Celia raised an eyebrow as Max explained his plan, which was not at all what she'd been expecting. "Don't you have family here?" she asked, suddenly realizing that she knew practically nothing about him. When she'd asked if he wanted to join her, she'd assumed that the rest of his family was still in the U.S., his grandparents or an uncle or something. Relying on a friend to take him in sounded fairly risky. Then again, if he'd agreed to come, then surely he had something figured out.
She nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about it. He travels a lot for work, so he's always got free miles," she said dismissively. Back before her family had imploded, her parents were always tossing around potential vacation destinations to use up their miles. Her family's financial situation was secure enough that two domestic plane tickets would barely even register. Besides, it wasn't exactly like her dad could say no once she called and explained her situation.
Given Max's answer to her next question, Celia was starting to wonder if maybe he'd need her dad to provide more than just a plane ticket. It sounded like he didn't have a plan... at all. "Right, you're a snowboarder. How could I forget," she deadpanned, defaulting to sarcasm to mask her apprehension about the whole situation. "Yeah, I will. Give me a sec, I need to borrow someone's phone." They were coming across a vaguely familiar street corner, one she recognized from her last trip to D.C. "Wait here, I'm going to go inside," she said, gesturing towards a bench outside a cafe before heading inside. She didn't particularly care if Max followed, but she did want some privacy and she wasn't sure she could make the call in front of Max.
It didn't take long before she found a suitable target. An elderly woman was sitting near the windows, reading that day's newspaper, her phone lying on the table next to her. Celia approached her, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Excuse me, hi! I'm really sorry to bother you, but could I borrow your phone? I need to call my dad. He's supposed to pick me up soon, but my phone's dead," she held up her phone with a helpless look. "I can stand right over there while I make the call, shouldn't take long," she pointed towards a corner of the cafe.
For one very long moment, Celia thought the woman would refuse, but then she smiled. "Of course, dear. Take as long as you need." She unlocked the phone and handed it over with a smile.
Celia marveled at how easy that had been and gave the woman a grateful smile. "Thank you!" Hopefully the next part would be just as easy. She took the phone and walked over to the corner, which turned out to be a pointless gesture as the woman had turned back to her paper and wouldn't have noticed if she'd decided to leave the cafe with it. Celia quickly dialed her dad's work and held up the phone, butterflies building in her stomach.
If her dad's secretary was surprised to hear her voice, she didn't say anything. And soon Celia was transferred over.
"Dad, hi!" she said, trying to sound as breezy as possible in case anyone was listening.
"Who is this?"
She frowned slightly but reminded herself that he was probably operating under the assumption that she did not have access to a phone. "It's me, Celia. I'm borrowing someone else's phone."
"Celia?"
"Yeah, I, uh..." It occurred to her that she'd planned just about everything except what she would say during this phone call. "I... I'm in D.C. And I—"
"D.C.? Washington, D.C.? What? You're supposed to be at that magic school, Hog- Hog- you know what I'm talking about. Washington, D.C.? Where's your mother?"
He'd forgotten the name of her school. Something in her heart tightened. "She's not here." Celia glanced back at the woman, but she had not looked up from her paper. In fact, no one in the busy cafe seemed to pay her much attention. Still, she lowered her voice. "I, um, I'm on a field trip. There was a school trip to the Smithsonian and um..." She winced, aware of how uncertain she sounded, how many uhs and ums had filled her speech, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She took a deep breath. "Dad, I need to come home. I really missed you, and I can't stay at Hogwarts. I need to go back to a real school or transfer to Ilvermorny."
There was a long pause, and Celia glanced at the screen to make sure the call was still going. The seconds ticked by, and before she was even aware of what she was doing, the words came gushing out. "Dad, did you hear me? I have to go home. Hogwarts is horrible, absolutely horrible. There aren't even real dorms. I live in a dungeon. And it's so unsanitary. They've crammed a dozen girls in the same room, and it's damp and dark, and I'm sure there's mold—"
"Celia"
"—and the school, it's a joke. They don't teach anything important. There's an Astronomy class, and do you know what they cover as part of the second year curriculum? The solar system. That's second grade stuff. History is just a bunch of made up stories. And—"
"Celia!"
She flinched.
"Where is your teacher?"
How was this going so wrong? He was... he was supposed to tell her that he'd missed her, that he loved her, rejoice at hearing her voice again. He was supposed to immediately offer to fly her home, enroll her in Ilvermorny or her old school, promise she'd never have to go away again.
Celia took another deep breath. She needed to focus and clearly explain why she couldn't go back, why she'd left. She needed to make him understand that there was no future there. "Dad, I came home. I left Hogwarts. I tried writing you. I wrote you so many letters. I know Mom has stopped you from writing me letters—"
"Your mother didn't—"
She forged ahead. She had to get it out now or he would get sidetracked. "—but that doesn't matter now. I'm back here, and we can talk about it tonight when I'm home. I just need you to get me and my friend plane tickets out of D.C. I know transferring schools mid-semester might sound like a big deal, but I've got all this planned out. I've been self-studying all semester, so I won't be behind."
"Celia— I— Wait, what do you mean your friend?"
She'd anticipated a little annoyance at the idea of buying an extra plane ticket, but the tone of his voice was something else entirely. It wasn't unfamiliar, but she'd never heard it directed at her. "One of my classmates came with me. He's from Oregon and wanted to go home," as she explained it, she started to realize just how ridiculous her idea had been.
"Do you mean to tell me that you and a classmate just ran away from a school field trip?" The anger in his voice seemed to reach right through the phone, holding her in place. "I don't know what you were thinking, but you need to go back to your teacher right now and put me on the phone with her."
"I... I can't. They're back at Hogwarts." She could barely hear her voice through the sound of her heart thudding in her ears. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. Her mind was suddenly blank, all the arguments she'd meticulously planned out about why she couldn't stay at Hogwarts forgotten. "Don't make me go back," she pleaded, acutely aware of how pathetic she sounded. "I want to live with you." Don't you want me to live with you too? "I can't go back."
"You're not leaving Hogwarts!" She flinched again. He'd snapped at her. Actually snapped at her. That never happened. "Look, I'm sorry about that. But I don't care how terrible you think that place is, your mother and I both agreed it's the best place for you. I can't watch over you here," He gave an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, Celia! Running away? How could you be so immature? That was incredibly reckless—"
The phone beeped, and Celia glanced down, surprised to see that she'd ended the call. But still, her dad's words ran through her mind. Suddenly, the cafe was too small. There were too many people, all of them witness to her future shattering right before her eyes. Her body kicked into autopilot, and Celia moved towards the woman, depositing the phone on her table with a mumbled thanks before launching herself at the door, desperate for some air. She just needed to get away, to be alone.
Her vision blurred, and she pressed the back of her hand to her eyes, willing herself not to come undone, at least not here, not while she was so exposed. Celia blindly turned the corner, barely dodging some passersby, and found herself in a small alleyway behind the cafe. It was dirty, but at least there were no people here. She squeezed her eyes shut. Calm down. Breathe. Think. You need to figure out your next move. But even as she issued herself these commands, she could hear her father's voice echoing all around her.
