The walls of Asheville Brewing and Pizza Co. vibrated faintly as a semi truck wandered by, its tires shaking on the crumbling asphalt of Merrimon Avenue. Atlas took another sip of his porter. His friend was late, again, and his stomach was already starting to tighten from the smell of peppers, sausage, and cheese that taunted him from the center of the table.

This would be the last time he talked to any friend of his for three weeks. He'd thought she'd bother to show up on time, but with Leia's spontaneous nature, he should've known. Actually, if she texted him asking to meet at a different bar, fifteen minutes after he already received the pizza he ordered for them, he wouldn't be surprised either.

Atlas had chosen a wooden picnic table on the patio, but he was starting to wonder if that was a good idea as the sun was setting, and he didn't have a jacket on him.

He counted cars to pass the time, waiting for her run-down red Civic to pull in. The sky darkened. Street lamps flicked on one by one, outlining oncoming traffic in pale white light. It wasn't a quiet night. People shouted and car doors slammed, and he heard dogs barking in the distance and the roar of engines down the road.

And then he saw her. He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head.

Finally.

He stood up from the table, jogging across the parking lot to meet her. He probably shouldn't have left his wallet and phone on the table, but he knew he'd be back in just a moment.

Atlas tapped on the glass. Leia looked up, her phone screen illuminating her face. She broke out into a smile, and propped the door open with her boot. "Hi!"

"Hi. You couldn't have had more perfect timing; the pizza just got here," he lied, opening the door for her.

"Oh thank God, I'm starving."

He laughed. "You didn't drive here like it."

"Don't be an ass! Something came up." They walked side by side back to the table he chose. "Why are we sitting outside?"

"It was warmer earlier."

Atlas retook his seat. He dipped his head and muttered a "thanks" beneath his breath before helping himself to a much needed slice. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the salty cheese on his tongue was exactly what he needed right then.

"This is perfect; thank you for paying," Leia said. She was dressed warmer than him at least, with a black windbreaker that covered the tattoo on her wrist. "I can't believe you get to go to Alaska. I'm jealous."

"You can go instead. I hate the cold! It's spring but I bet I'll be trudging through snow up there." Atlas shivered at the thought. He would have to gather and compare GPS coordinates up in the north for three weeks.

She laughed. "Oh gosh no. You can have all that snow to yourself. Do you need to shop after this? The mall doesn't close until 10, I think."

"I'll figure something out later." He knew he should've taken the offer, but where in Asheville would he find quality winter clothes with summer around the corner in just a few months? He downed the last of his porter, pushing the empty glass to the edge of the table. Exhaling, he grabbed another slice.

Did Alaska even have restaurants? He contemplated the thought as he unknowingly ate an entire half of the pizza as they chatted idly. He had never left North Carolina before, and he knew with his light southern accent everyone he met up there would know it immediately.

All he had ever seen were TV shows of people living on an acreage, surrounded by farm animals, living day to day with the food that they harvested and killed themselves.

He suppressed a groan. There better be restaurants. He was NOT hunting down antelope or whatever lived up there to eat, not after eight or ten hours of tracking coordinates. Hell, he didn't even know HOW to hunt, much less skin an animal and cook it, and he sure didn't want to learn how. His stomach churned at the thought.

Atlas reached for his phone—surely Google would know—only to pat nothing but wood. He glanced around the table, and then patted his back pockets.

Where were his wallet and phone?

It couldn't have been stolen, right? He was gone only for a second! He glanced up at the patio overhang, but saw no exterior cameras. Crap. "Am I going crazy?"

Leia glanced up from her phone. "What's wrong?"

"Do you see my phone?" he asked.

"You probably just left it in the bathroom," she said, returning to her text. "Jonathan's going to come join us. He's dropping his daughter off first."

"I haven't used it yet," he muttered to himself. He checked under the table and even asked the waiter, but found nothing. "Can you call it?"

"What?"

"My phone."

"Oh, yeah, sure. One second."

He waited for the tone to play, a slight wince on his face when he realized how embarrassingly nerdy it was to have the Game of Thrones theme as his ringtone. A part of him was almost thankful when he heard nothing but chatting families and laughing coworkers.

