“Why aren’t you going to your mother’s?”
“Because I don’t want to. And I lost my passport. Besides, I want to stay here and relax.”
“What will you do for Christmas?”
“We’ll have a group meal in the dining hall for all the squatters. Plus,” Luna said, as she displayed the contents of a cardboard box, “my mother sent a care package. I’ve got all kinds of junk food, presents to open on Christmas. And Casey let me borrow the first three seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Mason gave me five joints, and Ted brought me two bottles of red wine and some bourbon. That reminds me, I need a corkscrew. My point is, I am set to have a most excellent and chill Christmas break. I might even get a small tree to make the room more festive.”
While Luna was speaking, Owen sat down on her bed and rummaged through her sad box of Christmas goods. There were candy canes, bags of jelly beans and nonpareils, and a stuffed ferret in a poorly stitched Santa suit. The idea of Luna alone on Christmas morning unwrapping a new pair of socks or underwear filled him with unspeakable sadness.
“No way. No way,” Owen said.
As Owen got on the floor to retrieve Luna’s suitcase, he worried that she’d grow suspicious. He removed the suitcase that did not have the cigar box.
“What are you doing?” Luna said.
“You’re coming with me,” Owen said, as he unzipped the suitcase.
“No. I’m staying here,” Luna said.
“You pack or I will,” said Owen.
Luna briefly wondered how Owen knew where she kept her luggage. Then she had other concerns, as Owen began opening her drawers and randomly tossing clothes into the suitcase. He knew she’d quickly intervene, since she hated anyone touching her things.
“Owen, please stop. I want to stay here.”
Owen didn’t know whether this was Luna’s true preference. The idea of his best friend being alone in a dorm room for more than two weeks was unacceptable.
“I don’t care what you want,” Owen said.
Owen rifled through Luna’s shoulder bag and took ownership of her wallet and keys.
“You have an hour to get your things together,” he said. “And then we’ll hit the road.”
* * *
—
Luna was surprised by how adamant Owen had been, that he cared so much about her, he wouldn’t leave her despite her aggressive protests. The truth was she didn’t want to be alone. The truth was also that she didn’t know how not to be. About an hour into the drive, Luna’s seesawing emotions flipped from gratitude to panic.
Owen, behind the wheel of his hand-me-down VW Jetta, had thought they were done with the conversation when Luna started in again.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Luna said. “Maybe there’s a bus stop or a train station nearby where you can drop me.”
“Relax, Luna. You’ll love it there. I promise. It’s on a lake. It’s really beautiful. It’s quiet and the food will at least be better than dorm crap.”
“Listen, Owen. I’ve changed my mind. I’m sorry.”
Owen pulled the car over at the next rest stop. “Tell me your specific concerns. I’ll see if there’s a solution.”
“I have insomnia,” Luna said. “And I don’t want to wake anyone, but—”
“You’ll take the downstairs guest room. It has its own private bath, a direct exit outside, and it’s right near the kitchen if you need to make tea or something in the middle of the night. What else?”
“I don’t know,” Luna said, shaking her head.
Owen tried to anticipate the rest of her worries. “They won’t ask too many questions. They’re warm and friendly but a tad self-absorbed. If they inquire about your mother, just say she’s on a cruise. They’ll never ask a follow-up question. Guaranteed. They’ll probably give you a hug—well, my mom will—when you arrive, but they won’t otherwise invade your space. They’re not the kind of people who get really close to you when they’re talking. Nor do they make excessive eye contact. They won’t test you on your knowledge of art or old films. If you need to leave the room at any time, just say, I’m beat. Yawn if you feel you need to sell it more. Then go to your room. No one will think anything if you need some me time.” Owen said the last part with a smirk. “What else? Everyone knocks before they enter a room—Mom had to learn that the hard way. The only warning, maybe, is that sometimes they drink too much and get a little messy. But that won’t affect you. Is there anything I haven’t thought of?”
Luna remained silent. The answer was no. At least, not at the moment. Luna was of two minds regarding the entire trip. Half of her still wanted out. The other half knew that being alone would be easy, predictable, dull, and, at times, deeply depressing. Owen’s plan at least offered the hope of something else.
Owen knew that Luna’s silence meant the fight was draining out of her. “Okay?” he said, starting the engine.
“Okay,” Luna said.
“That’s the spirit,” Owen said, mocking her dull tone.
He pulled the car back onto the road. Luna rested her eyes, exhausted already by the day. Owen blasted Coldplay to wake her up. She smacked his stereo with the palm of her hand.
“Did you warn them I’m coming?” Luna asked.
“I called my mother while you were packing,” Owen said. “She was delighted to have another woman in the house.”
“Did you tell Scarlet?”
“No, I did not. Because Scarlet is not my girlfriend, and therefore I am not required to keep her abreast of my schedule.”
During the rest of the drive, Luna gazed out the window and spoke only a few words here or there, generally answering a question or inquiring about their current coordinates. Outside, the trees were bare, and patches of snow, even a few snowbanks, lay muddying on the ground.
* * *