Never Ever (3 page)

She sat at a booth, composing a text to her friends that the weirdo from the party had taken her on a hot date to Mickey D's, but before she could hit Send, he returned with five happy meals and a goofy smile on his face. Wylie's decision to quit drinking was turning out to be a big mistake tonight. She wasn't sure how long she could sit across from him, completely sober, under the fluorescent lights of a fast-food franchise.

“I hope you're hungry,” Phinn said, still grinning. He opened up each happy meal and carefully placed containers of Chicken McNuggets, sweet-and-sour sauce, and French fries and several cheeseburgers on the table. The smell of
the food took Wylie back to simpler times, but she wouldn't allow herself to give way to her hunger. They'd watched a documentary about the meat industry in science class a couple years before, and she was still traumatized by it. Phinn, on the other hand, had no qualms about indulging in greasy food and clearly wasn't shy about eating in front of strangers. Sloppy eating would normally be a turn-off for Wylie, but on a guy this handsome, the loud chewing and the ketchup dripping from his mouth was oddly humanizing, and felt like a sign that he was comfortable around her.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, talking with his mouth full.

“No,” Wylie lied. “Why?”

“You're fidgeting.”

Wylie quickly sat on her hands, hoping it would help her keep still.

“And you're not eating.” He said it less like an accusation and more like an observation. Wylie tried to respond without sounding judgmental.

“I'm not really into fast food,” she answered.

“I know it's not healthy. But you have to admit, it tastes pretty damn good.”

Phinn picked up a chicken nugget, dipped it into the sweet-and-sour sauce, and waved it an inch from her face.

“Come on, take a little bite. You know you want to,” he said flirtatiously.

“Really, I'm okay.”

“You're totally grossed out right now, aren't you? I don't eat this way all the time. They don't have McDonald's where I'm from, so I try to get it every time I'm in the city. It's kind of a tradition.”

Wylie stared at him, confused.

“Where could you possibly live that doesn't have a McDonald's? They're everywhere.”

“I'm from a very small town.” Phinn brought the chicken nugget even closer to her lips. “Come on, one bite. Please. It would mean a lot to me,” he teased.

Wylie opened her mouth and let him feed her. He was right: it tasted delicious. The bite reminded her brain and her belly that the only drawback to skipping dinner with her parents was that there was no food in her system. So Wylie helped Phinn polish off every last bite of the feast he'd laid out on the table—the fries, the burgers, even the signature apple pies.

As soon as Phinn had eaten his last pie, he wiped his hands on his pants and leaned close to her.

“Wylie.” He spoke her name with such gravity, like he was about to tell her he was dying, and this was his last night on earth.

“Yes?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

It was easily the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to her, even if it was some line he'd used on countless girls before tonight.

“Where do you want me to start?” she asked.

“Tell me about your family.”

Before she could say a word, the fluorescent lights in the restaurant began to flicker, and one of the homeless guys yelled that he wanted a free refill on his soda.

“You want to get out of here? The present company's not exactly conducive to sharing your life story,” Phinn said.

Wylie nodded. Phinn put a hand on the small of her back as they walked through the exit and onto a now-peaceful street in Williamsburg. The cold draft and absence of bright lighting felt like a huge relief once their feet hit the sidewalk.

“All right, start at the beginning,” Phinn said. And so she began by telling him about her parents.

“When my parents were young, my dad was this fancy investment banker and my mom was this crazy artist. They kind of met by accident. He was tagging along with a friend to her going-away party. She was supposed to leave New York to study art in California, but they fell in love and she changed all her plans.”

“She stayed in New York for him?”

“Yup. They had this whirlwind romance and got married after a few months. And instead of having kids, they decided they would travel the world. My mom got knocked up with me in Paris. It was their first trip together. They've never said it outright, but I'm pretty sure I was an accident,” Wylie said, sticking closely to the truth for now.

“A happy accident,” Phinn was quick to add.

“Depends on the day. Anyway, my dad always said my brothers owe their lives to me. I was such a sweet and easy baby, they decided to have more kids. So my mom never went to art school and stayed at home with us instead. My whole life, I've never even seen her pick up a paintbrush.”

“Does she miss it?” Phinn asked.

“I wouldn't know.”

From there, the conversation turned to her brothers.

