Chapter 16
Okay!” Chloe said, smiling at me. “You all set?”
We were standing in the huge garage that, as I’d guessed the night before, resembled more of an airplane hangar than a regular garage, and I could see now was filled with cars—low-slung sports cars; luxury SUVs; a huge, mud-spattered truck. I’d said goodbye to the dogs back in the house, giving Tidbit’s silky ears a last rub and telling Andy to behave himself as he wagged his tail furiously and tried to lick my face.
And then after the dogs, I’d said my goodbyes to everyone else (Doug called a goodbye from the hot tub). Montana had told me to have a great time at school, and took my email so that she could send me a list of her favorite Stanwich recommendations. Wallace had been on the phone with his girlfriend, the long-distance Alyssa, but waved at me before going back to his conversation. I’d given the priceless art one last look, and then I’d left the house with Chloe to join Wylie and Russell, who’d gone out before us.
They were standing next to a vintage-looking blue Bronco with wood paneling along the sides. Russell was wearing shorts and a light-yellow button-down, the cuffs rolled up over his forearms, and when he’d come down that morning, he looked freshly showered, his glasses gone, his dark curls damp. It looked like Wylie was saying something to him about the car, but I couldn’t make it out from across the garage.
“Darcy?” Chloe prompted.
I swiveled my attention back to her. “Right!” I said quickly. “And yes. I’m all set.” I tipped my head toward Russell and his dad. “Is everything okay over there?”
She waved this off. “The Bronco is Wylie’s baby. He never wants anyone to drive it, which never made sense to me. Why have a car if it’s just going to sit in a garage?”
“I guess… if you don’t want anything to happen to it?”
“Then don’t buy it,” she said, her voice definitive. “Otherwise it’s just a waste. Do you have everything?”
“Yes,” I said, suddenly remembering. “But I need to give you your clothes back.”
She waved this off. “It’s nothing. I want you to keep them. Consider it my way of atoning for the bus thing.”
“What bus thing?”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Buses leave practically every hour from Vegas going to LA. I know for a fact there’s one that leaves at three a.m. so that people can be back in time for work in the morning.”
“That’s… really troubling.”
“I know,” Chloe said with a sigh. “The gambling industry is truly terrible.”
“But—why did you tell me they stopped running?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be alone in a bus station in Vegas,” Chloe said. “Also, I thought maybe you and Russell had stuff to clear up.” I gave her a look and she shrugged. “But obviously, that’s your business, not mine.”
“Yeah.” I glanced over to Russell and Wylie. “I just…”
Russell was now wearing sunglasses—they were black Wayfarers. It hadn’t been bright enough yesterday for either of us to need sunglasses, and wearing them now, backlit by the sun, he looked like a Paul Newman dream.
“You just what?” Chloe asked, her voice soft.
“Nothing. Russell and I are just friends, that’s all.” Chloe gave me a look that plainly said come on. “We’re just friends now,” I amended. “And okay, sure, yesterday I thought maybe it was something else, but I was very stupid yesterday.”
I’m not arguing, Didi chimed in.
“I mean, it was ridiculous. I got caught up in an idea of something and convinced myself it was true. But there’s no such thing as falling for someone at first sight.”
“What? Of course there is.”
“But—”
“It’s just not the only thing,” she said. “The rest of story is more important than the beginning.”
“Have you ever—I mean…?”
Chloe looked over at Wylie, her expression softening. “Oh yeah,” she said. “I was a goner from minute one. He was too. It was like lightning.”
“But it didn’t work out,” I said, even though I had a feeling she was more than aware of this. That lightning lights up the whole sky—but then disappears.
She turned back to me. “Most things don’t work out,” she said, like it should have been obvious. “But if you don’t try, you don’t know. Right?”
“Okay,” Wylie called. Chloe headed over toward him, and I followed, turning her words over in my head. Wylie handed Russell a set of keys with what looked like great reluctance. “Russell has assured me that he will treat my baby with respect and care.”
Russell gave me a smile, then got into the driver’s seat and started adjusting the mirrors. Wylie put my duffel and tent into the back seat, then came to join me and Chloe.
“Well, um… It was really great to meet you, and thank you so much—”
“It was great to meet you,” Chloe said as she pulled me in for a quick hug, then took a step back and looked at me critically. “Have you ever thought about bangs?”
“Um. Not really?”
“I think they’d look great,” she said with a nod as she headed back toward the house. “Get home safe!”
I waved at her, then turned to Wylie. “Thank you. For everything.”
He waved this off. “Just drive safe, okay? And good luck.” He held out his hand to me, and I shook it. Wylie smiled at me, his real smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Darcy.”
I gave him one back, trying to freeze this moment in my mind. And even though I had a charged phone now, and I knew I could have taken it out and asked him for a picture, I also knew I wasn’t going to do that. Not only because it seemed incredibly gauche, but also because I kind of liked that, for once, I didn’t have any pictures marking this time. It was just something I’d have to remember, and hold on tight to.
