Hello (From Here) by Chandler Baker & Wesley King

Hello (From Here) by Chandler Baker & Wesley King

Author:Chandler Baker & Wesley King
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2021-09-07T00:00:00+00:00


* * *

• • •

Max is lying on her bed, hair splashed out over the pillow. “So you sent an email?”

“Two, to be precise,” I confirm. She is pointing the phone down at herself, and I am pretty much in the exact same pose in my own bed . . . and it’s not impossible to imagine we’re in the same place. “The first one got a little . . . off track at the end. Still nothing on Arlo?”

She sighs. “Not yet. Hospitals won’t give you information if you’re not family.”

“What about an emergency contact? He must have had someone? Some friends?”

“He never mentioned anyone. I know he was an only child. And his parents would have been long gone. Plus, Arlo’s got to be in his eighties by now, right?”

“Eighty-four and a half,” I recite. “It’s on his IMDB page.”

“So . . . he might not have a lot of friends . . . left,” she continues. “But, okay, I mean, it’s probably not even COVID. What are the odds of that even happening?”

I say nothing because I’m pretty sure probably pretty good is not what she wants to hear.

“He could have tripped on the last step and broken an ankle.” She’s thinking out loud. She’s spinning. I get it. “That would be rough, but fixable. Or . . . food poisoning. Food poisoning is a serious thing, right?”

“Right,” I say. Because boyfriends are supposed to be supportive and I want to be a good boyfriend. “How about this? I’ll call tomorrow. I’m getting good at this whole tracking people down thing.”

“Must be a family talent,” Max says dryly.

“I’ll pretend I’m his grandson. Marlo.”

“Marlo?”

“It’s too weird to question. They would just be like, That rhymes with Arlo! Let me patch you right through.”

Max rolls onto her side and brings me with her, curling up under the blanket. The phone is less than a foot away from her face. As always, a loose strand of hair trails down her cheek, past those bright green eyes. “I’ve been thinking about Chester,” she says. “I stopped by twice today to look in the front window, but I didn’t see anything. I knocked and Chester didn’t come running to the door. That means . . . it means he must not be there. Right? Maybe Arlo has a mystery friend we don’t know about who’s watching him . . . But what if he doesn’t? The next-door neighbor didn’t have any news. What if we’re the only two people who know? I just keep thinking about Chester in there without food or water.”

I feel a pang of worry. But I don’t want to add to her concerns. “I’m sure he’s fine. Arlo probably broke his ankle or something and called a friend to watch Chester. He’ll be home any day now and you’ll get an order for foie gras and baby carrots and you can ask him yourself.”

“I hope so. Thanks for caring about this. I know it’s not the most romantic thing.



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