I stared blankly at her while I considered retracting my offer altogether. Even though Gail wasn’t typically rude to me, sometimes her comments felt like someone was brushing my hair with a fork.
“I don’t want your pee. I just wanna know if you’re interested in the hours.”
Gail’s stare let me know that she still didn’t quite trust me, but she was considering the offer anyway. Like an animal who’d spotted food in a cage and didn’t know whether to go inside.
“No catch?”
“No catch,” I told her. “I’ll be away, so I just need someone to cover for me.”
“Okay, so it’s really me doing you the favor.”
This fucking girl. “Well, yeah. That’s usually what happens when someone asks you to cover for them at work.”
“The way you presented it made it seem like you were doing something for me.”
“So you don’t want the shift?”
“I never said that.”
“Then you do want it?”
“Never said that either.” She played with the ring in her nose, which I found repulsive. I could only hope she didn’t do that as a server.
“Can you just tell me whether you want it or not?”
Her lips twisted in thought. “Can I get back to you?”
My instinct was to say yes and leave, but I stopped myself. “No, I need an answer now. If you don’t want it, I’m sure there’s someone else who will.” I wasn’t sure that was true, but Gail didn’t know that.
She rolled her eyes like she was tired of talking to me and would say almost anything to get me to leave. “Fine, I’ll take it.”
We stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before I said, “Great, thanks,” so I could get out of there. Standing near Gail was like swimming with a dolphin. If you stayed in the water too long, the sedative might wear off and you’d suddenly get violently pulled under.
So I headed over toward the tables by the bar and pushed a few together so there’d be enough room for all of us. It wasn’t busy yet, and this section of the restaurant didn’t take reservations. While I waited for the others, I put in some appetizer orders and grabbed a few pitchers of beer.
The nachos and wings arrived right as my friends began to, and once we all got settled with our food and drinks, I asked Ransom how everything went with his professors and Harry.
“Fine. Harry was happy we were going to the reunion and said it’s not a big deal that we’ll be gone. I think it’s probably more of a hassle than he’s letting on, but he seemed happy to help, so I just said thanks on behalf of both of us.”
“I’ll make sure I thank him too. What about your classes?”
“I emailed. They both said it wouldn’t be a problem.” Ransom dipped his celery into some blue cheese. “How about you? You find someone to cover for you?”
“Yeah, I should be good.”
“When are you guys leaving?” Xander asked.
I shrugged because we hadn’t made definite plans yet. “The reunion’s on Saturday, so what were we thinking? Thursday morning maybe? Then we’ll have a day to relax before we see your family. When I looked it up, it said it takes like thirteen hours to get there.”
“Thursday’s probably a good idea,” Ransom said. “I’m sure we’ll hit some traffic, but if we both switch off driving, it shouldn’t be too brutal.”
“You’re driving?” Aamee sounded like she’d just heard someone suggest the health benefits of eating a baby’s placenta.
“Yeah,” I said. “We can’t exactly fly.”
“Why not?” Carter bit into a wing and finished it off before wiping his face.
“Because,” Ransom said, dropping his voice to almost a whisper, “plane tickets will have our names attached to them. It’d be easy to figure out where we’re going if the police wanna talk to us.”
“If they wanted to talk to you, don’t you think they already would have?” Brody asked.
“Maybe the cops are waiting until Ransom and Taylor do something suspicious, like try to flee the state, before they bring them in for questioning,” Aamee suggested. She settled back in her chair with the chip she’d just grabbed and nibbled at the corner, looking pleased with herself.
“We aren’t fleeing the state,” I told her. “We’re going to Ransom’s family reunion. And that’s what all of you will say if you’re asked. Right?” I glared at Aamee. “Even you.”
“That’s insulting,” she said.
“It was meant to be.”
Aamee rolled her eyes, but she promised our secret was safe with her.
Xander was sitting quietly, most likely thinking about something none of us had. His brain worked like a computer when it came to analyzing…well, anything, really.
“What?” I asked.
It took him a moment to realize I was speaking to him, and when he did, he looked at Ransom and me. “Just wondering if it actually might look less suspicious to fly. Think about it… Anyone trying to dodge the authorities wouldn’t fly. You said so yourself. So if you do fly, maybe it’ll look like you have nothing to hide.”
He wasn’t wrong necessarily. “It’s so much more expensive to fly, though,” I said.
“Not when you factor in food and gas,” Ransom explained. “And I’ll pay for it. It’s my reunion, and I was the one…”
He didn’t complete the sentence, and I couldn’t blame him. He didn’t need to say the words for the rest of us to know what they would’ve been.
“You two are doomed,” Xander blurted out. “You can’t fly there.”
Ransom and I exchanged glances before I said, “But you just—”
“I know what I just said. It was a test. And you failed worse than Brody when he’s not permitted to use a calculator.”
Brody appeared offended, though he most likely wasn’t. “Seriously though, why do math teachers even give tests and not let you use a calculator? I mean, is there ever going to be a time when I need to do math and don’t have access to my phone?”