“They're my best friends,” Wylie explained. “I would
do anything for them. Joshua's the smart one. It's actually a little annoying. He's a year younger, but people always think he's the oldest, just because he's the most responsible. He actually wants to be president someday.”

Phinn let out a small laugh.

“I know it sounds ridiculous coming from most people,” Wylie told him, “but not from Joshua. When he tells people who know him that he's going to run for office, they don't pat him on the head and tell him he's adorable, they say they'll vote for him. He's like a young JFK. And you should meet his girlfriend, Abigail. They've been together since their freshman year in high school and I swear, she'll probably be First Lady someday.”

Wylie was tempted to leave out the entire story about the hit-and-run and the fact that her brother was going to be sentenced tomorrow, but it felt like too big of an omission. And she was glad she'd given Phinn the bullet points, because he admitted to reading something about it online. But when he made more inquiries about what had caused the accident, she didn't tell him that the whole thing was her fault. The only other people who knew that part of the story were her brothers.

The clouds began to roll in and a light mist fell. They sought shelter under the awning of a bus stop. Phinn cleared the trash off the bench and they sat down.

“I met your brother Micah when I got to the party,” Phinn told her. “He seems like the introspective type.”

“He's always been shy, but he's also really talented. I guess he takes after my mom. He loves comic books and he's been working on a graphic novel for a while.”

Wylie left out Micah's therapist visits over the years, all the diagnoses he'd been given, and all the Ritalin and antidepressants he'd consumed. And she didn't breathe a word of that night a couple years ago, when she'd snuck a bottle of whiskey into Micah's room and gotten him drunk while their parents had their worst fight ever. And the fact that since that night, he never left the house without his flask.

“And what about your parents now,” Phinn asked. “Are they happily married?”

Wylie laughed. She debated making up a story about how in love they still were, but there was no way she'd get through it with a straight face.

“They're in the process of getting divorced, which means we're in the process of picking which one we want to live with.”

“So, who's the chosen one?” Phinn asked.

“I'd rather run away from home than live with either one of them. I wish I was old enough to live by myself.”

Wylie made no mention of her dad's affair. It felt wrong to tell Phinn something she'd never had the courage to tell her brothers, especially since she had only found out by accident. She'd gone to her dad's office late one night to surprise him and saw him kissing another woman through the open crack of the door. Wylie had slipped away before they noticed her. She tried not to get lost in the memory.

“What about you? Tell me about your life,” she asked.

“What do you want to know?” Phinn responded.

“I don't know—what's your biggest fear?”

Wylie had been trying to come up with a more interesting question than the old standbys of “Where do you go
to school?” and “What do you do for fun?” but Phinn answered as if he'd expected this exact line of questioning.

“Getting old.”

Wylie nodded. “Yet another thing we have in common.”

Phinn's excitement was infectious as the words poured out of him, and Wylie could relate to almost everything he said. Phinn confessed he would rather die young than grow old, because old people were cynical and bitter and couldn't take care of themselves anymore.

“I've never been all that interested in the confines of convention,” Phinn continued. “High school, college, job, wife, kids, grandkids, nursing home, death. I could live without all of it.”

The buzz of Wylie's phone interrupted their conversation. She checked her texts and found messages from Micah, as well as one from Vanessa, making sure she was okay.
Never been better,
she quickly texted back.

She wanted to stay, but it was getting late and she needed to get back to the party.

“I know that look,” Phinn said. “You're about to break my heart by telling me you have to go.”

“I am,” she responded, and then before she knew the words were coming out, “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can't, Wylie. I was supposed to be home hours ago. But,” he continued, “there's one last thing I want to do with you before I go.”

Wylie waited for him to lean in or pull her face toward him for a kiss, but instead, he reached into his back pocket and took out a small pouch that looked like it had been woven out of reeds. He tilted it, revealing a bundle of tiny royal
blue flowers unlike any she'd ever seen before. Phinn gently took her hand and placed a flower in the center of her palm. Wylie wondered if it was some peculiar parting gift he gave to every female stranger he stumbled across.

“Go ahead. Try it,” he told her.

“What do you mean, ‘try it'?”

“It's edible.”

“There's no way I'm eating this.”

“Don't you trust me?”

“Of course not! I just met you.”

Phinn took another flower out of the pouch and placed it in his mouth. He chewed it slowly, then swallowed.

“That's too bad. I was hoping we could have an adventure together.”

