Antoinette was the first to leave. She flew to Germany the first week of August to be with her dad. Then she was going to fly directly to her college in New Mexico. Her mom and Bald Mike were going to drive down with her stuff and help her get situated in her dorm.
Antoinette didn’t want to make a big deal of saying good-bye. She didn’t want us to come to the airport. But Kai and I insisted we do something, so we all went to the downtown Jamba Juice the night before. Kai drove us in the Subaru. Once we got there, we mostly checked out the other Jamba Juice customers and made fun of some of them and also said which ones were cool. This led to us wondering what music people would be listening to at our various colleges and what they would dress like and be like in general. Antoinette thought her college would be super nerdy but would probably have some geniuses hidden among them. Kai thought everyone at New York University would be chewing gum and have designer clothes that cost a fortune. I didn’t know what the people at Cal Arts would be like except that supposedly people took mushrooms and walked around naked. Antoinette said she couldn’t see me doing that, I was too conservative, but Kai said she could see it. And I could see it too, since my brother had changed so much at college. I was pretty adaptable, I thought.
Then Antoinette’s mom called to remind her she wasn’t done packing, so then we all got back in Kai’s car and drove back to Antoinette’s. And then we really did have to say good-bye, which was kind of shocking and terrible in a way. I guess I hadn’t prepared myself for that part, actually hugging Antoinette and then standing there while Kai hugged her. Everyone started crying. Even Antoinette cried a little. And then Kai and I stood there like idiots while Antoinette went back in her house and did a final wave before she went in the door.
Kai drove us back in silence, wiping the tears off her face the whole way.
• • •
Kai left next. She left in the third week of August. She said you had to go early to NYU because the housing there was so impossible, and dorm space was so limited, and if you screwed up you might end up living on the street or under a bridge. She was pretty worried about the city in general. Her neighbor had recently visited New York and lost her wallet, or had it stolen, or something. Kai was pretty sure she would get robbed by someone or kidnapped by a taxi driver. “What’s to keep them from just driving off with you?” she said. “Who would ever know?”
It didn’t help that nobody in her family had ever lived anywhere east of the Mississippi. Her dad knew one guy who he’d gone to dental school with who lived outside New York, so they’d looked him up on Facebook and gotten in touch, in case Kai needed to be rescued. Richie laughed at all this. He said New York was “five million rich assholes walking their dogs at night” and that Manhattan was probably the safest place on earth. I told Kai this, and her dad, who I was seeing a lot of, since Kai was constantly wanting me to come over during that last week while she was packing and getting ready.
At least she had great clothes. By this point, Kai was the best dresser of any high school person I knew. All summer she had been on fashion blogs studying what people were wearing. The couple times we went to Agenda, she would wear weird colors and combinations and the other girls would be super jealous. Still, she thought she would look like a hick in New York. I’d been in Berlin, which was probably similar to New York, so I kept telling her: You’re hot. You look great. Everyone is going to think you’re amazing. But she never believed it.
Finally, her day came and I rode to the airport with her and her family. Kai cried during much of the drive. She was really scared. She’d apologize and fix her makeup in the mirror and then start crying again. Her mother was pretty upset too, and her dad was getting a little annoyed with everyone for being so emotional. He kept reminding everyone she was coming home for Thanksgiving—they’d already bought the plane ticket—which was only twelve weeks away.
When we got to the airport, we got out, and Kai suddenly remembered something she needed out of her big suitcase. She pushed it over and unzipped it, right there on the ground in front of the airport with all the cars and the people crowding by. Nobody knew what she was doing. She took out her folded clothes and stacked them on the dirty cement. She was panicking, basically. She finally found whatever she was looking for, but now she was sweating and her makeup was all a mess again. I knelt down on the ground to help her repack the suitcase, and then we all started laughing. Even Kai laughed. Then her dad took her in his arms and really squeezed her hard until she went limp for a minute to calm her down. We had plenty of time. We were two hours early.
So then she gave me a long hug, and I kissed her forehead, and she said in my ear, “Oh, Gavin, why am I so scared?”
“Because you’re doing something amazing,” I said back.
Then she got all her crap together and tromped off, all red-faced and crying but also with her determined Kai energy. I had tears in my eyes too, and her mom was crying, and Kai went into the big revolving door, and that was it. She was gone. She was gone away to New York. And we were all standing there, getting yelled at by a traffic cop. . . .
• • •
My flight was a week later. I didn’t do much for those days. I packed. I drove around. I kept my camera with me, since I was having all these different feelings about everything, and Richie always told me, whenever you’re going through something, that’s the best time to take photos.
I’d drive to the mall, the same one I’d been going to my whole life, and I’d buy some new socks or some underwear. I’d walk around looking at the people and thinking how different Los Angeles was going to be. No matter what adventures I had, or where I ended up, this mall would always be here. With these same people, eating their ice-cream cones and being content to live in the suburbs, where nothing ever happened.
My mom drove me to the airport. I mostly sat beside her, staring out the window. But it was good for my mom. She hadn’t been able to totally focus on my leaving with everything else that was happening. Now, though, for the half hour it took to get there, we talked. She said how she was proud of me for sticking to my guns. And not letting my dad push me around. And doing what I wanted to do. Which, even if it didn’t work out, she at least respected me for trying. She had loved the arts, in her way, which had led her to Echo Advertising. And here I was, doing it.
When we got to the airport, I got out and pulled my bags out of the car. My mom came around and gave me a long hug and I hugged her back and wished her luck with Henry Oswald or whatever. She told me not to think about her. And to have a wonderful time. And that I had a whole great life ahead of me. She said a few other motherly things that made me sad. I teared up a little.
But I got through that. And I went inside the airport. It was pretty busy in there, which forced me to focus. I got my boarding pass and checked my big bags, keeping my trusty Canon with me, and my carry bag. And then the security people got paranoid about the camera stuff. So they searched me again before they finally let me through.
I walked to my gate. I paced around a little bit, then settled myself by the big window and stared out at the tarmac. When they started loading the passengers, I hung back, like Richie used to do. I’m not sitting in some overcrowded plane any longer than I have to, he would say. So I let the other people go first.
When everyone else was on board, I went to the gate and handed the woman my boarding pass. She smiled and wished me a good flight. I slung my Canon over my shoulder and strode into the empty Jetway. It felt natural, that motion, that walk through the tunnel, to the waiting plane. I felt like I was in the right place. I heard a voice, my own voice say: Welcome to your life.