“I’m on hold,” his dad told them, humming along to a tortured arrangement of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue.
He was still on hold five minutes later when Maura came in. She was holding her cell phone and covering the mouthpiece. “There’s a flight that leaves at eight-thirty tonight with two seats open,” she said. “Do you want me to change the tickets?” They all stared at her. “Do you?” she asked Milo. “I’ll go back with you if you do.”
“Yes.”
Milo’s mom and dad looked at each other. “Okay,” his mom said, finally. “That’s sweet of you, Maura.”
Milo watched his sister as she finished making the arrangements. Sometimes Milo felt like Maura was inching closer and closer toward something. She was talking a little more. She had stood next to him at the debate and acted like a big sister for a few minutes. And this take-charge, I’ll-fix-the-ticket-problem was vintage Old Maura, even if it lasted for only a few minutes. He wondered what it meant.
Nothing. It probably meant nothing.
* * *
The plane was almost empty. Everyone around them took their pillows and blankets and tried to curl up and sleep, but Milo was wired. He couldn’t sleep. He turned on the overhead lamp and a little bloom of light appeared on his tray, illuminating the bag of pretzels and ginger ale as though they were manna from heaven.
“Could you turn that off?” Maura asked, without opening her eyes. “I’m trying to sleep.” Apparently, she wasn’t going to be talking much tonight. Milo wondered again why she had been so willing to come home with him. Maybe she hated New York. Maybe she was sick of doing stuff for Milo’s campaign.
“Sorry.” Milo turned out the light. He looked over at the window next to Maura, which she had left open. Blackness, and a blinking light on the illuminated plane wing, was all he could see. He thought of his dream about the plane ride and Maura confiding in him. There didn’t seem to be many similarities. The engine was quiet, and Maura wasn’t talking. He watched the light blip on, off. On, off. He closed his eyes.
* * *
Later, after landing in Phoenix and eating a vending machine breakfast of fossilized chocolate donuts and stale soda, they finally got on the airplane to Haventon. It was small and had propellers.
“This reminds me of flying in Spencer’s dad’s airplane,” said Maura, a few minutes into the flight.
“Don’t remind me,” Milo told her. So far, he was still feeling okay.
Looking out the window, Milo thought again about the story of the boy who flew too close to the sun. “Hey, Maura,” he said. “Remember that myth, about the boy whose dad made him some wings?”
“The myth of Icarus,” she said. “Yeah, I remember that one.”
“How does it go again? He flies too close to the sun and gets burnt, but that’s all I can remember.”
Maura opened her eyes. “You want me to tell you the whole story?”
“Yeah.”
Her voice sounded the way it had when they were kids and he had talked her into reading to him. She even started the right way. “Once upon a time, there was a man named Daedalus. A king named Minos hired Daedalus to construct a maze to contain a monster, the Minotaur. The maze was so well-constructed that even Daedalus himself almost couldn’t get out of it when he was finished.
“King Minos didn’t want Daedalus to give away the secret of the maze. So, he locked Daedalus and his son, Icarus, in a tower.
“But Daedalus was smart. He figured out a way to escape and made wings for himself and his son. He made them from feathers and wax. He warned Icarus that, if he flew too close to the sun, the wax would melt and the wings would be destroyed. But Icarus forgot.” Maura stopped.
“And that’s when he flew too close to the sun and died?” Milo asked.
“That’s right. He got carried away. He liked flying too much, and he flew higher and higher. He forgot his father’s warning. I guess he forgot that he was just a person. Not a bird, not one of the gods, not something immortal. So the wax melted, and he fell into the sea.”
“And that was it for him.” Milo leaned over Maura to look out the window. It was early enough in the morning that the sun wasn’t up yet, and he could see a smudge of lights below.
“I think that’s Sage right below us,” Maura said.
“Too bad they can’t let us parachute out or something,” Milo said. It felt strange to fly right over his hometown, right over Eden and Jack and Mr. Satteson and Mrs. Walsh and Paige and everyone else. They didn’t even know he was right above them. It felt strange to see Sage disappear so quickly from view, to be reminded how small it was, just some lights in a desert in a vast, dark country.
* * *
Their car sat in the Haventon Airport parking lot, looking homely and comfortable after the limo. They threw their suitcases into the trunk and Maura slid into the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Milo asked Maura. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.” All the adrenaline from earlier in the day was gone. He wanted nothing more than to finish the enormous nap he’d started on the airplane.
“I’ll be fine.” Her earlier talkativeness seemed to have worn off.
To Milo’s surprise, he found he couldn’t fall asleep in the car after all. He was exhausted, but he felt watchful and couldn’t relax enough to doze off. He worried Maura would fall asleep, in spite of what she’d said. So he stayed awake, watching the familiar drive home, his head pillowed on his rolled-up hoodie. It wasn’t long before he decided that, as long as he was awake, he might as well take care of some things. “Can I borrow your cell phone again?” he asked Maura.
“It’s in the cup holder between us.”
He picked it up and dialed Eden’s number. Maybe, in this phone conversation, he could finally get it right. He looked out to see if there was a dark blue streak of dawn on the horizon, where the night met the ground. Nothing yet.
“Hello?” Eden sounded sleepy.
“Hey, it’s me. Sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“No, I just got up. Some of us have to go to school today and throw birthday parties tonight. What’s up?”
“Guess where I am.”
“I’m too tired to guess.” She sounded grumpy. “At the top of the St
atue of Liberty or something?”
“I’m in between Haventon and Sage. I’ll be home in less than an hour.”
“Really?!” She sounded much more awake now. “You came home today? You’re going to be able to make it to the party after all?”
“Yeah. I decided not to be so full of myself.”
“Good. You’ve been a little of that lately.”
“I know.”
“I haven’t been perfect either.” They were silent for a minute.
Milo cleared his throat and spoke first. “Anyway, we’re good, right?”
“Yeah, we are.” She was smiling. He could tell.
“I’ll come help set stuff up this afternoon for the party,” he promised.
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
He hung up the phone, feeling relieved. He and Eden were back to normal, or close enough. He smiled to himself.
“You’re too old for it to last like this much longer,” Maura told him, out of the blue.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Eden.”
“Okay . . .” Milo drew the word out to show her that he didn’t know what she was talking about and didn’t care and was pretty ticked that she had brought it up in the first place.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk.” Maura glanced over at him. “But you two have been friends for a long time and that’s going to change. Guys are going to ask Eden out. You’re going to ask girls out. One of you will get a boyfriend or a girlfriend and that will hurt the other and things won’t be the same after that. Or the two of you will start dating, and eventually you’ll break up, and then things won’t be the same after that either.”
“Thanks, Maura, that was really depressing.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“How is that supposed to help? Now I just feel bad and there’s nothing I can do.”
“You can at least try to take some control. Try to do something about it before something just happens to you.”
Before he thought about it, he spoke the words he’d been wanting to say for months. “What’s going on with you, Maura?” The words came out fast, but they didn’t come out angry. Even to his own ears, he sounded desperate to know.