Getting Lost with Boys

by Hailey Abbott

  What really spooked her, though, was that she kind of liked the fact that Jake had his eyes on her. In fact, it was difficult for her to admit to herself how exhilarated she felt. It was so odd. A little while ago she was fending off someone’s advances by invoking the name of her boyfriend and kneeing him in the family jewels, and here she was, intrigued by the fact that her adversary had shown some interest in her.

  This is complete insanity, she said to herself. I’m seeing Paul tomorrow and I’m beginning to think that I need my head examined before I do.

  Jake came back into the room and began cleaning up. He was more fidgety now than when he’d left, as if he were nervous or preoccupied.

  Cordelia joined in. “So is Mike feeling any better?”

  “Yeah, he just drank another two glasses of water and zonked out again.”

  “That’s good,” she said.

  “I really hope he shapes up, you know? He’s got a good head on his shoulders when he’s not trying to give himself alcohol poisoning.”

  She gazed at Jake as he put their dishes onto the large room service trays. He seemed more mature all of a sudden. “He’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

  “Yeah, well,” he said with a quizzical look on his face. “This friend needs to unwind.”

  Suddenly Jake reached over to the night table, where he had put his drumsticks. He took them and tapped out a rhythm on all the plates and glasses on the tray. It was quick and snappy, like something she’d heard on her father’s jazz records. Cordelia kept her eyes on his hands as they danced and twirled the sticks around. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing. It was incredible, fantastic, and coming from the mind of Jacob Stein.

  When he was finished, he threw one of his sticks into the air and caught it in his hand. Cordelia could do nothing but applaud, and Jake even blushed a little bit.

  “Wow,” she said. “Jake, you really—”

  “Suck?” he interrupted.

  “Shut up! I was going to say it was very good.”

  “I was just riffing.”

  Cordelia shook her head. “Well, whatever it was, it sounded amazing.”

  Jake’s face lit up. “Thanks, Cordy.”

  “No problem,” she said, turning her gaze to the floor.

  “If I’m any good at it, it’s because I think it’s really fun,” he added. “Want to hear something weird?”

  She looked back up at him and grinned. “Sure.”

  “You didn’t check your Treo once tonight, or freak out at Mike’s because he lived in a germ-infested pit. You looked incredible, snuck into a casino, gambled away all of your money, kneed a man in the testicles, and stuffed yourself full of fattening food. And the weird thing is, I have a feeling that you had more than your fair share of fun. Didn’t you?”

  Cordelia just stared at him. She was utterly speechless.

  “I thought so.” Jake picked up the tray full of dishes and walked toward the door. Then he paused and turned around to say one last thing. “I’m sleeping on the floor in Mike’s room tonight, so the bed’s all yours. See ya in the morning.”

  “Yeah, see ya,” she said softly as he ambled away.

  Then she sat down on the mattress to steady herself and let what Jake had said sink in. It was all true, every last word of it. But Cordelia was fixated on one particular thing that he’d said.

  “You looked incredible.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cordelia checked her Swatch. Three P.M. On an ordinary Thursday, she would be losing her mind because she was behind schedule, but today, she just felt like coasting. It all started with the morning. Everyone crawled out of bed around noon—no alarms, no wake-up calls. They just got up when they felt like it. (Cordelia hadn’t done that since her last sleepover two years ago and had forgotten how great it was.) Mike had been the last one to slink out of his room. He’d looked like an eighteen-wheeler had parked on top of him for the night, but at least he’d had the decency to beg Cordelia for her forgiveness, which she gave without hesitation. Everything seemed to be back to normal when they dropped Mike off at his apartment. It was after two when they’d hit the road, and Jake was still at the wheel of the Charger, chugging along at speeds that would even agitate elderly drivers.

  She’d called Paul once they’d departed to let him know what time they’d be arriving. She’d calculated the distance on her Treo and double-checked it online. Yet once they entered the depths of Death Valley, she was a little worried that they might never make it. At first glance, it seemed as if they were in the capital of Desolationville, population zero. The area had this eerie quality that made it both beautiful and ominous at the same time.

  But as they kept going, Cordelia’s concern began to drift off into the cirrus clouds that were scattered in the crisp indigo sky. They drove by mountain ranges—the gigantic size of them made Cordelia feel really small and insignificant and even a bit lost. Then the car made its way through long stretches of road that were surrounded by either the sandy, golden desert or jagged rock formations that spread out across the canyons. There were natural gorges and huge craters that might have been created by volcanic activity many, many years ago. Every time they turned a corner, some unique piece of breathtaking scenery was just waiting to befall Cordelia’s eyes. She couldn’t predict what was on the horizon or make everything fit into some perfect organized structure or overanalyze any of it. For once in her life, that was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. It was unbelievably great.

  Too bad the Charger had to ruin it all.

  “Do you hear that?” Jake asked suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Funny noises. Coming from the engine.”

  Cordelia listened. There was a clanking sound she hadn’t noticed before. “Is that bad?”

