Let's Get Lost. Adi Alsaid

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      “I haven’t really planned much out. I’m just going to play it by ear, see where I end up.”

      “You’ve already seen Vicksburg,” Hudson said. “It’s all downhill from here.”

      Leila chuckled in a way he hadn’t heard before, a laugh that was soft and throaty and that shocked Hudson into goose bumps. “I’m sure the rest of the country will have trouble living up,” she said.

      After a few minutes, Walter got up to clear the table, and when he was inside, Leila pulled her feet off Hudson.

      “I guess I should let you get some rest, then,” Leila said. “You’ve got that interview.” She slipped her feet back into the flip-flops and stood up.

      The joy he’d felt since meeting her was slipping away, but Hudson didn’t know what to say to stop her from leaving. He followed her as she walked to the sliding glass door that led back into the house. She didn’t open the door, though, just stood there looking at her feet as if mulling over some thought.

      The lights from the kitchen turned on as his dad started cleaning up inside. Hudson could see Leila clearly again, her hands in her back pockets, a half-inch strip of skin visible between her shirt and the waistline of her shorts. Then she stepped forward and pulled him in for a hug. It was surprisingly strong, coming from someone her size, from someone he’d just met a few hours before. It felt achingly good to be pressed against her.

      “It was very nice to meet you,” she said. “Good luck with everything.”

      Then she planted a kiss on his cheek and walked inside. It was almost paralyzing, the kiss, the feel of her lips on his skin, the already increasing distance between them. Paralyzing enough that by the time he went into the house, Leila had already said good-bye to his dad and was at the front door. Not just at the front door but halfway out of it already. She noticed him and paused; then she waved good-bye and closed the door behind her.

      He stood in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, trying to get over the shock of seeing her leave so suddenly. When he became aware of the sound of rushing water, he noticed his dad standing at the sink doing the dishes. “Pop, need any help?”

      His dad turned, the bottom of his shirt stained dark with water. “No, thanks.”

      “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be upstairs. Night.” But he didn’t move for a while, just stood there staring at the front door.

      “G’night,” his dad called back. “I’ll be by your room at six to make sure you’re up. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

      “Right,” Hudson said. When he broke out of his daze, he climbed the stairs with measured effort and went into his room, plopping down onto his bed and pulling out the stack of papers he’d printed off the internet full of possible questions he might be asked during an admissions interview. He leafed through some pages, more aware of the sound they made as his fingertips pushed them aside than of the words on the paper. He eyed the outfit he and his dad had picked out for the interview—his blue pinstriped suit, white shirt, jade-green tie. It was hanging on the closet’s door handle, the dry-cleaning wrapper keeping the suit from wrinkling.

      A couple of minutes later, Hudson heard his dad coming up the stairs, and the lights in the hallway turned off. Hudson realized he hadn’t read a single word, so he rose from his bed and walked over to the windowsill. He sighed deeply, as if thoughts of Leila rested in his lungs and all he needed was to breathe her out. As his breath rattled the venetian blinds, he noticed that Leila’s car was still parked outside. He stepped to the window and looked through the slats. He could see her sitting inside, one elbow resting against the window, the other hand on the wheel. She pulled her elbow away and looked up at him, her eyes brilliant even from that distance. He thought about the oxbow, about wandering its entire perimeter with Leila by his side, the Mississippi River providing a roar of background noise to their conversation.

      Not tonight, he told himself as he poked his head out his bedroom door to make sure the lights in his dad’s room were off. I’m not going to stay home tonight, not when I have the chance to spend time with her. He went back into his room, pulled the cords that drew the blinds up, and slid his window open. He climbed slowly onto the roof of the porch, then eased himself onto the grass of the front lawn, looking back to make sure his dad’s lights were still off.

      Then he jogged over to the car. Leila had rolled the window down and watched him approach without saying anything. He leaned toward her open window. “Scootch over,” he said in a near-whisper. “I’m driving.”

      “What about getting some rest?” She raised an eyebrow.

      He shrugged and said, “I promised to show you a treasure.”

       4

      IT WAS PITCH-BLACK on the drive, nothing on the country lane but their headlights illuminating the occasional reflectors at the edge of the road. They glowed yellow and then faded back into darkness.

      Hudson kept stealing glances at Leila’s profile, trying to figure out what made her so attractive, but the only intelligible thought he came away with after each stolen glance was: I like her face. I really like her face.

      “So, how’d you find this treasure?”

      “It’s a local tradition. There’s always a group of kids that lays claim to it. Then, when they move on—school, babies, getting old, whatever—some new group moves in. One of my friends’ older brothers used to hang out there, and when his friends all got jobs in Jackson and Biloxi, my friends took over.”

      Only after he said this did Hudson realize he and Leila might not have the oxbow to themselves. Friday night in Vicksburg, what else was there to do? He hoped his friends had gone to the bowling alley instead.

      “What do you do over there? Dumb guy stuff?”

      “Pretty much.” He signaled and turned the car onto another indistinguishable country lane. “Toss a football around, light bonfires. Have some drinks. I’m not a big drinker, so I’m usually the designated driver.”

      “Hmm, too bad we don’t have anything to drink. It’d be fun to get drunk with you.”

      Hudson let the comment hang in the air and pretended to focus on the road as he turned off onto an unpaved street. The car rumbled over the uneven surface, kicking up pebbles that struck the undercarriage and chimed like a children’s toy.

      “How far away is this place?”

      “We’re almost there,” Hudson said, pointing lamely at a patch of darkness beyond the reach of the headlights.

      When he parked the car, Leila was quick to open the door and get out, letting in a vibrant sound. It wasn’t the river itself, the current mostly calm, but everything surrounding it: the nocturnal wildlife, the insects, the flora moving in the breeze, almost like lungs expanding and contracting. Impossible to prove, but Hudson felt that the whole length of the river was contributing to the sound, the casino boats a few miles down, the current crashing into the Gulf of Mexico in New Orleans like a jazz cymbal. It all came together to create this wall of noise that felt somehow tangible.

      “This way,” Hudson said, starting to head СКАЧАТЬ