I pace the hallway for the five hundredth time. I don't have the faintest idea of where to start looking for Nate. Should I call the police? I don't want to unless I have to. I try to stay out of Uncle Sam's way as much as a I possibly can.

The phone quickly snaps me out of my reverie. I pick up it up at the fourth ring and answer with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Hey Victor, it's Mark. From the 'hardware store'," he adds when I don't respond.

"Oh, yes! Mark, h-how are you?" I can hardly keep the stutter out of my voice. The worry I have for Nate is quickly catching up with me.

"I'm fine. I was just calling to tell you that Nate just paid me a visit."

"He did?" I exclaim with a little too much vigor. I take it down a notch for my next question. "What did he ask for?"

"He wanted an ID, but get this. He wanted to pass himself off as 21 not 18. Can you imagine? Little Nate, 21 years old. Although, I guess he's going to be 18 next year. God, time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." I take a deep breath. "Did he say where he was headed?"

"He said something about the airport. Did you not send him?"

"Uh... no."

"No?"

"We had a sort of... falling out."

"Really? I didn't think anything could seperate you two."

"I'm chasing after him, don't worry. I guess I'm headed to the airport then."

"Go get him, Victor."

"Thanks Mark." I hang up quickly and proceed to throw a few pairs of clothing into my duffle bag. Airports tend to mean travel.

I swing the door open to run to the car. If I move fast enough, I might be able to catch him before his plane-

"Dammit, Nate!" I yell at the empty parking spot. He stole my car! I'll have to call a taxi.

Half an hour later, I find myself impatiently sitting in a cab. I can't sit still. Maybe Nate rubbed off on me more than I had originally thought. I scoot forward on my seat to tap the cabbie on the shoulder. "Uh, could you possibly go any faster? I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Sir, I'm going the speed limit. I'm not allowed to break the law."

"I'll pay you extra."

He pauses, then presses the gas petal further.

I smile and lean back. Money makes the world go 'round. It never fails.

I'm dropped off at the departure terminal. It's only then I realize it won't do me any good. I have no idea which flight Nate would have taken. It breaks my heart to know that Nate could be literally be anywhere. Looking at the departure schedule, I see Paris, London, Rome... It honestly wouldn't surprise me to find that Nate has somehow made his way to the moon. He's weird like that.

Wait a second, my inner voice of reason chimes in. Nate doesn't have nearly enough money for a plane ticket. Not if he wants to keep enough money to pay for food and a roof. I spin around and scan the lobby for... There!

I tap the bell at the desk. When there's no response, I tap it three more times in rapid succession. "All right, all right, I'm coming," grumbles an employee from the back room. "What is it with you people tonight? How am I supposed to get any sleep?"

"Did a young man come by here recently? About this tall with a shaggy, brown mop of hair?"

"...Yes."

"Did you rent him a car?"

"Yes, although I'm still not convinced he was 21."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

"A-Are you sure?"

"No, it's not my business to discuss travel plans with customers."

I clench my fists at my side to keep myself from lunging across the desk and grabbing him by the collar. It's not his fault he can't read Nate's mind. "Okay, thank you."

A tourturous twenty minutes later, I'm still sitting on the hard bench outside the terminal with no clue as to where Nate's gone. With a plane, I could at least know his general destination. He could have driven anywhere. I rake another frustrated hand through my hair and lift my head. My eyes widen as they land on... "Nate, you son of a bitch."

I quickly make my way to my car, surprised to find the doors left open and the keys in the glove box. I guess Nate never intended on stealing the car. I lean my head back onto my head rest. "Stupid kid... What have you gotten yourself into?" I sigh and turn the engine on. I might as well go home to start calling around about Nate. I've never been more relieved to have so many friends around the world. Well, "friends" is a loose term...

The AC turns on with the car, turned up full blast. There's a weird fluttering sound coming from on of the vents. Frowning, I pluck a stray scrap of paper from the plastic slats. It looks like it was torn from Nate's notebook. My heart leaps at the prospect of a clue leading to his location. It has two addresses: the airport and-

"Sam?!"