Wylie wasn't about to let all her common sense go out the window just because a cute guy was paying attention to her. The night had been almost perfect, and now he had spoiled it.

“I should go. It was nice to meet you.”

Before she could walk away, Phinn suddenly grew several inches right before her eyes. It took her a while to figure out that his body hadn't expanded, but that he was in fact floating above the bench they'd been sitting on. Phinn slowly drifted all the way to the top of the awning and did a backflip in the air. Wylie's eyes widened.

This could not be happening. And if it was, then Wylie was dreaming. She opened her fist and looked at the tiny blue flower, still in the palm of her hand. Phinn must have slipped something in the sweet-and-sour sauce, because she was definitely hallucinating. She closed her eyes, opened
them, closed them again, opened them again—but he was still there, floating in front of her, until they heard footsteps and voices, and then he quickly floated back down to the bench.

“Now do you trust me?” he asked.

This time Wylie nodded.

As soon as the voices and the footsteps were no longer audible, Wylie chewed the flower. It tasted like mint and honey. Her stomach plummeted as her entire body floated up into the air. Phinn glided back up to her and took her hands. And then suddenly, the two of them shot straight up into the sky like a rocket ship. Wylie screamed her head off. The adrenaline was more intense than any roller coaster she had ever been on. She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to see how high up in the air they were.

“This is scary! I want to go back down!” she shouted in his ear. Phinn squeezed her hands tighter, but they kept going higher and higher.

“You're panicking because you feel out of control,” Phinn told her. “But you're safe with me. I won't let go. The more you fly, the more you'll be in control.”

Wylie nodded, but kept her eyes shut.

“Open your eyes. I promise you won't regret it.”

Wylie's eyes popped open and she let out a small scream, then succumbed to laughter. They were flying high above the Williamsburg Bridge, so high that no one would ever be able to see them.

“Can I show you the rest of the city like this?” Phinn asked.

Wylie was scared to move, but she managed to whisper
her consent. Phinn held her hand the whole time as they whizzed past the Empire State Building and over Central Park. They swooped above the Upper East Side, and Wylie was able to point out their brownstone to him and the fire escape that was her salvation. Seeing the city, the place she had grown up in, from a bird's-eye view was so incredible that Wylie didn't even have time to wonder whether Phinn was a magical elf or an alien or a robot. She felt safe here.

There was only one thing that made her anxiety bubble. Micah and Joshua weren't with her, and it felt wrong to experience this without them.

the after-party

“wylie!”
Micah screamed.

“Where did she say to meet her?” Joshua asked, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“Her text said right here in front of the building. She said it was an emergency.”

“Well, she's not here. She made us leave the party for no reason.”

Wylie observed the rest of their exchange, hovering just a few feet above them. She bit her bottom lip, trying hard not to laugh as her brothers bitched and moaned about their irresponsible older sister, who was always running off and disappearing.

“I'm right here, jerks,” she finally called down. “Look up.”

Joshua and Micah tilted their heads up to the sky and locked eyes with Wylie, floating on her stomach. Phinn did a somersault in the air next to her.

“What the hell?” Joshua said.

“Remember how you wanted to take the scenic route tonight?” Wylie asked Joshua. He slowly nodded. “Well, it doesn't get much more scenic than this. You guys feel like taking flight?”

“This is crazy,” Micah said, lowering himself to the curb. He took a sip from his flask.

“I don't know what kind of joke you're trying to play on us, but it's not funny. Now get down,” Joshua demanded. Wylie knew his tone well. She'd been hearing it a lot recently. Combine one cup of disapproval with a half-cup of indignation and a healthy pinch of pissed-off, and stir.

Phinn grabbed Wylie's hand and slowly brought her back to solid ground. It took her a while to regain her balance, like when she took her ice skates off after gliding in circles at the rink in Central Park. Wylie tried to focus on steadying her legs, but she couldn't ignore the judgment on her brothers' faces. It didn't matter that she'd just defied the laws of gravity in front of them; she'd deserted them at the party.

“I suck,” Phinn said to Joshua and Micah. “I dragged your sister out of the party. And then I scared the crap out of you. The whole ‘flying in midair' thing usually kills. Anyway, we thought you might want to join us.”

His mouth maneuvered into a sweet smile, but Wylie's brothers were immune to his charms. Joshua rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Phinn extended his arm for a handshake. “I probably should have opened with that. My name's Phinn.”

“Do you have a last name?” Joshua asked.