His father was supposed to call him, too. He probably already called and thought Atlas ignored him. And Atlas had even withdrawn cash for the first time to take with him on the work trip.

Great. He wanted to bang his head on the table. Could the night get more annoying? He stopped that thought before it even finished, because he knew firsthand how annoying life could get in just moments.

"You sure it's not in the bathroom?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "What does someone do when they lose their wallet and phone?" He glanced over the last two slices of pizza at her face.

Leia finally put down her phone. "Your wallet's gone too? Stollen?"

"I don't know."

"Call the police if it is, right?"

"I don't know."

She slid her phone across the table to him. "At least call the bank and turn off your credit cards! You can use my phone."

"Thanks. Can I call my dad too?"

"Yeah. Jonathan will be here any moment."

"Okay. I'll be back."

Atlas stood up from the table, walking up the sloped parking lot to where his car was in the back. A breeze blew through, cutting straight through his flannel and making him shiver. At least he had his car keys. He unlocked the car and slumped into the driver seat, resting his heels on the rocker panel.

First things first, he called his father. The phone rang for a very quiet moment, the sounds of the restaurant distant enough that now all he heard was the gentle wind and the distant passing of cars.

"Hey Leia," his father's voice soon picked up. He continued before Atlas could say anything. "I actually can't talk right now; is it important?"

Atlas' brow furrowed. "Actually, this is Atlas," he said. "I lost my phone. I wasn't sure if you called already."

"Oh! Oh." His father was quiet for a moment, his voice laced with something concerning. "Sorry, I haven't called you yet. I'm actually with grandma Georgie right now. I'm driving, so I can't talk long."

"Is everything okay?"

"Are you out with friends now? I mean, of course you are, you're on Leia's phone." He laughed. "I hope you have a good time. Do you want me to call her phone once I have a moment?"

"Yeah, that would be great. Are you sure everything's okay? You seem flustered." He knew his father well enough—he was usually a patient man—and he knew when he was hiding something. "Is grandma okay?"

"Everything's going to be great," he reassured. "We had an incident back at home, and I'm taking her to the doctor, but she's fine."

Yeah. That didn't do anything to help him feel better. Immediately, his worries about his phone and wallet were gone, replaced by a twisting anxiety that quickly took root. "It's nine at night? I can leave now. I can meet you there. Are you going to Mission? I can be there in ten."

"No, no, have fun with your friends tonight. I'm sorry I couldn't say a real goodbye before your trip! I have to go; I'm turning off of the highway now. Love you."

Atlas swallowed. "Love you too." His father shortly hung up, and Atlas was left with a bitter taste in the back of his mouth and a churn in his stomach that wasn't from overeating.

If his father thought he'd just ignore the family, he was wrong. Atlas knew when he was lying.

He dropped the keys in the ignition and turned his headlights on, slamming the driver side door shut. Paranoia managed to slip into his mind as he backed out. He remembered watching his mother collapse to the floor that day, and he sped past the picnic table Leia was at before the memory could take hold and steal the breath from his lungs.

He heard Leia shout, "Atlas! Asshole, you have my phone! Where are you going?"

He didn't bother stopping or rolling down his window as he turned onto Merrimon, taking the fastest route he knew to the hospital. He'd make sure to return it before he got to the airport at 4am. She could wait.

~

Atlas had been to the hospital many times before with his mother, so he knew exactly where to turn and where to park to get into the emergency entrance. It only took him a couple of minutes to hunt down his father who sat in the waiting lobby with a hand tapping a chord on his knee and the other holding his chin up. His chin was scruffy and his grey eyes staring at nothing, blonde hair tied up behind him in a similar bun to what Atlas himself wore then.

"Dad," he called out, dropping into the vacant seat beside him.

His father flinched. "I told you you didn't need to come—why aren't you with your friends?"

"Is she really okay?" He leaned forward, pressing his forearms against his jeans. A look into his father's face told him his answer, but once more all he heard was a false generalization about her health.

"She's okay."

Atlas tilted his head, giving his father a flat stare. "You know you can tell me."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I know. I didn't want you to worry."

