Chapter One #2
I practically dove down the concourse, dragging my suitcase along.
Amazingly enough, there were hardly any people at all in the rental area, and I grinned as I approached the first counter.
I wouldn’t even have to wait! This was clearly an amazing plan, and perhaps even an Act of God. It was meant to be.
NO VEHICLES AVAILABLE
I blinked at the sign. Okay, next counter. My heart sank a little when I saw a sold-out sign there too. Onto the next. And the next.
And the next.
Of course there were no lines. There were no damn cars left. I kept going just in case, but each rental company I passed was out of vehicles.
As I approached the last one—one of those cheap car places stuck in the back corner—my feet dragged and my shoulders slumped. For all of fifteen minutes, I’d thought Christmas and my promise to my sister could be saved.
As I neared Expedition Car Rental, my heart skipped a beat. I peered closer, scanning the area. There was no sign. There was no sign! In a burst of excitement I raced the rest of the way, barreling into the counter. The young woman behind it jerked her head up from her computer.
“Hi! Sorry to startle you. I need a car. Do you have a car?” I forced myself to take a calming breath and read her name tag.
“Sorry, Sook-Yin. I really need a car.” I smiled what I hoped was my most charming smile, because I didn’t need Sook-Yin refusing my patronage on suspicion of me being on crack or meth or huffing the nitrous oxide from whipped cream bottles.
She tilted her head and gave me a regretful closed-lip smile. “I’m so sorry. I just rented our last vehicle.”
Panic and disappointment combined to make my mouth dry and chest tight. “Please. You have to have another one. I’m begging you. I will get down on my knees. I’ll pay extra. I’ll pay whatever you want. Please. I need a car. Or truck. SUV. Minivan. Motorcycle. Anything with wheels and an engine.”
“I’m very sorry.”
I dropped my head to the counter with a dull thunk. “I can’t believe this is happening. Please let me wake up in my dorm and realize this nightmare was just my subconscious being a bag of dicks as usual.”
Sook-Yin made a sound that might have been a stifled laugh, but her tone was sympathetic. “I really am sorry. Hold on, let me check our other area locations. You might get lucky.”
Other locations! I hadn’t even thought of that. I lifted my head and watched her type, holding my breath. Please, please, please, please…
She sighed and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “Nope. But I’ll check the other companies for you.”
My lungs burned as I waited, my hands in fists to stop from drumming my fingers on the counter.
The CIA should forget waterboarding—watching someone else search for information on a computer when you’re dying to know the answer is pure torture.
Sook-Yin tapped, her eyes scanning the screen, and my heart pounded.
There had to be one freaking car left to rent in the Bay Area.
There had to be. I’d go to Oakland. Jesus, I’d bus it to Modesto if I had to. Please, please, please, please…
Then she gave me the head tilt/sad smile again, and I knew it was hopeless.
She didn’t have to say it. I tried to smile back.
“Thanks for checking. It was really nice of you.” My brain whirled.
What about Greyhound? Sure, it was the busiest travel time of the year and the buses would be loaded with people who couldn’t get flights, but maybe. “I guess I’ll try the bus.”
She winced. “I’ve heard they’re overbooked. And there was that mechanic’s strike? There aren’t enough buses, apparently.”
“I guess the trains are sold out too.”
“Do you want me to check?” Her gaze shifted to something behind me, and she smiled. “Excuse me for a second. Ah, there you are,” she said to someone. “Did you find the Starbucks?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m caffeinated and ready to hit the road.”
My whole body seized. It couldn’t be. It was not possible.
Not. Possible.
I slowly turned and…wow. Gavin Bloomberg—still as annoyingly tall and hot as ever—was actually standing there in a fitted brown leather jacket with a blue travel mug in one hand and a little rolling gray suitcase resting by his suede Pumas. He blinked at me, and after a moment his lip curled.
“Charlie?” He appeared as horrified as I felt.
Of all the car rental places in all the freaking world… I concentrated on a civil tone. After all, we were eighteen and officially adults now. “Gavin.”
“Uh…hi.” He stared at me the way he might a piece of gum after walking around on it all day and prying it free from the bottom of his shoe, with little pebbles and a bunch of shit dried into it.
He ran a hand through his thick, short hair, and even under dull fluorescents I couldn’t help but notice the rich auburn highlights.
His sideburns were longer than when I’d last seen him at graduation in June.
I was weirdly struck by a memory of the summer we’d met, and how almost every day we’d stretch out in the sun by the pond, and he’d close his eyes while I watched his hair dry, the whole time aching to touch.
“Do you guys know each other?” Sook-Yin asked.