I headed for the car and pulled open the passenger-side door. Russell was in the driver’s seat, one elbow resting against the open window, his curls falling over his forehead and his black Wayfarers reflecting the sun.
As I settled into the car, dropping my canvas bag at my feet, I realized I’d never been in a car quite like this. It looked like it was probably from the seventies or eighties. Russell and I didn’t even have our own seats—the front seat was just one long bench seat that stretched across, with nothing separating or dividing us. And the seat belts just went across our laps—which I knew was a thing from older cars but wasn’t anything I’d experienced outside of a plane. The windows went down with a manual crank, which was also something I’d never seen before.
“Ready to do this?” Russell asked, starting the car.
I nodded. “Ready. Do you need the address? It’s the South Strip Transfer Terminal.” I looked around and realized—of course—this car wouldn’t have any kind of screen you could see directions on. “I can navigate, if you want?”
“I’m good to get us in the general direction—I might need some help as we get closer.”
“For sure.” I pulled out my phone and typed the address in. “And thanks again for the ride.”
“Of course.” He shifted the car into gear and pulled forward, down the driveway and toward the gates. I glanced back and saw Wylie standing in place watching us. He raised a hand in a wave, and I raised one back. “You should definitely be there in time for the nine o’clock bus.”
“Oh, good.” As Russell approached the gates, they swung inward, and when they’d opened all the way, he drove through them. I turned around for a last look at the mansion, this impossible place where I’d literally landed last night, taking one last picture in my mind before we drove forward and it passed out of sight. I leaned back against the seat, which was covered in a kind of soft maroon fabric. “I would have a lot of explaining to do if my dad came home and found I hadn’t been there.”
“He really thinks you got in last night?”
“He’s not home yet, so I think I’m in the clear.”
“Yeah, I talked to my mom a little bit this morning—she’s not thrilled with me either. When you disappear after a music festival and don’t reach out for hours, it seems to make people upset. Who knew?” We approached a gatehouse, and Russell slowed the car. The woman inside nodded at him, and a second later, this gate rose up. “She says we’re going to have a discussion about it when I get home tonight,” he said with a wince.
We drove in silence for a little while. I unrolled my window and let the morning breeze lift my hair, then looked across the car at him—he was just an arm’s length away.
“What?” he asked, glancing over at me.
“Nothing. I just realized that this is the first time we’ve been in a car together. We did a helicopter before a car. We’re doing things all out of order.”
“We were on that bus, though. Does that count?”
“Maybe. It’s just funny that this is the first time I’m seeing you drive.”
“And? Verdict?”
I turned a little bit to face him more, drawing one leg up. These lap belts really did make it easier to move around.
That’s because they don’t work as well,Didi pointed out. You get that, right?
“Very safe.” He was driving carefully, if a bit slowly, his hands gripping the wheel at ten and two. “You’re a driving instructor’s dream.”
“Yeah,” Russell said with a short laugh. “I, um, was in a car accident right after I got my license. I was with the Bens, and Tall Ben was driving. This car ran the red, slammed into us—we spun around in the intersection, and hit another car.…”
“Oh my god. Was everyone okay?”
“Ben broke his collarbone when the airbag deployed. I got pretty scratched up. One cut was so deep they actually had to take a skin graft for it.”
“Really? I didn’t see anything.”
“It was actually from, uh, my butt.” I could see that Russell was blushing, his cheeks turning red.
“Right, then I guess I wouldn’t have…” I trailed off as I suddenly remembered just how much of Russell’s skin I had, in fact, seen, feeling like my face was probably matching his.
“So, ever since then, I drive pretty slowly. My friends always make fun of me. Actually Tall Ben calls me the Little Old Lady from Pasadena.”
“But—the whole point of that song is that she drives fast.” Every time summer rolled around, like clockwork, my dad went on a Beach Boys kick. “Summer in California music,” he’d call it, grooving in the kitchen as he made dinner to “Fun, Fun, Fun” or “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” or “God Only Knows.” Just like I’d absorbed all the Nighthawks songs as though through osmosis, it was the same with the Beach Boys. There wasn’t a moment I remembered learning them, but in my brain was every word on Pet Sounds, in there along with my ABCs. “She’s the terror of Colorado Boulevard. Remember?”
Russell shook his head. “Don’t tell my dad. He’ll never forgive me.”
“I mean—the Bens might have been calling you that for some other reason that had nothing to do with your driving.”
Russell laughed again. “I’m okay now, but it used to stress me out to drive on surface streets. Too many intersections, too much stopping and starting—too many red lights. But on the highway, it’s always just been easier. It’s why I normally drive out here.”
“You mean—to Vegas? From LA?”
Russell nodded. “It’s the perfect road trip, as far as I’m concerned. Four and a half hours, the scenery is beautiful—and just about the time you’re getting sick of driving, you’re home.”
“Don’t tell Jesse, Nevada.”
Russell laughed. “I won’t.”
“Well, I’ll try to appreciate it from the bus.”
“Speaking of buses—how do you think they’re doing?” Russell asked as he changed lanes.
