else. I found a place to sit down. Some people were passed out on the benches. They looked like bums. There was no way Iâd do that. It didnât matter how tired I was.
I couldnât get comfortable. I was worried my jacket was going to get wrinkled. I would have taken it off, but I could feel my shirt was still sweaty. That would have looked gross. I really wished I had something else to put on. I needed to save my suit for job interviews.
That made me think of something. I wasnât sleepy anymore. That slip of paper Ashbury had in the wallet. Wasnât it for luggage?
No one was looking. I opened the wallet and took it out.
I remembered right. It was a baggage claim for the airport. This airport. I read it. It didnât say much.
No: 3904. One duffel bag. To be held until May 23. ID must be shown to collect all articles of luggage
. There was some other stuff about what you could leave there and what you couldnât, but that didnât mean much to me.
I folded the paper back up and put it in my pocket.
A duffel bag. Ashbury probably kept his casual clothes in it. Jeans, T-shirts, that kind of thing. Stuff he didnât mind getting wrinkled. Stuff that would be comfortable to wear on a plane. Thatâs probably why he left it there.
There was a little key in the wallet too. I bet it was for the duffel bag. He didnât want anyone stealing anything.
It was May 22. I knew that for sure because the dance was on the twenty-third. I thought of Alexa for a second. I realized I didnât care who she went to the dance with. That had nothing to do with my life.
This was my life now. There was still time. I could get out of this wet shirt. I could keep my suit looking nice.
It was just too perfect. I felt like my grandmother was smiling down on me again. I wondered if sheâd arranged this somehow too. Nan always made sure she looked good even if she didnât have much money.
I found a sign with a map of the airport. The baggage claims office was on the main floor. I had plenty of time before I had to be at the gate.
I was fine until I got to the escalator. More than fine. I was happy. Then, out of the blue, I started getting nervous again. I kept thinking, âid must be shown.â That zit on my chin was really big now. I guess it was nerves. Ashbury didnât look like the type to get acne. What twenty-five-year-old even gets pimples? A cop was comingup the escalator as I was going down. He looked right at me when we passed. I was sweating again, bad.
I almost turned around. Then I realized how stupid I was being. The lady who sold me the ticket had looked at my ID. Think how careful she had to be! She had to make sure she didnât let terrorists or criminals on the plane. She really looked at the picture on my licenseâand she didnât notice anything. She still sold me my ticket. This time, I was only going to pick up a duffel bag. Who was going to care about ID for something like that?
The office was easy to find. There was a bit of a lineup but that was okay. I had lots of time, and anyway, the guy at the counter was moving people through pretty fast. He sure wasnât studying anyoneâs ID to see whether the guy in the picture had a zit on his chin or not.
I was being a jerk. Zits come and go anyway.
Then I remembered the earring. Why didnât I get my ear pierced like Ashburyâs?There were plenty of places that would have done it in the mall. It would only have cost me about five bucks! It seemed like such a stupid way to get caught.
I couldnât think about that right then. There was nothing I could do about it.
There was only one more person ahead of me. The baggage claims guy was joking with her. That made me relax a bit. The guy didnât look like he was too hard-ass. If he noticed I didnât have an earring, Iâd just say I wasnât wearing it that day.
How come I didnât have a hole in my ear then?
This was stupid. I
I couldnât get comfortable. I was worried my jacket was going to get wrinkled. I would have taken it off, but I could feel my shirt was still sweaty. That would have looked gross. I really wished I had something else to put on. I needed to save my suit for job interviews.
That made me think of something. I wasnât sleepy anymore. That slip of paper Ashbury had in the wallet. Wasnât it for luggage?
No one was looking. I opened the wallet and took it out.
I remembered right. It was a baggage claim for the airport. This airport. I read it. It didnât say much.
No: 3904. One duffel bag. To be held until May 23. ID must be shown to collect all articles of luggage
. There was some other stuff about what you could leave there and what you couldnât, but that didnât mean much to me.
I folded the paper back up and put it in my pocket.
A duffel bag. Ashbury probably kept his casual clothes in it. Jeans, T-shirts, that kind of thing. Stuff he didnât mind getting wrinkled. Stuff that would be comfortable to wear on a plane. Thatâs probably why he left it there.
There was a little key in the wallet too. I bet it was for the duffel bag. He didnât want anyone stealing anything.
It was May 22. I knew that for sure because the dance was on the twenty-third. I thought of Alexa for a second. I realized I didnât care who she went to the dance with. That had nothing to do with my life.
This was my life now. There was still time. I could get out of this wet shirt. I could keep my suit looking nice.
It was just too perfect. I felt like my grandmother was smiling down on me again. I wondered if sheâd arranged this somehow too. Nan always made sure she looked good even if she didnât have much money.
I found a sign with a map of the airport. The baggage claims office was on the main floor. I had plenty of time before I had to be at the gate.
I was fine until I got to the escalator. More than fine. I was happy. Then, out of the blue, I started getting nervous again. I kept thinking, âid must be shown.â That zit on my chin was really big now. I guess it was nerves. Ashbury didnât look like the type to get acne. What twenty-five-year-old even gets pimples? A cop was comingup the escalator as I was going down. He looked right at me when we passed. I was sweating again, bad.
I almost turned around. Then I realized how stupid I was being. The lady who sold me the ticket had looked at my ID. Think how careful she had to be! She had to make sure she didnât let terrorists or criminals on the plane. She really looked at the picture on my licenseâand she didnât notice anything. She still sold me my ticket. This time, I was only going to pick up a duffel bag. Who was going to care about ID for something like that?
The office was easy to find. There was a bit of a lineup but that was okay. I had lots of time, and anyway, the guy at the counter was moving people through pretty fast. He sure wasnât studying anyoneâs ID to see whether the guy in the picture had a zit on his chin or not.
I was being a jerk. Zits come and go anyway.
Then I remembered the earring. Why didnât I get my ear pierced like Ashburyâs?There were plenty of places that would have done it in the mall. It would only have cost me about five bucks! It seemed like such a stupid way to get caught.
I couldnât think about that right then. There was nothing I could do about it.
There was only one more person ahead of me. The baggage claims guy was joking with her. That made me relax a bit. The guy didnât look like he was too hard-ass. If he noticed I didnât have an earring, Iâd just say I wasnât wearing it that day.
How come I didnât have a hole in my ear then?
This was stupid. I
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