Chapter 5
Chapter Five
CHARLIE
I need to get Alice out of here—that’s all I know for sure.
As I sprint around the main lodge, “save Carrots” echoes in my head like a battle cry. I’m just not sure how to make that happen, what the right move is. Then Alice shifts, and I catch my first real glimpse of her face.
One look at the sadness in her eyes, and I switch into autopilot. No plan necessary.
“Hey, Allie.” I ease up beside her. “Sorry I’m late. How was your trip?”
Allie?
Alice doesn’t answer. Her eyes are wide with surprise, and she pivots to glance at the parking lot, to where I dropped her off earlier before driving away, but my brother’s car isn’t there. It’s around the corner by the road. Parked in the grass where I left it when I decided to sneak back and check on her.
When she glances at me again, I wink and hope for the best. Alice emits a stunned chuckle. It’s kind of adorable.
This would be the perfect moment for her to meet me halfway. To realize this is a rescue mission and pitch in. Oh, Charlie, you’re here! How have you been? You’re looking eleven different kinds of hot today—how is that even possible?
You know, something casual.
But all she can do is stare. Like we just met a few hours ago at a bus station, and Alice was kind of hoping we’d never see each other again. A vibe her boyfriend picks up on instantly.
His gaze darts between us, his eyes full of suspicion, and I need to distract him. It’s time to play my new favorite game, Upset the Bad Boyfriend. Because feeling suspicious will be a lot harder if I make him angry instead.
“Is this the boyfriend you were telling me about?” I give him an amused smirk before glancing back at Alice. “He looks…different than I expected.”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
That’s all Alice says, but it’s a real crossroads moment. I’m still running on autopilot, going purely off instinct, and it fine-tunes itself on the spot. If this moment were real, if my “platonic” friend Alice just announced she was back on the market, I know exactly how I’d respond. For better or worse.
“Wait—you’re single now?” I let that question roll out nice and slow. As if her visit to Ponderosa Falls suddenly got a lot more interesting. “Have I mentioned how good it is to see you again, Allie? It’s been way too long.”
She blushes, playing that moment just right without even trying, and Jason’s suspicions are long gone. He’s too annoyed I’m prowling around his ex. “You two know each other?”
Alice nods, finally leaning into my rescue mission, and we’re officially on the same page. She’s ready to become my partner in lies and help get us out of here. Unfortunately, she’s a terrible liar.
“This is Charlie!”
That’s it. That’s all she says. And her voice is too bright, so happy and loud it makes her ex flinch. I’d probably flinch too, if she wasn’t the cutest bad liar I’ve ever seen.
Jason waits for Alice to explain, for her to mention how we know each other, but she doesn’t. Her gaze flicks toward me, and I guess that’s my job. Although I really wish it weren’t.
Lying used to be my specialty, but I’m a little off my game these days, especially with Alice staring at me like that. At least she doesn’t look like she’s about to cry anymore. When I first showed up, she was seconds away from breaking down. Now she just looks hopeful. As if she has no idea how to help, but she can’t wait to see how I get us out of this.
I do what I can, stalling and thinking at the same time, my brain spinning like a hamster wheel. How do I know Alice? “We go way back, but we haven’t seen each other in years. We met a long time ago…as kids. At summer camp.”
Summer camp?
That lie is so thin it’s practically invisible. Jason should call us out on the spot, but he doesn’t. Why isn’t he calling us out?
Glancing at Alice, he goes along for the ride instead. “You met him at camp? The Young Writers one in D.C.?”
The what-what-in-where?
Leave it to Alice to have attended a very specific summer camp. One her boyfriend knows all about.
It takes her a few seconds to recover from this new plot twist. “Yep…we met at creative writing summer camp. We were both in the poetry program together.”
The poetry program?
Do we actually subject children to that? Do we make them study poetry in the dead heat of summer?
“My specialty was sonnets,” she continues before glancing at me. “What was your specialty again?”
We’re doomed.
If she can’t come up with an answer to that question, what makes her think I can? Exhaling, I scour my brain for poetry facts. Since I’m the kind of guy who didn’t know sonnets existed until two seconds ago, it’s a real struggle. Tenth-grade remedial English class, don’t fail me now.
“Beat poetry.”
Those are the first words out of my mouth, and they sound like a mistake. Does beat poetry actually exist? Because it sounds super fake.
“Beat poetry?” Jason repeats, and Alice beams, delighted. If she could give me a gold star for my answer, she would. I guess beat poetry exists after all.
“Meter and rhyme don’t interest Charlie,” she tells her ex. “He makes his own rules.”
Is that what beat poetry is? I nod emphatically, and Alice tries not to laugh—that’s how relieved she is about my answer. Her gaze finds mine for a split second, and I feel like I won a prize.
“You write poems?”
I’d almost forgotten Tiffany was here, but the sound of her voice brings everyone back to reality. Alice’s smile fades, and all her sadness rushes back in. I have to get her out of here before she breaks. Before she falls apart in front of two people who don’t deserve another second of her time.
Jason wants her out of here too. For very different reasons. “Do you need to call a cab to take you back to the bus station? We should at least move your luggage out of the way. It’s blocking the entire path.”
He’s more concerned with sidewalk traffic than anything. Reaching around her backpack and duffle bag, he grabs the handle of her giant red suitcase. But he underestimates his opponent.
That thing is heavier than it looks. He yanks it off the ground, but it slips free with a jolt. Her suitcase flies out of his hand and crashes to the ground, vibrating with a loud metallic clank. What is in that thing?
Jason knows.
His eyes narrow, and whatever she packed, it’s basically his enemy. Before he can say anything, I edge past him to grab her suitcase myself. He tries to block me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting her bags—that’s why I’m here. She’s staying with me. Right, Allie?”
I’m not sure where this new lie comes from—how my autopilot is that broken. If she’s staying at my place, why didn’t I just meet her at the bus station? But Jason doesn’t fight me on it, and neither does Alice. That girl is too busy trying not to cry. When she nods weakly, I keep going.
“Alice texted after she saw your message. I told her since you were so busy, she could just stay with me while she’s in town. She wasn’t sure if you’d set anything up, and I’ve got plenty of space. Alice is going to be my roommate for the week.”
Only some of that is a lie. I just met Alice, but she mentioned back at the bus station she wasn’t sure where she was staying. Jason promised he had it covered—but that was before he canceled on her via text. I wait for him to correct me, to tell me he set something up for her like they planned, and she should stay there instead. For him to go full protective boyfriend even though he’s technically her ex.
He doesn’t.
Before I can figure out why, Tiffany solves that riddle for me. Accidentally. “Why would he set up a place for her to stay? Jason didn’t even know she was coming—they barely talk anymore. She just showed up out of nowhere.”
That isn’t true. There’s too much panic in Jason’s eyes, too much pain and confusion in Alice’s. That’s why we’re getting away with this. Jason hasn’t called us out on a single terrible lie because he’s been telling lies of his own. Even if Tiffany hasn’t realized it yet.
I want to blow up his game so bad, prove he was playing both sides, but now isn’t the time. Alice glances away, and she can’t handle much more of this. I need to get her out of here like I planned—fast.
Bracing myself, I lift her giant suitcase, beg my shoulder not to dislocate, and usher her toward the resort exit. “Come on, babe.”
I hate how wrong that nickname feels, but I love how it makes Jason flinch. So I finish what I started. Letting those next words sound as indecent as they want.
“Let’s get you back to my place. Where you belong.”