Jameson bursts out laughing. “You . . . with no money?”
“You kill me.” Tristan laughs. “You spend more money than that in a day.”
“What job are you going to do?” Elliot stammers. His eyes are wide as he waits for my answer. I can almost see his anxiety rising.
“Well.” I shrug casually as if this isn’t the scariest thing I have ever done. “I don’t know yet. Something will turn up. I’ll work it out as I go.”
“No,” Elliot snaps. “No way in hell. You need a plan. Mileses don’t work it out as we go. You’ll turn up dead somewhere. I’m not having you out there alone in the world. There are some bad fuckers out there.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“This is stupid,” Jameson warns. “And not to mention dangerous.”
“I’ve thought long and hard about this all week, and I know that it’s something that I have to do. If I back out now, I know I’m going to regret it.” I shrug. “I mean . . . how bad can it be?”
“Bad,” Elliot snaps. “Real bad. Coming-home-in-a-body-bag bad.”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you so fucking dramatic?”
“This is dramatic,” Tristan snaps. “Can’t you just get a fucking girlfriend like a normal person?”
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” I add.
“What?” Tristan snaps. “How the fuck do you think they won’t notice you missing for a year?”
“I’m going to tell them that I’m doing a course in France. I’ll call them all the time, and I’ll go back to Paris from Spain to meet them for a few days if they decide to visit.”
“Spain?”
“I’m starting in Spain.”
“Why Spain?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I like paella, I guess.”
“Oh, fuck me dead.” Jameson pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t go backpacking for fucking paella, Christopher. There’s a kick-ass Spanish restaurant here in London somewhere, I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll call you all every day if you want?” I put my hands onto my hips. “But I am going. You can’t stop me.”
They stay silent.
“And I’ll let you know wherever I’m going in case shit goes south,” I add.
“You’re taking a guard,” Jameson snaps.
“I am not taking a fucking security guard.”
“Why not?”
“Because it defeats the purpose.”
“Is the purpose to get yourself killed?” Elliot gasps.
“Look.” I try to calm him. I know that he’s the one who will have the hardest time with this. “It’s fine. This week you can help me, and we’ll get ready so that I’m prepared for everything.”
He stares at me, and I can almost hear his brain misfiring as it freaks out.
“When do you leave?” Jameson asks.
“Next Saturday.”
“That soon?”
They all fall silent as they process.
“Well . . .” Tristan slaps me on the back. “It was nice knowing you, brother.”
Finger Lakes district, Orange County Harrington Angus Cattle Station