Chapter Five
Five
BEING IN THE ROOM CLOSEST to the front door means I hear everything.
The shouts in the breezeway on the other side of my bedroom wall, and the front door creaking open and shutting again at ten, at twelve, at two.
I toss and turn on the springy mattress, my pillow over my head as I pray for sleep.
Between the noise and the anxiety of being tossed out at any moment, I barely catch a few hours before I’m peeling gritty eyes open to the sun streaming in my window.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and sit up, startled to find it’s nearing ten in the morning.
I flop back against my pillow and stare at the ceiling. I wonder if Jamie has finished checking my code. Should I even bother unpacking, or just load my car back up and wait in the parking lot for the screaming-crying phone call from my parents?
I sit up with a gasp. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no.” I jump out of bed and tear out of my room, nearly bowling over a shocked Andres as he comes out of the bathroom I’m supposed to share with Mikey and Felicity.
“Sorry! Jamie was in ours. Hey, where are you going?” he calls after me as I race out the front door, leaving it wide open behind me. I’m surprised I have the wherewithal to use the knob, instead of just putting a Blair-shaped hole straight through it.
The sidewalk burns the bottoms of my feet as I run barefoot to the parking lot, but as I round the building, I realize this was unavoidable. Of course the fire lane is empty.
My car, forgotten in all the drama of discovering Jamie in the apartment, is gone.
“Blair! You okay?”
I turn, staring dazedly at Andres as he jogs down the sidewalk to me, wearing only a T-shirt and boxers.
“I…” I look toward the parking lot, pointing dumbstruck at the empty fire lane. “My…”
Andres stops beside me, checking my face before following the line of my finger.
He shoots me a worried look. “Is this one of those weird sleepwalking things? I know you’re not supposed to wake a sleepwalker.
If you’re awake right now, say ‘banana bread.’ ” He grins.
“As in, I ate the banana bread Mikey left on the counter for you. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m allergic.”
“To bananas?” He frowns. “Bummer.”
“To walnuts.”
“There were walnuts in it?” He frowns. “I don’t think so. I ate it pretty fast, but not that fast. Also, Mikey hates nuts. She says most of them are unethically sourced, and we can’t afford fair trade.”
I’m momentarily jogged from my stupor, and I glare past him at the apartment. “Fucking Jamie.”
Andres’s smile is tinged with confusion as he says, “So you’re not sleepwalking?”
“My car got towed.” I put my hands over my face and stamp my bare feet against the sidewalk. “My parents are going to kill me!”
“Seems to be a theme for you.” He tips his head toward the apartment. “Wanna come back inside?”
I nod, frustrated tears welling in my eyes as I shuffle after him. In the apartment, Mikey and Felicity have come out of their room, drawn by the noise.
“Blair’s car got towed,” Andres announces as he shuts the door behind us.
I groan, turning to press my forehead against it. From this angle, I have a perfect view of the elbow hole I made yesterday.
“Oh no! How did that happen?” Mikey asks.
I cannot admit my own stupidity, so I hedge. “I guess I parked somewhere I shouldn’t have. Um, do you think—would one of you mind…” I flip around, looking between the three of them. “Could one of you drive me to the tow yard? Please?”
Andres winces. “I have to leave for work—no joke—like, five minutes ago.”
“I don’t have a car,” Felicity answers. “But how far is it? Mikey could probably take you on the bike.”
“I could,” Mikey says. “I mean, the bike isn’t totally street legal, but if you’re okay with it, I’m good with it!”
“Um…”
Mikey nods, understanding. Behind her, the boys’ bathroom door swings open, and Jamie steps out, a towel around his hips. I get an eyeful of lightly tanned skin and ridges of muscle before I force my gaze away, mortified.
Don’t look! Why would you look? Have you lost your mind?
I flick my gaze to the ceiling, then realize how obvious that is and focus on Mikey again. She’s pouting at Jamie.
“No big deal,” I say loudly, because I’m not asking Jamie Atwater for one more favor in this lifetime or the next. “That’s why they invented Uber.”
I force a chuckle as I move into my designated bathroom, where I scrub viciously at my teeth and wash the sleep grease from my face.
I’m so busy berating myself for being such an idiot—I never forget things like this, ever, ever, which can only mean that the stress Jamie is inflicting on me has taken its toll—I barely notice the formerly clean bathroom counter is strewn with makeup from Mikey and Felicity’s pre-party prep last night.