I nodded. “I guess. Not really. I mean, we went to high school together.” This was definitely a nightmare, but sadly I was all too awake. Time to evacuate. “Well, I should go.”
“Wait!” Sook-Yin’s face lit up. “Are you both trying to get to the same place? Maybe you could drive together?”
My brain was so dumbfounded at Gavin’s unexpected presence that I hadn’t even processed that he’d obviously rented a vehicle. Oh. My. God. Of course he’d snagged the last car. Of course. Because he got everything he wanted.
Gavin glanced between me and Sook-Yin. “I’m going back to Norwalk.”
“Me too. But we can’t…” I waved a hand between us.
Sook-Yin’s brow creased. “But it’s the perfect solution, isn’t it? I can add another driver to the contract. I’ll even waive the extra fee. You’re already paying more since you’re under twenty-five. Obviously it’s up to you, though.”
“Uh…” Gavin stared at her with dawning horror in his brown eyes.
I shared that horror. There was no way—no effing way!—Gavin Bloomberg and I could drive to Connecticut together. It was impossible. It was unthinkable. It was the worst idea ever.
But fuck me. It was my shot.
As much as I hated it, this was my way home for Christmas. Gavin and I could split the driving and gas, and we could totally make it for the twenty-fifth with tons of time to spare.
“I can’t…it’s…” Clutching his travel mug, Gavin stared at me.
“I promised Ava I’d be home for Christmas.”
The hard edges of Gavin’s gaze softened, and he exhaled. After a long moment, he nodded. “Then I guess we’d better get going.”
“I’m so glad this worked out. What a small world. Can you give me your license?” Sook-Yin started entering my info, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air. “Wait, do you two actually live on the same street?”
Gavin and I nodded silently.
“Wow, what are the odds?” Smiling, she printed off a new contract. “Do you go to the same school out here too?”
“No. He’s at USF and I’m at Stanford,” Gavin answered.
I blinked. He knew where I went? Mom’s voice echoed in my mind.
“Hon, guess who’s going to Frisco for college too?”
“Please don’t call it Frisco.” I rolled another T-shirt and squeezed it into my pink suitcase. “And no, who?”
“Your friend Gavin! Isn’t that wonderful? I’m so glad you’ll have someone from home out there with you.”
The fact that Gavin was most certainly not my friend—and had not been my friend since Pete Stiffler’s party at the beginning of ninth grade—had been lost on my mom. In her defense, her plate had been pretty fucking full the last few years, and I’d never even hinted at a problem.
“I just need you both to sign here, and initial here, here, and here.” Sook-Yin circled spots on the contract.
Gavin picked up the pen, passing it to me when he was finished. The plastic was warm from his fingers, and my stomach danced the way it used to when Gavin was close by. I felt fourteen again and hopelessly out of my depth.
After marking my last initial, I passed the contract back to Sook-Yin, who ripped off a copy and slid it into a narrow folder.
She handed Gavin a key. “Here you go. It’s in spot C-thirty-seven, but since it’s the last car left, it won’t be hard to find.
It’s a Jetta, but don’t worry, I only charged you economy class. Have a safe drive, and happy holidays!”
We smiled and thanked her, and I followed Gavin to the garage.
In silence, we rode the elevator down, and in the subterranean concrete maze, the only sound was the rumbling drone of our suitcase wheels and the odd car driving by.
The Jetta waited, navy blue and four-doored, boxy with its sedate and practical German engineering.
A man chewing gum approached from the little Expedition office, which was more like a shack. He wore coveralls and a baseball cap. “Got the last one, huh?”
I smiled tightly. “Yep.”
We inspected the car, circling it to make sure there were no dings or scratches. Gavin signed the form, and the guy started the engine. “Tank is full, and you’re ready to go. Have a good one.” He shuffled off.
Gavin popped the trunk and eyed my pink monstrosity. “Are you moving back or something?”
“No.” I stubbornly didn’t explain further and hefted up the suitcase.
After fitting in his little gray case, Gavin closed the trunk. “I guess I’ll drive first?”
“Sure.” It was all very civil and so freaking bizarre, oh my God.
I went around to the passenger side, buckling my belt and pushing the seat back for maximum leg room.
I was only five-nine compared to Gavin’s ridiculous six-one, but I still liked to stretch out.
Especially since we were going to be in this car for forty-three hours—and that was with clear weather and no traffic jams. I barely resisted the urge to whimper.
Just getting out of the Bay Area took forever in good conditions, let alone FOGmageddon.
After adjusting the mirrors, Gavin backed up. Neither of us spoke as he navigated the winding levels of the garage, and at the exit he stuck the provided parking ticket into the machine. The mechanical arm jerked up to let us pass, and home had never felt so incredibly far away.