Coming Home

Chapter 25

My legs were moving as fast as they could. I was on my red bicycle, racing down the streets, thinking of what to say to Alex. The only thing that came to mind was "sorry" but that didn't really seem to be sufficient.

I was panting and sweating uncontrollably as I finally reached Alex' parents house. I threw my bicycle on the front lawn and ran to the front door, nearly tripping over Alex' mum's flower pots while running up the stone steps.

I banged the door loudly, yelling, "ALEX! OPEN UP!" and was relieved when I saw a silhouette moving behind the small frosted glass window in the door. As the doorknob was turned and the door opened slowly, I started saying, "Thank god you are here-"

The door opened fully only to reveal Alex' dad holding a spatula, looking at me weird, "Isobel?"

"Oh, hi Mr. Turner," I panted, "I really need to see Alex! Is he in?"

"Oh sweetie, he just left. We're cooking dinner. Do you want to join?"

"Where is he?"

"Well, he's the airport of course," Mr. Turner said with furrowed eye brows, "are you alright? You look a bit pale"

I felt the blood drain from my face as I understood that Alex probably was sitting at the airport right now, waiting for his flight home to Los Angeles.

A small smile erupted on Mr Turner's face and he opened his mouth saying, "Isobel, sweetie, he's not-" but I interrupted him as I didn't want to waste more time; "Can I borrow your car? I really need to talk to him," I said with desperation written across my face.

Mr Turner eyed me suspiciously and I could see Alex' facial features so clearly in him, "Why do you have to see him so badly? Why can't you just wai-" Mr Turner was interrupted once more but not by me this time: "Oh, just give the girl your keys, David!" I heard Alex' mum yell from the kitchen, "it's clearly urgent!"

Alex' dad sighed but didn't argue with his wife and handed me his keys.

I ran to the car and jumped in. "Thank you so much! I'll bring it back as soon as possible. I just really need to see Alex before he leaves," I yelled as I slammed the door to the silver-grey Prius behind me. I could see Mr Turner's lips move, saying something to me that I wasn't able to hear over the sound of the engine starting. I pulled out of the driveway and pressed the speeder, heading for the airport.

At every red light, I tried calling Alex but without luck. "PICK UP, GOD DAMMIT!" I yelled at my phone numerous times before the light turned green and I had to put away the phone again.

After having driven for what felt like an eternity, I finally pulled up in front of Terminal 2 where all the international departures took place. I ran inside the big hall, desperately looking for some sort of information screen where I could see the airplanes coming and going. Out the corner of my eye, I finally spotted the bright screen and I turned around with a whiff, scanning every line for the three letters "LAX" indicating the airport in Los Angeles.

'Flight BA89174 to LAX, departing in 0.15 mins'

"Fuck" I muttered as I realised that I only had 15 minutes to reach Alex. With shaking hands, I managed to fish my phone from my pocket and pressed the small icon next to his name. No answer.

I tried calling him again but it rang for what felt like an eternity. Just as I was about to give up, he finally picked up.

"Issy?" he said in a hoarse voice, "are you okay? Have you been in an accident?"

"Accident? No - look, Alex, have you boarded yet?"

"Boarded? What are you talking about? Why have you called me a million times? Is everything alright?"