"I know."

"Your grandma got a headache and fell down the stairs when she was doing laundry," his father finally said. "The doctor said he would let me up into the room with her in a minute, so it couldn't have been too bad."

Atlas lowered his head, clasping his hands together. He hated the strong scent of antiseptics and the low energy staff. He hated being here, because it always made him think the worst. Usually, he thought of himself similar to his father, rather calm and friendly, wanting the best for other people, but he couldn't be that person within the white walls and high ceilings of the hospital.

Twenty minutes passed before they were invited up into the room. They travelled up one of the elevators and followed the work pace of the nurse, Atlas briefly asking how he was doing. Only a minute of small talk passed before they arrived in the room, and found grandma Georgie laying back on the hospital bed.

The visit was over in a flash, and an overwhelmed Atlas found himself sitting back in his 2006 GTI with his face warm and his eyes drooping, opening his friend's phone and texting Jonathan.

Hey. Sorry. I had to meet my dad at the hospital. Everything's okay. I can drop Leia's phone off whenever tonight. Let me know where.

He rested back up against the headrest, releasing a well-needed breath. Slowly, his muscles relaxed, and he opened his eyes to the bright parking lights casting stark shadows along the pavement. The emergency sign blared red, reflecting off of the hood of his hatchback.

Everything wasn't okay. His father was lying.

Atlas sighed again as her phone vibrated in his hands. He didn't have the energy to lift it up anymore.

Grandma Georgie broke her hip and shoulder, and suffered a concussion. She was hardly conscious when he had entered the room, and the doctor said she would need surgery. He tried to wet his mouth. His father didn't have the money for the co-payment, even if he worked full time for the next year. They had insurance, but only the bare minimum.

He must have sat there for twenty minutes before the phone vibrated again, the screen lighting up.

Atlas groaned, shifting in the driver's seat. He responded to Jonathan's texts.

I'll be there shortly.

Alright. He needed to get moving. A glance at the dash clock told him it was already after eleven at night, and it looked like Leia returned home to have a bon fire with some other friends. A thirty minute drive to drop off her phone, and then another fifteen back to his apartment. And he still hadn't gotten a winter coat for the trip.

It looked like tonight wasn't going to be his worst one. Why did his project manager have to decide on Alaska, of all states?

Atlas pulled into Leia's sketchy driveway, his fender slamming into a pothole he didn't see in time to react to. His tires skidded on some mud before he finally pulled up beside her Civic. He hit that hole every time he went to her house. She literally had the crappiest driveway in all of Candler, a town to the west of Asheville.

"You really need to fill that in," he heard Jonathan say as he near-crawled out of his GTI, exhaustion wearing heavy on his limbs now. Their bonfire was barely crackling to life, small wisps of smoke traveling up through the hemlocks reaching over her fence.

"You better have my phone!" Leia shouted, her voice slurred. She pointed a mean finger at him, swaying on her feet as she did so. "I'll never let you use it again after that!"

He pulled it out of his back pocket and handed it to her like someone would a knife. "I'm sorry." She smelled like beer, a smell that made him crave the warmth of alcohol after everything, but also made him put distance between them. He had to drive still. Hopefully Jonathan had driven her home; he'd be horrified if she'd gotten herself back here.

"Everything's good with your father?" Jonathan asked casually from where he squatted by the firepit, tossing some shredded bark on top and poking it into his log cabin style campfire.

"Yeah. It was my grandma. She fell down the stairs. She'll be okay though."

"I'm sorry to hear that—"

Leia latched onto Atlas' arm. "We found your phone!"

He tried not to withdraw from her touch. "Really?"

"Some kid grabbed it when his parents were leaving. They drove aaaallll the way back to give it to you, but you were gone." She laughed then.

"Do you have it?"

Jonathan gestured to the porch table. "Over there."

Atlas sighed in relief. At least that turned out for the better. He grabbed his stuff and told his friends from college that he was heading out again.

After ten minutes of convincing Leia that he couldn't stay, he finally made his way home. He had three hours to pack and sleep by the time he closed the door to his apartment.

Wonderful. He couldn't wait.