Page 23 of Lost
*
Kieran picked up on the second ring.
“Ly?”
Lysander breathed a sigh of relief. It had been so long since he’d heard a familiar voice, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed his old friends until now. He shut his eyes and let his head fall back against his pillows. This way he could almost pretend that he was back home in Columbus. That nothing bad had ever happened. That Mom was in the kitchen and Dakota was in her room and everything was fine.
“It’s me,” he confirmed. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice…”
Not counting Dakota, Kieran had been Lysander’s first real friend. They’d met at six years old, the last two standing on opposing teams in a game of dodgeball, the new kid from Miami and the Twin. Kieran had won, and good sportsmanship had led them to become fast friends. Hardly a day had gone by where they hadn’t seen each other. Now it had come to this.
“You too, man. How ya been?”
“Been all right,” Lysander replied. It wasn’t a complete lie. “Just trying to adjust to all the changes. How’re things up there?”
“Same, same,” Kieran said. “Mason got back together with Amanda.Again.” Lysander could almost see his friend rolling his eyes as he added, “I give them two weeks before she cheats on him.Again.”
The thought of things carrying on like normal in his absence made Lysander’s heart ache. Mason and Amanda would continue their on-again, off-again relationship; Kieran would remain the undefeated champion of the track team; Phillip would continue trying to convince everybody that aliens were real — even though he didn’t believe it himself. It gave him a sense of comfort, as if somewhere in the world there was a place where everything was as it should be. He wished he could be there, too.
But when Kieran cleared his throat, Lysander knew the conversation was about to take a turn.
“Any news on Koty?” his friend asked gently. “We’ve been on high alert up here, but nothing so far.”
“Zack's working on it. He’s got his band’s entire fanbase looking for her.”
“Wow. So he’s not a jerk, then?”
“Nope. Dakota was pretty much right about him.”
“So I guess that means you won’t be back anytime soon, huh?”
Lysander thought of Zack, off at band practice that very moment, and how he had asked if they could spend some time getting to know one another. He’d been uncertain of the request at first, sure that Zack would tire of him quickly and want his rockstar lifestyle but, but he’d come to like the idea of them having a relationship. Zack wasn’t the egotistical nightmare he’d been expecting. But a relationship required both time and effort — adding distance to the equation would only be a hindrance. And Zack would never let him go back to Columbus alone as long as he believed there to be a threat. He’d made that much perfectly clear.
“No,” he admitted. “I guess I won’t be. Sorry.”
“No big deal. I’ll just have to move to California.”
Kieran muffled the mouthpiece of his phone as a woman’s voice sounded in the background. His mother. A glance at the time told Lysander that it had just gone six o’clock. That meant it was just past eight in Wisconsin — late enough for Kieran’s mother to enforce her ridiculous rule about telephone usage.
“I’m sure you know what that was all about,” Kieran said apologetically, confirming Lysander’s assumption. “I gotta go, man. But listen. Your mom made it into the local paper. It’s only a little article, but it’s nice. You want me to email you a copy?”
“Yes,” Lysander said immediately. “Please.”
“All right, I’ll get right on it.” Even as Kieran spoke, Lysander could hear the computer starting up in the background. “Okay. Now I really gotta go, before she takes my damn phone away. But don’t be a stranger, huh? You know you can call me whenever.”
“Likewise. I’ll talk to you soon, K.”
“Later, Ly.”
Kieran ended the call.
Lysander dropped his phone onto the bedside cabinet and sighed.
He spent another few minutes lying on his bed before he chose to get up and locate his laptop, an ancient thing that his mother had bought him and Dakota to share, “Forhomework.” It took a while for him to get his email up, but when he finally did he clicked through to the only one that was of interest to him. He smiled briefly at the little message that Kieran had included —God, my mom is such a dick-tator!— before opening the attachment and waiting for it to download.
The first thing that caught his eye was the picture.
It was the portrait that his mother used for everything — online profiles, her artist picture for the few times her paintings had been displayed in the local elementary school’s gallery nights. He zoomed in. It was a simple head-and-shoulders shot where she wore a vibrant smile and her eyes seemed to sparkle, and it had always been his favourite photograph of her. He’d grabbed the original when he was packing his bags for California, knowing it was one of the few things he didn’t want to leave behind, even for a few days. It was tucked away somewhere in his still-unpacked suitcase, along with a similar one of Dakota, and he made a mental note to dig it out. It deserved to be on display, not buried. They both did.