“I do, but if I tell you, you'll have all the ammo you need to make fun of me. And I feel like we've already gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Just tell me what it is.”

“Joshua,” Wylie interrupted. “Back off.”

“It's cool,” Phinn said. “If you have to know, it's . . . Moonlight.”

“Moonlight?” Joshua laughed. “Your last name is
Moonlight
?”

Phinn nodded. “My parents were hippies. I'm as embarrassed about it as you are.”

Wylie noticed that Phinn never stuttered or stumbled over his words, which was no small triumph when confronted by Joshua. In the brief time they'd spent together, he'd never said “um” or “like” between sentences, the way she did.

“Where are you from?” Joshua asked.

“A small town, a few hours from here,” Phinn answered.

“What are you doing in New York?”

“I needed a change of scenery.”

“How did you get our sister to fly?”

“I gave her a
parvaz
.”

“What's a
parvaz
?”

Phinn took the bag of tiny blue flowers out of his pocket and showed it to Joshua and Micah. He told them the plant was natural and homegrown, just like marijuana.

“I've been taking it for a while now, and I haven't noticed any negative side effects, except for some fatigue, drowsiness, and a little joint soreness the morning after. Don't take
my word for it, though,” Phinn said. “Try one. I promise you won't regret it.”

Phinn held out the bag, but Joshua didn't budge.

“I think I'll pass. It was nice to meet you, but my brother and sister and I have to go now.”

“We're not leaving.”

It took Wylie a second to realize who had said it. Micah hardly spoke, and when he did, it was never to disagree—especially with Joshua.

“I want to try one,” Micah continued, “A
parvaz
. And so does Joshua. He's just being too much of a pussy to say it himself.”

Joshua knew better than to shoot down their brother's rare moment of defiance. He held out his palm. Phinn placed a
parvaz
in his hand, then passed another one to Micah and one to Wylie. The Dalton siblings looked at each other in agreement as they all popped the flowers into their mouths at the same time.

Joshua floated slowly at first, then shot up into the air like he was attached to a jet pack. He let out a scream and then, just like his sister had done earlier, evaporated into a fit of giggles. Wylie was the next to take flight. She whizzed by Joshua, then floated in front of him with her phone, poised to take the world's greatest snapshot. Before she could choose the appropriate filter and upload the picture, Phinn quickly shot up into the sky next to her and took the phone out of her hand.

“No pictures.” His tone was kind but stern, and Wylie felt silly for taking her phone out in the first place. Why
couldn't she just enjoy herself without having the compulsion to share everything she did on the Internet? Joshua flew above her and did a series of backflips in the air. Wylie yelped with joy. She had been the cause of so much unnecessary pain; it was nice to be able to provide her brother with some happiness.

“Nothing's happening!” Micah yelled up to them from the street.

“Give it another minute,” Wylie shouted back.

Wylie looked down to where Micah was standing. Aside from her brother, the street was empty. She could still see the last of the party stragglers on the rooftop, but no one seemed to notice them. Wylie stretched her legs in the air. She wanted to fly over the city again and the longer they idled, the sooner the drug would wear off.

“It's not working!” Micah screamed so loud, it sounded like his lungs might explode.

“Can you give him another flower?” Wylie asked Phinn, concerned.

“I don't have any more. Don't worry. I'll help him.”

Wylie watched as Phinn quietly landed on both feet right next to Micah and offered him his hand.

“You just need a little boost. Take my hand,” Phinn said.

Micah firmly stuck his hands in his pockets.

“No. It's weird.”

“Get over it!” Wylie yelled from above.

Phinn grabbed Micah's arm and before he could squirm out of his grip, they were flying circles around Wylie and Joshua.

“I'm going to let you go now,” Phinn told him.

“Please don't!” Micah cried.

“You can trust him,” Wylie assured her brother.

“I'm going to let go and you are going to be fine,” Phinn told him.

Phinn spoke the words with such conviction that Micah slowly relaxed his grasp. When he let go, he was still in the air. He could fly by himself now. He didn't need anyone holding his hand or protecting him. Wylie watched as he soared above them. For once, he looked free from all the fear and anxiety that weighed him down.

“Thank you,” Wylie mouthed to Phinn.