“Who?”
“Our friends from the bus station. The movie couple and Sunburned Dude.”
“Probably halfway to LA by now, right?”
Russell nodded, but then smiled. “Unless.”
“Unless?”
“Unless it turns out that Jesse is a magic town that only appears once every hundred years and we actually dodged a bullet, leaving when we did.”
I frowned and leaned my head back against the window. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“Why does—it’s Brigadoon!” he sputtered. He glanced over at me for a second, then back at the road. “The musical?”
“Oh, right. I knew I knew that from somewhere.”
“You’re definitely going to need to check it out. It’s one of the best.”
“Or I could hear your musical.” This car didn’t have anything like a normal console—or cupholders—but above the vents and an ashtray there was a little kind of tray that folded down, and that’s where Russell’s phone was currently riding. I had a feeling this car was way too old to have any kind of connection to our phones, but I figured Russell could just play it from his phone and turn up the volume.
“Um.” Russell glanced down at his watch. “Maybe.”
“Right,” I said a second later, as I remembered what our situation actually was. I looked at my phone and saw that we would be at the bus station in five minutes. Not enough time to hear a whole musical. Barely enough time to hear a song. “So the next turn is George Crockett Road, and then a left on Gillespie Street.”
“Great,” Russell said, giving me a quick smile.
We must have been getting closer to the Las Vegas Strip—there were suddenly billboards popping up, advertising casinos and comedians and buffets. I tried to concentrate on them as I looked out the window, attempting to ignore the last-day-of-school feeling that had started churning inside me. I now only had three minutes left. Was this really going to be—it? Three minutes from now, I’d be on a bus and this whole thing with Russell would just be over?
Well—yeah,Katy said, sounding confused.
What did you think was going to happen?Didi asked.
“Is this it?” Russell slowed the car down and I looked around. Sure enough, there was a sign—black letters on beige tiles reading SOUTH STRIP TRANSFER TERMINAL.
“I think that’s it.” It looked like a big building—and from the sound of the plane roaring by above my head, I had a feeling we must be pretty near the airport. Russell swung the car into the lot and shifted into park.
“You’re good on time?”
I nodded. I was—but even though I had a little bit of a cushion, I was well aware I still had to go talk to someone, figure out about making sure my ticket from last night transferred over. “I should be okay.” I ran a hand through my hair—it was like I could practically hear the ticking of the clock. There was so much it felt like we hadn’t said—and absolutely no time left to say it in.
Russell held out his phone to me. “Do—you want to put your number in? And then I could text you with mine?”
I took his phone, nodding. “Right. Sure, good idea.” It seemed crazy that we didn’t have each other’s numbers—but then, until now, there wouldn’t have been a moment that we needed them. I typed my number into his phone, then handed it back. “And Montana has my email. And probably C.J., too, now that I think about it.”
Russell laughed. “I’m sure she does.”
We looked across the car at each other—the whole space filled up with everything we weren’t saying. I broke the look first, reaching down for my bag. “I should grab my stuff.”
“Right,” Russell said. He killed the engine and we both got out of the car. He helped me take out my tent and duffel bag. “I’ll wait here for a bit? In case something goes wrong?”
“That’s really nice of you. But I’m sure I’ll be okay.” I glanced across the asphalt toward the main building. It wasn’t even that far a distance. But I knew that the second I crossed it, this would be over.
“Well—okay,” Russell said. “I guess…”
“Yeah,” I said. I reached over and gave him a quick hug, barely touching, over before it started. “I guess… I’ll see you?” But even as I was saying the words, I knew I wouldn’t, most likely.
Russell gave me a smile that let me know he was thinking the same thing. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “Absolutely.”
“Okay,” I said, hating every minute of what was happening now—and hating that there wasn’t time to make it better. I gave him a nod, then turned and walked toward the bus station on legs that suddenly felt heavy.
As I got closer to the sliding doors, I tried to tell myself that this was just what had to happen. And that everything was fine. Because it was. I’d be home in more than enough time to get my car and get back home before my dad. Things were working out. This was what I wanted.
And yet.
And yet what?This was Didi, her voice unexpectedly gentle.
The doors to the station slid open, and I was hit with a wave of air-conditioning. But I only got two steps in before I stopped short. And before I could think about what I was doing, I turned around and walked back out into the parking lot.
Russell was leaning against the side of the car, and when I reached him he straightened up, his brow furrowed. “You okay? Did you forget something?”
“Not exactly. Kind of? I just…” I twisted my hands together, balancing on the precipice of my idea. Was I really going to do this? It was also a big ask.
The worst he can say is no,Didi pointed out.
“What?” Russell came a step closer, and tucked his sunglasses into the V of his button-down.
“Just… what if I didn’t get on the bus?”
“I thought you had to get home before your dad.”
“I do! But since you said it was your favorite—I guess I was wondering if maybe…”
“Maybe…?”
I took a breath and made myself ask. “Maybe instead, you wanted to take a road trip.”
Russell’s jaw dropped open. “Wait, what?”