I always assumed that phone booths were a thing of the past. Apparently, not all of them. Near the edge of town, I huddle inside the small phone booth just outside the old abandoned mall, not daring to use my cell. It only takes Henry three rings to pick up.
“Hello?” His voice is less groggy than I expect. My parents must have called already.
“Henry?”
“Advika!”
I tell him everything. About the news of the move. About my outburst. About my need for people like me. I don’t know if I had planned on telling it all before, but by now I couldn’t have kept it in if I wanted to. When I finish, there is a long pause on Henry’s side.
“I… I need a favor.”
My quarters don’t last long. For a while, I sit in a corner of the deserted parking garage, protected from the rain. When the downpour finally passes, I slowly make my way up to the top level, not even bothering to shift back into my homeless persona in the echoey structure. The sunrise is almost anticlimactic when it comes, barely more than a thin streak of color fighting against a sea of dark clouds. As I look at it, I can’t help but think of the sunsets back at camp. How they always filled the sky.
I see Henry before he sees me. He’s on his bike, a better way to travel than my long walk earlier that night, and it only takes a glance to know he came alone. As I rush back down to the ground level, we reach the entrance right at the same time, and for once, there is nothing awkward about how hard we hug.
“I’m so glad you came,” I murmur, sniffing once as I pull away. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
Forcing a smile, he pushes up his aviators. “That makes two of us.”
Smiling back, I move to help take his bike into the garage. Then I freeze. “Henry… where is your backpack?”
The smile is gone in an instant. “I… didn’t bring it.”
I stare at him, uncomprehendingly. “But… but then why did you come? The whole reason I asked you was to bring more supplies.”
“Because… I want you to go home.”
I laugh, but it comes out more like a scoff. “Really, Henry? You say you’ll help and you come all the way out here to–what–try and catch me off guard?”
“It’s not about catching you,” he replies, sighing. “It’s about convincing you. This plan is never going to work. You can’t just hide out with friends on another base and hope no one notices you.”
“I know that,” I reply, my face hard. “Which is why I’m not just hiding out somewhere. I’m… I’m joining the military.”
“Joining?”
“I’ve thought it through,” I continue, not giving him a chance to go on. “As long as I stay short, I can shift to look old enough to sign up, and once I’m deployed, I’ll be surrounded all the time by people like me.”
“Advika, you can’t be serious!” He stares at me, his eyes wide. “What about combat? What about training, have you thought about that?”
“I know enough to get by.”
“It’s not about getting by,” he insists, his voice rising. “It’s about throwing your life away!”
“Well, maybe I don’t see it as throwing it away!” I don’t notice I’m shouting until the echo roars back at me. For a moment, we stand in silence.
“What about an ID?” he asks at last.
“I’ll make something work.”
“What about money?”
“I’ll make something work,” I repeat, my throat constricting. “I’ll shift to grab some supplies along the way if you won’t bring me any.”
“You mean you’ll steal,” says Henry, his tone cold. “Since when is Advika Washington willing to use her abilities to hurt people?”
“It isn’t about hurting people,” I reply, my voice tight. “This isn’t about other people.”
“Oh of course, I forgot. So me, and your parents, and everyone else that you are about to devastate can go wallow away so that you can be happy.” I don’t respond. I can’t. Sighing, he shakes his head. “The Advika I know,” says Henry at last, his voice quiet, “doesn’t shy away from a challenge. She’s unique… she’s amazing… and she knows the price that comes with that, but she never backs down. It’s why people like her so much. It’s why… I like her so much.”
As my throat tightens, I can feel my features beginning to shift in and out again, but there is no stopping them. Pursing my lips, I look away. “I’m scared,” I manage at last, my voice shaking. “I can’t do this again. I can’t go through all of this again. If I do, then what was the point of this? I can’t just start somewhere new and pretend like everything is fine, like nothing here mattered when it did. And even if I did… if I went and I tried it all again…” Breaking off, I turn to look at him, feeling the wet streaks hot on my cheeks. “I can’t lose you, too.”
His face contorting, he steps forward and wraps his arms around me, smiling a little shakily as I leave wet marks on his shoulder. “Then don’t.”
***
There’s nothing like a sunset. The open, flaming sky can scorch your heart, marking you forever. But, with time, I think one can learn to love the sunrises, too. Even when they’re only just visible through the clouds.
Three months later, I am in a new room, in a new school uniform, with the same old moving boxes stacked across the floor. The walls are bare, but I know how to fill them. Mac has already claimed his own spot on the foot of the bed. An upgrade, for him at least.
Downstairs, I can hear mom making breakfast, intent on shoving as much Indian goodness into me as possible before driving me to my first day. Even dad has delayed his first meeting to see me off. Yet even so, I can’t go down. Not yet.
From my nightstand, my phone pings loudly. I don’t even need to read the name to know who the message is from.
You got this, girl :).
Smiling, I lay it down gently, staring at it for a long moment. At last, taking a deep breath, I turn back towards the mirror. Only one thing left to do. Closing my eyes, I relax my body, feeling the familiar sensation sweep over me. When I finally open them, a very different face stares back at me.
I’m average height, if a little on the shorter side, with wide shoulders on an otherwise thin frame. My black hair, long and wavy, falls back in heavy locks against my upper back. There’s nothing startlingly beautiful about me, nothing to set me apart, except for my eyes. For the first time in a decade, rather than seeming out of place, they shine out, dark and knowing against my face’s rich, brown skin. My skin.
Later that morning, when the teacher asks me how to pronounce my name, I smile ever so slightly.
“Advika.”
The End