“Probably the next time you lose it,” Carter joked.
I was starting to think it was a bad idea to get everyone involved in this mess, because all of it just became messier. “Okay, can we please all focus?”
“Yes,” Xander said. “Don’t fly.”
“Okay, you know what?” Ransom said. “I like the driving option better actually. I feel like in an airport I’d be looking over my shoulder the whole time. But this way we’ll be on our own on the open road. But I do agree that driving actually might look shadier than flying.”
Sophia had been quiet so far, and I wondered if it was because she couldn’t believe what I’d gotten myself into or if she was upset I’d dragged her into it too. If the cops were going to question someone about me, she’d be their first stop, and I felt terrible about it.
“What do you think, Soph?” I needed to know what she thought before I made any type of decision.
She didn’t say anything right away, and I watched as she shifted in her seat nervously. “I think you should get a gun.”
“What?” I practically yelled. “I’m not getting a gun!” Lowering my voice, I added, “We’re not running from the mob.”
“Yeah, but you never know who will be involved. What if one of Brad’s friends finds out what happened and goes after you guys? I’m worried.”
“We’re worried too,” I said. “And Jesus, thinking I might need a gun to protect myself doesn’t help with that.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before.”
“Well, neither have I. It’s not like I practiced how to avoid becoming a suspect after my stalker accidentally…” I motioned with my hand as if the movement would complete the sentence for me.
“Got killed?” Carter said, supplying the words like he thought I might have forgotten the outcome.
“Carter!” Brody snapped. “You’re not helping.”
“Hey, I suggested we rent some sort of private space fo
r meetings like this a while ago so we wouldn’t have to lower our voices, and Drew shot it down.”
“Because it’s a stupid idea,” Drew said.
“You wouldn’t think that if we had a Batcave.”
“We have Brody’s apartment. That’s as close to a cave as we need.”
“Hey,” Brody said. “You lived in that apartment for months.”
Drew stared at him before saying, “My comment stands.”
“I agree. Your apartment’s disgusting. Even with Aamee living there.” The comment had come from Toby, who I hadn’t realized was here because he was supposed to be working. He’d gotten a job as a sales consultant at a nearby gym.
“When did you get here?” I asked him over whatever insults Aamee was hurling at him.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is I told my boss I ate some bad sushi last night so I wouldn’t miss this meeting of the minds. So let’s figure this shit out.” Toby: the voice of reason.
He had a notebook in front of him and had been taking notes, which scared me. But it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much. “I also think it’s smart to drive, but you should probably come up with a reason why driving makes more sense than flying.”
We all thought, silently other than the crunching of food, as we waited for someone to come up with an idea.
“Anybody?” Ransom asked.
Carter swallowed the beer in his mouth. “Anybody what?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Brody said. “You’re worse than me.”
“Sorry. I was trying to figure out which wings these were. Are they the hot honey ones or the signature?” he asked, looking at the various choices on the menu.
“Hot honey,” I said.
“They’re good.” When he finished chewing the wing he’d just taken a bite of, he added, “So did you guys decide if you’re definitely driving? Because my buddy Owen needs a ride to Virginia this weekend.”
All at once, our whole group seemed to focus on him—a combination of narrowing eyes, head tilts, and eyebrows raised so high they looked like the result of a serious Botox overdose. Carter seemed oblivious to all of it, his attention still centered on his wings.
“Seriously?” Xander said on behalf of all of us.
Carter raised his gaze from his plate and finally appeared to notice the way the rest of us were looking at him. “What?”
“When were you planning to tell us that your friend needs a ride to Virginia?” Xander asked.
Now he looked as confused as the rest of us. “What do you mean? I just told you.”
“That’s the solution to the problem we were trying to solve,” I told him. “But you said it like it was an afterthought. You had the answer the whole time.”
Carter still looked lost.
“Jesus Christ,” I huffed out, collapsing my face into my palms.
I felt Ransom’s hand on my shoulder. “It’s not worth it,” he whispered.
If only Carter were capable of focusing on something for more than a few seconds, he could probably have been the next Bill Gates. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but he would’ve probably been able to engage in an intelligent conversation longer than he could hold his breath.
No one said anything else to him for a while, and then Carter finally spoke again. “So I’m tellin’ Owen he can get a ride with you guys, or…”
Chapter Five
T A Y L O R
“I can’t believe we agreed to this,” Ransom said as he put our bags into the bed of his truck.
I was glad he had a hard cover over it so our stuff would be safe as we traveled the thirteen hours to Georgia. Though it would likely be longer since we had to drop off Owen Parrish in Virginia and would likely hit traffic at various spots during the ride. But between the two of us, we were sure we could make it in one day. Hence our seven a.m. departure.
The initial plan was to leave even earlier, but Owen said he had a meeting to go to before he could leave. And while that made little to no sense, he was giving us an excuse for the trip, so we didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
“Is that him?” I asked as a guy about our age made his way toward us with a black duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. He had shaggy blond hair and light-blue eyes. With his slender build and the carefree way he moved, he looked like the consummate surfer boy.