They flew for what felt like hours. Phinn led the way as they circled over all five boroughs. The air was still warm, and the city noises felt like they were on mute. From hundreds of feet in the air, they couldn't hear the horns or fire trucks or the sounds of drunken people crying or singing or fighting. All they had to do to get a clear look at the stars was float on their backs and look up at the night sky, with no tall buildings obstructing their view. Every so often, Phinn would hang back so Wylie could catch up to him. They would fly side by side like they'd done it all their lives.

None of them talked much, mostly because they feared if they acknowledged what was happening, they'd wake up from a dream. They only spoke to point out landmarks and check on each other. When the Daltons were kids on vacation in Montauk, Wylie would take Micah and Joshua on long bike rides. She rode faster than they did and worried they might get hurt or kidnapped if they trailed too far behind. She trained them to periodically yell out her name, so she'd know they were still safely riding behind her. During
the silent stretches, she'd look behind her shoulder, just to be sure they were still there. She did the same thing today as they glided past bridges and high rises and subway lines.

“I will never forget this,” Wylie whispered to Phinn, tugging gently at his collar. He'd given Wylie and her brothers the perfect last night together, and in the short time they'd known each other, he had helped her see the world through a brighter filter.

As they careened above Jamaica Bay, hand in hand, Phinn checked his watch and broke the news that they were dangerously close to the time when the
parvaz
would wear off and all four of them would plummet through the sky. He said he liked to think of the drug's effects as being like a gas tank, and it was better to pull over and fill up before it hit empty. Wylie and her brothers quickly did backflips above the boats to savor their last few seconds of cheating gravity.

Phinn directed them to their destination, and the Dalton siblings held hands and reluctantly followed him back to ground level. It took them some time to regain their equilibriums once they landed. The effects of the tiny blue flower had nearly worn off, but the euphoria stayed with them. All they wanted to do was scream and shout and giggle till they cried. Phinn grinned as he watched his new friends revel in the gift he'd bestowed on them.

“I propose we have a nightcap on my boat to celebrate an epic evening,” he announced.

“Let's do it,” Wylie said, not wanting to give her brothers the chance to turn him down.

Phinn led them to his sailboat, which was much larger
than Wylie had anticipated. It looked a little old and dank, but she was impressed that he knew how to operate a boat.

“Who taught you to sail?” she asked him.

“I taught myself.”

They followed him down the steps, into the cabin, which was clean and spacious, but looked like it hadn't been redecorated since the sixties. The wallpaper was pea green and adorned with oversized daisies. Brown shag carpet covered the floor, and aqua-blue vinyl lined the seats of a small booth. It smelled like mothballs and mildew.

Phinn filled four cups with water.

“It's important to stay hydrated after flying,” he explained.

He passed out the cups, and they each took a long swallow. Micah and Joshua walked off to explore the boat. It was nice to be alone again with Phinn, but Wylie could feel the seconds and minutes slipping away. Soon they would have to say good-bye, and there was no guarantee they would ever see each other again.

“Are you feeling okay?” Phinn asked, concerned.

“I don't want this night to end.” She nearly choked on her words. “I don't want my brother to go to jail.”

Phinn nodded sympathetically. “I know,” he said.

A lightbulb somewhere was buzzing loudly, and the sound, combined with the dim light in the cabin, was making Wylie feel claustrophobic. She moved to reach for a light switch, but her eyes suddenly felt like they weighed a ton. All the flying had made her sleepy.

“If I told you I could take you someplace that would fix all your problems, a place where your brother wouldn't have to go to jail, would you want to go?” Phinn asked.

“Sure. When do we leave?” Wylie heard herself say as she sat down on a vinyl cushion. Phinn placed a blanket around her shoulders.

“Whenever you want.”

“How about now?” she asked groggily.

But before she could hear Phinn's answer, Wylie's eyelids grew heavy and she gave in to sleep.

IT WAS BRIGHT—ALMOST BLINDING. WYLIE OPENED her eyes, but the light was so strong, it burned her pupils. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but her mouth was as dry as sand and her head felt like it was splitting wide open. She hadn't drunk an ounce of alcohol the night before, but she still felt massively hungover. Maybe it was the
parvaz.
As the sunlight pierced her windows, she had no recollection of how she'd gotten home last night.
Open your eyes, Wylie,
she told herself. All she needed was a hot shower, a cup of coffee, and a bowl of cereal, and she'd feel better. After much resistance, she let her eyelids drift open and she reached toward her window to pull her curtains closed.