It's Saturday morning. I'm finishing packing the rest of my stuff before Tasha picks me up. I'm excited to go home. I haven't been there in a while. I think it'll be good for me.

But Bryce never called me back. He said goodnight on Monday, but never said anything about Christmas. And I don't know. We're not talking.

It doesn't matter though. I'm doing what I want. It hasn't been about me in a while.

My phone starts ringing and I see that it's Bryce. It takes me a minute to accept the call. "Hey."

"Hey."

"What's up?" I ask, rubbing my arm.

"I think you should stay in New York," Bryce says.

I blink. "My flight leaves in two hours, Bryce."

"I think you should stay," he says again.

"I'm going home," I tell him as I grab my duffel bag and bring it to the door.

"Please, Andy," Bryce says. "Stay."

"No. I already bought a ticket. I already told my dad. I'm going home."

Bryce sighs. "Please stay."

"Give me a reason," I tell him. He doesn't say anything. "Bryce, I'm not going to stay here and be alone."

"There's no way you'll stay?"

"Not unless you give me a reason."

He sighs again. "Have fun on your trip."

"Bryce—" He ends the call.

Fuck. What just happened? Why did Bryce want me to stay? What was our phone call? My mind starts racing. Should I stay? I still have a little bit before Tasha's supposed to come.

"Fuck," I mutter as I tug on my hair. I pick up my phone and call Bryce. It goes to voicemail, like always. "Bryce, what the fuck just happened? If you give me a reason, I'll stay. Just give me a reason. You can't just fucking shut me out, okay? I'm leaving for the airport soon. Call me back."

I set my phone down and start pacing. This is so stupid. Bryce shouldn't be able to pull this shit. I shouldn't fall for it. I should just go home and not think about Bryce.

But maybe there was a reason he wanted me to stay. I sigh and look around. Maybe Bryce is hiding something. I get up and walk to our bedroom. I start digging through Bryce's dresser without hesitation.

Maybe it's wrong to go through his stuff, but it's not even like he's here. I finish rummaging through his dresser and move to his side of the closet. I sift through the pockets of his suits and coats.

I don't know how much time I spend looking through all of his things. But when I'm done, I'm tired and feel dirty. It's like I don't trust Bryce anymore.

And it really sucks.

*********************

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" I ask as I press my phone between my ear and shoulder. Tasha's coming to pick me up in less than five minutes.

I'm going home. I don't give a fuck about Bryce anymore. There's no point in staying here where I'll be alone. And Bryce never called back. He never gave me a reason. So, I'm going.

"Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to wish you a safe flight," Dad tells me. "And Bryce still isn't coming with?"

"No. He has work." It like work is an excuse.

"Your aunt's excited to see you. It's been a while," Dad tells me.

I smile. "I'm excited to see you guys too."

"And you're sure Bryce isn't coming?" Dad asks.

"Yes. Why?" Why would Dad ask that?

"Just wondering. See you in a few hours. Have a safe flight. Love you, also your Mom's gonna be at Christmas for a little bit. Bye, love you."

"Dad—" But he already hung up. I shake my head. That's why he called. I never got along well with my mom. I even caught her cheating with my dad's best friend. She also told me repeatedly that I would never be a doctor, or make it through Med-school. And now she's gonna be at Christmas.

I hear a horn blare outside and grab my backpack and duffel bag. I'll deal with my mom and Bryce later.

"Hey, boo," Tasha says as I get in the car.

"Hey," I turn around and grin at Bobbe. "How's Chuckie?"

"Real good."

"And where did you leave Chuckie?" Tasha asks him.

"Pissin' on your pillow," he says, grinning. Tasha shakes her head and mutters something. Bobbe starts playing with something in his backpack.

"You seem off," Tasha says quietly.

"Bryce still hasn't called," I lie. I don't want to drag Tasha into whatever that phone call was.

"He'll call," she says. "Are you excited to go home?"

I nod. "Yeah. It'll be good to see my dad and my aunt."

"Any ex's you're worried about running into?" she asks.

"Not really. There was this one kid, but I don't think he'll be a problem," I tell her.

"Is that the one you were talking about the other day in class?" Tasha asks.

"That's the one." I haven't thought about Colton in a while.

"You follow him on Instagram?" Tasha asks. "I wanna see a picture."

I frown. "No, I don't follow him. But I might have an old picture." I start digging through my phone. I don't remember taking any pictures with Colton. We were only friends for maybe three months.

A weird feeling of nostalgia passes over me when I find a photo. Colton had his arm draped around my shoulders and I had my arm around his waist and my middle finger in his face. "Uh, here," I say.

"He's sexy," Tasha says.

"You ain't supposed to be on your phone when you're driving, Mama," Bobbe says.

"It's not my phone," she says. She looks back at the road. "What's his name?"

"Colton." I shake my head. "This is dumb."

"What is?" Tasha asks.

"Talking about some guy I haven't seen in years. He probably doesn't even remember my name."

"Well," Tasha says as she pulls up to my terminal. "Maybe you should reconnect with him. Or someone. Or at least get drunk and have some fun."

"I'll try," I say, smiling. "Have a good break. Bye, little man," I say as I turn around and give Bobbe a fist bump. "Bye, Tasha. I'll call you later."

"Bye Andy." I grab my backpack and duffel bag from the trunk and wave at Tasha before walking into the airport.

I sigh and tug on my hair as I wait in line to check in for my flight. It shouldn't be this confusing with Bryce. After four and a half years, I thought I knew him pretty well. I thought he knew me. I thought we didn't keep secrets.

I thought, I thought, I thought. Maybe I need to stop thinking.

*******************

"Last call for flight 229. We'll be departing shortly."

For the past hour, I've been listening to my music loudly, trying not to think about anything.

I think it's going to be good. I don't know what it is, but it's going to be good. Despite the holiday rush, I got through the security line quickly. And I got a free donut with my coffee. Plus, the plane is about to leave and I have all three seats of my row to myself.

And it'll be nice to go home. I'll get to see my dad and my aunt and maybe see some other people from high school. I'll just try to relax.

I check my phone to see if Bryce called me back. He hasn't, of course. I'm probably dumb to think that he would.

I shake my head and shove my phone into my bag and leave my earbuds on my seat. I stand up and start to shove my bag into the overhead bins.

"Is this row F?" someone asks. I turn around.

"Yes—wait, what the fuck—You fucking stalker!" I yell.

"Andy?" Colton asks. Before I can stop myself, my fist flies out and hits Colton in his nose.