  “Well, it’s certainly not good.” He leaned over the wheel and peered into the distance. “I think that’s a rest stop off this service road up ahead. Hope we can make it.”

  So did Cordelia. Breaking down in a place called Death Valley was anything but appealing. The glare on the windshield was particularly strong, so the last thing they needed was to be stuck out in the intense heat.

  The clanking was getting really loud by the time the car pulled up in front of what Jake had thought was a rest stop. Unfortunately, upon closer inspection, the building seemed abandoned, and there wasn’t another car in sight.

  Then Cordelia heard the worst sound of all—there was only absolute silence after the Charger sputtered to a complete halt.

  Jake exhaled loudly. “Shit.”

  He stomped on the accelerator and tried to start the engine again. But nothing happened. He did it several more times in a row, but that didn’t help either.

  “You don’t want to flood it,” Cordelia warned him.

  There was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve got this under control.”

  Figures he’d dismiss my advice, she thought.

  Jake took out the keys from the ignition, put them back in, and tried to start the car once more. When there was no response, he pounded his fist against the wheel with all his might. “Goddamn it!”

  Now Cordelia was really nervous. Jake was so anxious, she was certain he might turn psychotic. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. The air-conditioning had only been off for a couple of minutes and Cordelia was already sweltering. She followed Jake out of the Charger, hoping that would help cool her off. But it was even worse in the open because there were no trees to shield them from the scorching sun. The heat was going to her head quickly; she could barely think straight.

  “We’ll have to call for a tow.” Jake wiped his brow with the bottom of his shirt and ran his hands through his dampening dark hair. “Good thing I didn’t blow all my winnings from last night, because this is going to cost a ton. Do you have your phone on you?”

  “Hold on, I’ll get it.” She reached back into the Charger and grabbed it from her bag. Meanwhile, Jake opened the hood of the car, b
ut then just stood there and stared at it wistfully.

  “It’s probably something really simple,” he said after a moment of contemplation.

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe the battery is run down and we just need someone with cables to give us a charge.” He looked down the empty road and sighed.

  “Well, in the meantime, I’ll call information for a tow truck,” Cordelia said. But when she tried to dial out on her Treo, she knew she wouldn’t be making any calls for a while. “Holy Christ.”

  “What?”

  “I forgot to recharge it last night!”

  “That’s okay,” Jake said. “Given everything that went on, I’m not surprised.”

  “Well, I am. I never forget stuff like this. Never,” Cordelia declared.

  “Don’t get all worked up, Cordy. My phone is in my backpack.” Jake started toward the rear of the car.

  She was starting to feel faint. “But how will we access any of the directions? Or the maps or the itineraries?”

  “We’ll just have to improvise.” Jake fiddled with his key ring and popped the trunk.

  Improvise? Cordelia was distracted by a welcoming noise. “Wait, someone’s coming!” she cried out. Sure enough, a small truck was careening around the bend. “I’ll flag him down!”

  She heard Jake yell something, but she didn’t want to miss this chance at getting out of this mess. Besides, she was just improvising, like he’d said. She dashed to the side of the road, waved her arms wildly, and the truck slowed down. As it rolled to a stop, she flashed Jake a triumphant look as if she had saved the day.

  Jake wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was watching the man who came out of the truck.

  “Howdy.”

  Cordelia turned to the skinny man in the grease-stained sleeveless T-shirt that read, WHO FARTED? She caught a whiff of his breath (which resembled Mike’s from the night before), so she stepped back a bit to put some distance between them. “We’re having car trouble. Do you think you could help us?”

  The man strode past her and over to Jake, who still stood by the open trunk. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jake said. “I think it might be the battery.”

  The man’s eyes darted from Cordelia to the car, then back to Jake. “Might be something else,” he said. “Start it up.”

  Jake looked doubtful. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to try again.” He went around the car to the driver’s side. But as soon as he was inside, the man shoved Cordelia to the ground, grabbed Jake’s backpack out of the trunk, and sprinted toward his truck.

  “Stop!” Cordelia shrieked. She lunged to grab the thief’s leg, but he slipped out of her grasp.

  Jake jumped out of the car just as the man leaped into his truck. Luckily for the criminal, he had no trouble starting his beat-up clunker, and by the time Jake got to the road, all that was left of the Good Samaritan was a cloud of dust.

  Jake let out a howl of obscenities while trying to gasp for air. “That dickhead!”

  “Oh my God, Jake. I’m so sorry.”

  “He has my phone. And my wallet!” Jake crouched down and put his head in his hands for a minute before leaping up and blowing his top. “What the hell did you think you were doing, flagging down a total stranger like that? He could have killed us!”

  “You were the one who said we could fix the car if someone came along with cables!” Cordelia shot back. How could Jake possibly blame this on her? She was only trying to help.

  “Yeah, under normal circumstances! If there were plenty of cars going by and we weren’t in the freaking desert!”

  “Well, you didn’t say that!”

  “Does everything have to be spelled out for you? Molly always said you were the smart one!”

