Akira took a deep breath before starting the car. She was not at all sure how she felt about this, but apparently she was going to move to Florida. She couldn’t suppress a little glow of joy when she thought about the beautiful labs she’d seen. Even her uncertainty about why exactly she’d been hired couldn’t dim her delight at the idea of uninterrupted time to do nothing but explore her ideas.
“You look happy,” the boy in the back seat said. “Maybe you did win the lottery.”
Akira didn’t respond, but her happiness dimmed a little.
“I wonder who you saw in there. Let’s see. Maybe I can figure out what you do. Maybe you were selling something? No. Maybe you’re a librarian? No.” The boy gloomily sank back into his seat and said, “This game’s not much fun when I’ll never know.”
He looked out the window, and sighed. “Twenty-five minutes to the airport and then back to the parking lot.”
Akira bit her lip. “So, what’s your name?”
The boy’s eyes widened and he leaned forward again. “You can see me!”
“Yeah, but don’t get all excited about it.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t spoken to anyone in months. I’m trapped in this car. I mostly sit in a parking lot. And you’re living!”
“Again, don’t get all excited.” Akira knew exactly how this was going to go, and it wasn’t going to be fun. She probably should have just kept pretending she didn’t see him. But he’d looked so sad and she’d been so happy. She hadn’t been able to stay cold to him.
“So, do you help me? Like, find a light or something?”
“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Her voice was dry. “No, unfortunately, I don’t know anything about lights. And if you want me to go talk to any relatives—well, it never ends well. I’d really rather not.”
“But isn’t that what you do?”
“No, that’s just how it works on television.” Akira sighed and flipped her blinker on. The guard shack was just ahead, and she didn’t want to be seen talking to herself.
“But . . . but you can see me!” She glanced back at him in the rear view mirror. Yes, she could see him, and he was quite a charmer, really. He must have been about fourteen or fifteen when he died, tall and gawky in that adolescent way, all arms and legs, with a shock of curly dark hair and intense blue eyes.
She pulled out onto the busy street, and with the guard safely behind her, asked again, “Do you have a name?”
“It’s Dillon. You mean you really can’t help me?”
She shook her head. “Not so much, no.”
“Man, that bites.” He flopped back against the seat again, looking disgusted. “I finally find someone who can see me, and she’s useless. Um, no offense.”
Akira bit back her smile. She didn’t mind useless, actually. She’d heard worse. “I can listen,” she offered. “And I know a little.”
“Do you know why I’m stuck?” he asked. “I mean this can’t happen to everyone. I met a guy at a gas station once, but it’s not like the roads are crowded with us.”
“Oh, there’s a fair number of you on the highways, actually. It used to be quite a nightmare for me when I was first learning how to drive. I kept getting distracted. My dad would . . . never mind.” She shook that thought away.
She glanced at her watch. “I don’t have to be at that airport for the trip back to Orlando for about five hours. Where do you want to go?”
“You’re serious?” he asked.
She nodded. “But no relatives, please.” She looked pained. “Honestly, it never works out well.”