(There’s also a lone Taco Bell Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes cup, remnants of cheese and sour cream still clinging to the bottom, which I am not too stressed to notice and quickly sweep into the trash can.)
In my room, I change into the first outfit I can reach in my suitcase and do a cursory check that I have everything I need—keys, phone, wallet.
Then I count down slowly from ten to clear my head.
I can either tell my parents now that I made a first-day-in-town error or wait until they get my credit card bill next month and pray they don’t notice.
Who am I kidding? I definitely need to come up with a proactive plan here.
Mom once clocked the time I spent thirty dollars at the Gas ’n’ Go two days in a row, and it took two hours of me sitting in stony silence at the kitchen table with her before I finally caved and admitted my great crime was filling Starr’s car with gas because she’d overdrawn her bank account.
(For this I endured an hour-long lecture about how it was not my job to be Starr’s savior when she was careless with her money.
Mom wouldn’t even let me explain that it only happened because Starr’s paycheck had bounced.
Some people would probably think Mom has forgotten all about what life was like when we were broke, but she hasn’t—instead it’s become the weapon she wields whenever she thinks someone else has acted irresponsible with money: “I would never have allowed you to borrow money from your friends if we were in that situation.”)
I fire off a text to Mom before I can talk myself out of it.
ME
I made a mistake but I’m fixing it.
I misread a parking sign and my car got towed but everything is fine. I’m sorry. I’m going to use my credit card but I’ll pay you back.
There. Done.
When I open my door, Jamie waits on the other side, shoulder against the jamb, hair rumpled and damp, keys in hand.
“I don’t need you. I’m already calling an Uber,” I say, holding up my phone. He squints at the screen, and I pull it away quickly. “I mean, I’m about to.”
He puts a hand on the back of my neck, steering me into the hall. “Too late. I’m already up.”
“Thanks, Jamie!” Mikey calls after him.
He waves over his shoulder as he pushes me out the front door.
I dig my heels in. “I don’t need your help.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to do this either, but Mikey has it in her head that I’m some kind of hero, so I guess I’m responsible for you now. Lucky me.” He motions across the parking lot, where his Jeep waits.
No. Not the rollover hazard!
The first time Jamie parked his Jeep in our driveway, Victor turned to me and said, “Promise me you will never, ever get in that death trap.”
It was a laughable warning at the time. What business would I have in Jamie’s Jeep? He and Sawyer had never even offered to drive me to school.
I could never have imagined this situation.
“I think I’d rather take the Uber,” I say, eyeing the Jeep. “I do not want to give the impression you’re responsible for me, and also, I’m not getting in that thing.”
Jamie stops walking, his mouth ajar as he turns to me. “That thing? First you ‘ew’ me twice, and now you insult my girl?”
I make a grossed-out noise, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
“Get in the car,” he says, half exasperated as he starts toward the Jeep.
It’s parked beside a dirt bike with the words “The Mike Bike” spray-painted on the side in neon green, and I’m momentarily stunned that Mikey thought she and I would both fit on that thing.
I’m not even sure I could confidently sit on it by myself. There has to be a weight limit.
“If I go back now,” Jamie continues, “we’ll all have to endure Mikey’s disappointed face, and that’s not something you want. I promise I’ll drive very carefully.”
I shouldn’t let him take me, but if Mom sees the Uber charge on my credit card, she’ll want to know why Starr or Leni couldn’t drive me. It would be easier to not have to explain.
But I’m still not eager to put myself at Jamie’s mercy, or in his passenger seat. The thing doesn’t even have doors! As I reluctantly haul myself up and buckle in, I tug hard at my seat belt to make sure it’s secure.
“A little dramatic,” Jamie says as he turns the key, the engine roaring to life. That he still uses an actual key in the ignition should say everything that needs to be said about the age of his car.
“I’m very committed to my personal safety. I’m sure someone who drives this…” I trail off, eyeing the Jeep. “… ancient artifact wouldn’t understand that.”
Jamie says something, but I don’t hear him over the rushing in my ears as my phone buzzes with a text from Mom.
MOM
FaceTime me. Right now.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Shit, shit, shit.” Panicked nausea turns my stomach, and my skin goes instantly clammy.
“What?” Jamie asks, leaning over to look at my screen.
“Keep your eyes on the road!” I screech, clutching my phone to my chest.
Jamie straightens, shooting me a bewildered look. “I haven’t even left the parking lot.”
“There could be pedestrians.” The words come out reedy as I try to catch my breath.
He arches his eyebrows but says nothing.