When We Were Young

Expect the Unexpected

The classroom was freezing. I shivered and folded my arms across my chest to try and retain some heat. I was still wet from the November rain drenching the city, thanks to a broken umbrella that did nothing more than keep my head and shoulders dry. I could not get warm and shifted uncomfortably in my chair continuously.

Professor Meehran was showing slides of Renaissance paintings and I was scarcely paying attention because I knew most of the paintings she was already talking about, and I was too cold to concentrate. I dreaded going back outside and couldn't think of a store nearby where I could buy a new umbrella. This was the start of my last year of school. It couldn't end fast enough. I was growing tired of being in a classroom at night, and not with Skylar.

My phone vibrated and made a banging sound against the wood desk. The girl a few seats down from me shot me a look of disgust, which I ignored. It couldn't be Skylar, she knew I was in class, but Rachel had sent me a text. I wasn't sure why I even had my phone out. I never did during class.

You there?

In class, I typed, trying not to let the professor notice. There were no more than fifteen students in class and me looking at my phone would be obvious.

Skylar is at ALS benefit.

I started to put my phone into my bag, but it vibrated in my hand before I could. I'm with her. Call me.

I narrowed my eyes on my phone, rereading her text. Rachel wasn't supposed to be volunteering with Skylar. She never did. The only times Rachel every joined Skylar when she volunteered was when they did their 5K and 10K run fundraisers, definitely not some dinner benefit. My chest tightened and I started to shake, from fear not cold this time.

Before I could reply, Rachel texted again.

911.

The next few moments were a blur. I shoved my laptop in my bag and was excusing myself as I pushed out of the aisle. I was loud, banging into the seats, and not attempting to be quiet.

"Mr. Young, is everything okay?"

I looked up to find Professor Meehran staring at me, her hands on her hips and her face scrunched up with disgust. Everyone in the front few rows was turned around staring at me, too. "My...my...uh. It's an emergency." I was rushing down the stairs, trying to shrug on my wet coat without dropping my bag.

Her face relaxed. "Of course, of course," the Professor said with a less critical voice.

I burst through the doors and couldn't bother waiting for the clunky elevator. Flying down the stairs, I called back Rachel, who didn't answer until the forth ring.

"What happened?" I was frantic and couldn't think. Was she in a car accident? Did a taxi hit her crossing the street? Maybe she was at the gym and...

"I...I think you should just come and she'll..." Rachel's voice wavered and I don't think in almost the four years that I had known her, had I heard her voice waiver.

"Rachel! Tell me!"

I was on the street now. The rain had lessened but there was still a curtain of water drenching every piece of dry clothing I wore. I tried hailing a cab but that was nearly impossible. I was jogging down the block, searching for a subway, a bus, anything that could get me to Skylar, even though I didn't know where she was.

She inhaled sharply. "I...can't. She's okay. She's alive. I mean she needs you. We're at Mount Sinai."

I hung up and started running. I was over sixty blocks away, a half a city away from Skylar, but I ran anyway. My mind raced. My lungs filling with cold November air and it felt like concrete was strangling me. I crossed 94th Street, the pedestrian light flashing red, and slammed directly into a taxi. My fists slammed on the hood of the car, my thighs throbbing where there would sure to be bruises the next day.