The Accomplice(23)
“I was just asking Luna about her post-college career plans,” Owen said.
“I’m going to be a drug rep,” Luna said, as if it was a lifelong ambition. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a reasonable career goal.
“Shut up,” said Owen.
“I would totally buy drugs from you,” said Ted.
“You always know the right thing to say to a girl,” said Luna.
“How about you, Ted? What’s your plan?” said Owen.
“MBA, then some finance job. Make a shitload of money and retire early.”
“And what will you do when you’re retired? Play eighteen holes of golf every day?”
“Ultimate Frisbee,” Ted said in all seriousness.
Owen caught Luna’s eye and gave her a familiar look: You’re really fucking this guy? Luna returned her gaze to the ceiling, because the ceiling didn’t judge her.
“How’s Scarlet?” Ted asked Owen, to remind him who his girlfriend was.
“She’s good.”
“Where is she now?” Ted asked. He had no qualms about giving Owen the third degree.
“I have no idea. We don’t keep tabs.”
Luna didn’t like it when Owen and Ted spoke to each other. Their conversations always sounded like water simmering before the boil.
“I am a firm believer in extraterrestrial life,” Luna said.
* * *
—
Owen loaded up his car for the drive to his family’s house in the Berkshires and dropped by Luna’s room to say goodbye. Luna, still in her pajamas, had a thousand-piece puzzle scattered on top of a flattened cardboard box on her floor. She had just matched a corner piece to its vertical mate.
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you this morning,” Owen said.
Luna got up from the floor and gave Owen a warm hug. “Have a great holiday. See you in 2004.”
Owen saw no evidence that Luna was prepping for a trip. Her room was as tidy as ever and there was no suitcase in sight.
“What time is your flight?” Owen said.
“What flight?”
“Aren’t you going to Ontario for the holidays?”
“What gave you that idea? I’m staying here,” Luna said.
“In the dorm?”
“Yes.”
“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.”