“Heyyyyyy.” I recognize the slur in his voice. Can’t help but glance at the time in the corner of the phone screen. It’s not even one in the afternoon.
“Hey, Matt. What’s up?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” Very much. The tension between us has been pushing us apart, and I don’t know why he thinks calling me drunk is going to fix anything. I crave him and yet it’s too painful to keep getting pushed aside. “What do you want?”
Silence. Then light humming in a tune I don’t quite recognize. A song my mom likes, I think. An oldie.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Have you been drinking?”
“Just a sip,” he says. “Just a nip.” He laughs.
Yeah, sounds like it. I sigh. “Are you at home?”
“’Bout to be.”
My heart skips painfully. “You’re not driving, are you?”
“Nonono. I’m flying.” He hums a little louder.
The hair on the back of my neck goes up. I slide to the edge of the couch, all my senses heightened. “What? Where are you?”
“You know,” he says. “Where we fly?”
“You’re in the park?” That means he drove there, possibly drunk. And either way, it means he’ll have to drive back. Unless he’s gone camping without me.
I swallow my disappointment and put Matt on speaker. Pull up my text thread with Patrick, because I know he has a car. This counts as club business, for sure.
I need a ride ASAP
That sounds a little rude, maybe, so I add,
Club business
“Okay, well, you need to stay there until I can get there,” I tell Matt. “Don’t get back in the car, OK?”
“I think I’m going to kill myself,” he says into the phone.
My throat fills with phlegm. My heart beats double time. “What?”
Humming.
“What?” It’s barely a breath. I have no air.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The unusual seriousness in his voice radiates. For a moment, he sounds completely sober. “I wanted you to know that I do love you, Kermit.”
I slam my feet into my shoes. The phone fumbles and tips in my fingers. “Where are you? For real. In the park?”
Oh God. It all clicks as the image of him sitting at the edge of the cliff fills my mind. Oh God.
“Hmm,” he says. “I think it’s going to be beautiful.”
“What did you do?” I demand. “Tell me.”
“Hmm. Gonna do a little flying,” he says. “All the way down.”
“Matt!” I shout. “Listen to me. Don’t move.”
I put Matt on speaker again and pull up my text window, find Patrick’s thread, and dash the words off quickly:
Emergency
Matt
Pick me up RN
“Where would I go, baby?” Matt says. A beat later, he starts full-on singing. Oldies rock, for sure. “I just wanna fly.”