Three weeks before, his classmates had thrown him a surprise eighteenth birthday party. He hated surprises, but this was a nice one and he had a good time—it was his last chance to say good-bye to everyone who was leaving.
As they got closer to security, Ben gave his parents a semi–bear hug good-bye. His mom had dry eyes but his dad did not. Then it was Ben’s turn to take out his laptop and remove his shoes.
“Bye.” Another series of hugs all around. “I’ll call you went I get to L.A.”
Ben, JD, and Ro passed through security, then checked for their respective flights. Ro was going to Philadelphia via Midway, JD was going to Durham via Baltimore, and Ben was going straight to L.A.
The Sunport was pink and green with little booths selling turquoise jewelry and knickknacks that were supposed to remind people that they were in the Southwest. JD was going to a bigger town, although Durham was still small compared to many other cities. The adjustment wouldn’t be too hard, especially since he’d be breathing football, parties, and girls—there would be no time to be lonely. Ro had lived in or near a big city almost her entire life. She was going back to her roots.
Ben was alone—a small-town boy going to the big city for the first time. Ro and JD had regular backpacks, while Ben had a wheelie bag. He felt like a six-year-old, but better to feel infantile than to rip something open.
The boys sat with Ro between them. While Ben began fussing with his laptop, JD and Ro carried on a semiprivate conversation revolving around JD’s football games and Ro’s choice of a sorority. Ben thought about navigating life without a quest.
Within a half hour, there was a boarding announcement for the flight to Baltimore, and that’s when JD got up. He hugged Ben first.
“Take care, Vicks. And when your start-up offers its IPO, let me in on it.”
“You’ll be the first one I call.”
“And when we make it into the finals, give me a call and I’ll wrangle you a ticket.”
“I’ll be there, James David, making sure you don’t do anything felonious in the after-game celebration. Take care.”
Ben took his wheelie and went over to his gate, giving JD and Ro some privacy to say their good-byes.
Five minutes later Ro sat down next to him. “I have a little time.”
“You want to sit by your gate? You’re leaving first.”
“This is fine. I’ll hear the boarding announcements.”
“What boarding group are you?”
“C.”
“I’m C too.”
“I’ll probably get seated next to a sleazy guy or a wailing baby. God forbid there should be a cute guy on board.”
“You never know.”
“I guess I’ll see you around Thanksgiving.” She fiddled with her chipped nails. “You’ll be home, right?”
“Of course. If it had been up to me, I would have never left home.”
He laughed and so did she. It was strained for both of them.
She said, “It’s really time for both of us. Although I have my doubts how much four years of parties, drinking, and sex can help me become productive.”
“I see what your priorities are.”
“And what are your priorities, Vicks?”
“Getting up in the morning.”
She hit him. The first garbled boarding announcement for Midway came across the loudspeaker. She stood up and so did he.
“I’ll walk you over.”
“It’s just across the aisle.”
“I want to be with you.”
“That’s different.” She put her backpack on and took his arm. She said, “So you’ll come visit me in Philadelphia?”
Ben couldn’t help it. His eyes moistened.
Ro said, “Okay, okay, you don’t have to visit me.”
He hugged her tightly. “Of course I’ll visit you.”
She leaned her head on his chest. “I will never, ever find another boy like you, Benjamin Vicksburg. You are an original. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She broke away. “Let’s talk when we get settled.”
“Good idea. And tell me what you think of Grant when you go for a weekend in Boston. He’s already planning a million things.”
“You know, you don’t have to set me up. I think I can do okay on my own.”
“I’m not setting you up. It’s his idea, Ro. He’s dying to meet you. That boy knows a good thing when he sees it.”
They heard the boarding announcement for the B group. Ro said, “I’d better stand in line.”
They walked hand in hand up to the gate until her group was called. Ben said, “Knock ’em dead, Dorothy. Philadelphia will never know what hit it.”
“Philadelphia is just the start, baby. Because once you’re in the majors, there is no going back.” She broke away and handed her ticket to the airline attendant. “Bye, Vicks. Go out and own the world.” She pranced down the Jetway: tall, proud, and full of herself. Ben wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Back in front of the gate for the Southwest flight to LAX, Ben was alone until his group was called. The flight was full, but he managed to snag an aisle seat next to a mother and a four-year-old kid who was already bouncing in his seat. Ben didn’t care. He liked the energy.
Before he stuffed his wheelie underneath his seat, he retrieved a college guidebook, well-worn and dog-eared, that took him back to an earlier time. Ellen and he were sitting at the breakfast bar at their house, just the two of them. It was before school and their mom was busy getting Haley dressed. He was wolfing down sugar cereal, listening to Spotify on his phone—a recent gift for his birthday. Ellen was drinking juice and munching on toast. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans, and her hair was in her eyes as she studied the book.
“I’ve found it, Benny.” He hadn’t heard her initially because of his earbuds. She hit his arm and he took them out.
“Huh?”
“I said I found where I want to go to college.”
“Where?”
“Bryn Mawr.”
“Bryn Mawr?” With his usual tact at fourteen, he said, “What’s so good about Bryn Mawr?”
“Well, it’s near Philadelphia.”
“What’s so good about Philadelphia?”
“It’s near Bryn Mawr.”
He had laughed. That much he remembered. “That’s crack-ass.” He checked his watch. He was meeting his buds before school started. They often did that. Also, he liked to bike when the roads were clear. He picked up his backpack and Ellen handed him the book.
“You keep this. I don’t need it anymore.”
He tucked the book into the pocket of his backpack. “Are you really going away to college?”
“Of course I’m going away to college,” she answered.
Something came over him. Even at fourteen, he knew he’d miss her when she left. “Then I guess I’ll have to visit you in Philadelphia.”
She gave him a thousand-watt smile. “I’d like that, Benny.”
That was the last time he ever saw his sister in the flesh. At least it had been a good memory. And perhaps because it was, he was able to keep his promise. Holding her book, he paged through until he found Bryn Mawr. She had checked it off with a smiley face, writing: This is it!
Her writing made him smile.
And then it made him cry.