Ransom followed my gaze and shrugged. “I don’t know what he looks like, but probably.”
When he was closer, the guy raised a hand and yelled, “Hey! You guys Random and Taylor?”
We both turned fully to face him as he approached and stopped in front of us. “It’s Ransom. Nice to meet you.” Ransom shook Owen’s hand.
“Whoa, Ransom. That name’s even more out there. Awesome.” Owen seemed genuinely pleased by Ransom’s name as he extended a hand to me. “Did I get your name right?”
“Yup,” I said with a smile. “I like your shirt.”
He smiled even wider and ran a hand down the black fabric that had a picture of Oscar the Grouch and said Talk Dirty to Me. “Thanks. It was a Christmas gift from my grandma.”
That took me a second to recover from. “That’s great.”
“Yeah. She got me another one with Mr. Snuffleupagus on it that says Every day I’m snufflin’. It’s a trip. Speaking of trips, we ready to go?”
“Yup,” Ransom said as he gestured toward the bed. “You want to put your bag in there or keep it in the truck with you?”
“I’ll hang on to it. I got some goodies for us in it.”
“That was thoughtful,” I said. “Thanks.”
“It’s the least I could do. I really appreciate you guys giving me a ride. My dad said if I didn’t make it home for my grandpop’s birthday, he was gonna draw and quarter me. And, like, I don’t even know what that means, but the way he said it made it sound hella unpleasant.”
“Yeah, I think it means to be cut into four pieces,” I told him.
“Whoa. Hardcore.” Owen sounded more impressed than horrified, which at least made me feel that we weren’t delivering this cute, clearly simple young man into the hands of a sadist.
We climbed into the truck and got settled. Ransom’s truck did have an extended cab, but there wasn’t a ton of leg room for anyone in the back, which caused Owen to have to sprawl out across the seat.
“Sorry. It’s a little tight back there,” Ransom said as he looked at Owen in the rearview mirror.
“No worries, dude. I once spent eight hours in the trunk of a two-door Neon. That was a wild trip.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, and it was clear Ransom didn’t either because he gave a simple nod before putting the truck in gear and pulling into traffic.
“So, Owen,” I said, twisting in my seat a bit to look at him. “Carter said you guys used to be in the same frat.”
“Yeah, that’s how we met. I only lasted a year, though. The guys wanted to dress up as women for our Halloween party, but that’s, like, really stereotypical and insulting. I told them I couldn’t be part of the hyperfemininity narrative they were attempting to spin and that their implicit biases were insulting to not only women but everyone who was trying to further the feminist agenda.”
For the second time since we’d met, Owen had struck me momentarily mute. “That’s…really admirable of you.”
“Thanks,” he said, his smile so wide he was practically glowing.
“What’s your major?” I asked.
“Accounting. But then I accidentally met a doula one day, so now I’m thinking about training to be a midwife. So I took on a minor in gender studies to learn more about the female perspective.”
“You…accidentally met a doula?”
“Yeah, I had an interview at a coffee shop, and she was there. I thought she was there to interview me, so I sat down, which made her think I was there to interview her. Trippiest conversation of my life.”
“I bet,” I replied.
We made a little more small talk before
I heard Owen ruffling through his bag. His body then poked over the seat between us.
“You guys want some brownies? I just got them this morning.” He began unwrapping the Saran Wrap and then broke off a piece of the large brownie and popped it into his mouth. He then broke off another piece and handed it to me.
“Oh, um, thanks,” I said as I took it.
Owen moved to hand a piece to Ransom but then pulled back as Ransom reached out to take it. “Oh, wait. You probably shouldn’t eat it while you’re driving.”
I stopped with the brownie nearly touching my lips.
Ransom whirled around to face Owen before quickly returning his attention to the road. “Dude, are you giving us pot brownies?”
Owen looked confused by the question. “Uh, yeah.”
Ransom held his hand out toward me, and I placed my brownie in it. Then he rolled down his window and threw my piece out onto the highway.
“Dude, what did you do that for? I would’ve eaten it.”
“Get rid of yours too, Owen.”
I turned and saw Owen clutch his brownie to his chest. “Why?”
“We can’t have drugs in the truck.”
“But…but…”
“No buts. If we get pulled over and they find that…I can’t risk it.”
Owen sighed. “I made a special request and everything. She put extra chocolate chips in them,” he said in a tone that sounded close to how I’d imagine a chastised toddler would sound.
“Was that what your meeting was this morning?”
“Yeah. I rent a basement apartment from an older woman named Minerva who makes them. But she works the night shift at a warehouse, so I had to wait for her to get home to get some from her.”
“It’s gotta go,” Ransom said, his tone brooking no argument.
Owen stared forlornly at his brownie. It made me a little sad to watch. He pressed the button to lower his window, gave his brownie one last look, and sneaked a large bite before throwing it out. Turning in his seat, Owen stared at where the brownie likely fell to the pavement for a second before turning around and slumping back in his seat.
Let's Not & Say We Did (The Love Game Book 5) Page 4