  “Apparently not smart enough to avoid getting into your crappy car in the first place!” Cordelia yelled.

  “Hey, I was doing you a favor!” Jake snarled.

  “Go to hell!” she screamed.

  “You know what, Cordelia? You suck!”

  “No, you suck!”

  She wanted nothing more than to storm out of there and never look back. Jake was being such an insufferable ass! But she had nowhere to storm to—she was stranded just as much as Jake was. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes, the big fat drippy ones that she used to shed when devastating things happened. (Like when she was ten and Molly borrowed her Palm Pilot and left it on the bus and two days later, her dad took her to the beach and her precious glow-in-the-dark yellow Frisbee got carried away in the crashing waves. Hence, big fat drippy tears.)

  She tried really, really hard to hold them back, but they just continued to stream down her cheeks. Stupid Jake! She should never have gotten into his car in the first place. No, it was her fault. She shouldn’t have lost all her money. Why had she tried to impress Jake? Is that what she’d been doing? Why did she even care what he thought? And now she’d gotten his money stolen.

  To make matters worse, she thought she’d been making some progress with Jake last night at the hotel. It seemed like they had almost been on the road to actually being friends. The night before, they didn’t just force themselves to get along—they just kind of jelled, like they were comfortable and at ease. Maybe that’s what Molly and Jake had felt toward each other. And maybe that’s how she should feel toward Paul. But if that were the case, she wouldn’t be so upset about Jacob Stein being mad at her or care that he was seeing her act like an emotional freak show. But she did care. She cared more than she knew she ought to. So she turned away from him and pulled her hair in front of her face. The thick strands of blond hair stuck to her skin and created some pretty decent camouflage. It was the only good thing to come out of the situation.

  However, no matter how much Cordelia tried to hide it, she knew that he knew she was crying. She thought she had lost it all at the roulette wheel, but she’d never been more wrong in her life. Now, she really had nothing left, not even her pride.

  Ten minutes and five gallons of tears later, Cordelia was officially burning up. The sun had gone from blazing to blistering, so she had proceeded to sweat through her pale blue striped Lacoste polo shirt. Her lips were in desperate need of some L’Occitane shea butter tinted lip balm, but that would mean going back into the car and facing a very bitter and ragged Jake. He’d locked himself in the Charger and begun pounding on the dashboard with his drumsticks after she’d cried for about 120 seconds. Which was fine by her. She didn’t need his sympathy anyway. What she did need was water and lots of it. She’d packed a few liters in the car once she knew they were going to be driving through Death Valley—according to the brochure she picked up at the hotel on their way out, a lot of people become light-headed and dehydrated because of the heat, so it was recommended that travelers bring lots of water reserves in case of emergencies.

  Cordelia was no idiot. This was a crisis. A flare-gun, hazard-lights, smoke-signal crisis. The water was in the backseat behind Jake. She needed liquid sustenance or else she would die. It was pretty clear that she’d have to interact with him again, even though it would hurt every fiber of her being.

  Screw him, she thought. If he wants to be a jackass, then fine.

  She strode up to the car and halted when she reached the driver’s side. She saw the bottles of water on the floor behind Jake’s seat. She was about to knock on his window and ask him to get up off his rump and do something useful like get her some water when the door opened and Jake came out…

  …without his shirt on. Or his pants. Just a pair of plaid boxer shorts, stuck to his muscular thighs.

  Cordelia jumped back and yelped. “What are you doing?”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Grow up, Cordy. We’re in the center of an inferno and I’d prefer not to sweat to death.”

  She tried to avert her eyes, but it was like trying not to look at Us Weekly or In Touch when she stood in line with her mom at the grocery store—it was virtually impossible to resist. Jake could be the poster child
for the Build Your Perfect Hot Guy Company, if such a thing should ever exist. She couldn’t help but notice before, very casually, that he had been working out—his clothes fit more snugly than they used to and he seemed to walk with more purpose. When he’d dated Molly, he’d kind of slunk around as if he’d wanted to go unnoticed. But Cordelia had to admit, she detected a bunch of stuff about Jake’s body, like the fact that it was a carbon copy of Matthew McConaughey’s. His pectoral muscles had her completely hypnotized.

  “Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

  Cordelia looked over his shoulders so she could actually concentrate on what she would say, instead of salivating over how broad they were. “Like you give a crap.”

  Jake sighed and put his hands on his waist, drawing attention to his hip area, which was also mind-numbingly sexy. “Listen, I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. I was just angry.”

  “Whatever.” She shrugged.

  “I mean it, Cordy. That wasn’t cool.”

  She could tell by the strained expression on his face that he did mean it, and that by the sturdiness of his legs, he had taken up long distance running, much to the delight of girls everywhere. “It’s okay, you were just…a jerk.”

  “I know,” he said remorsefully. “But you did something really risky and it backfired…again.”

  Cordelia was about to defend herself, but she bit her lip. “I suppose I should have thought things through a little better.”

  “It was gutsy, though,” he said, smiling. “Dumb, but gutsy.”

  She could feel herself softening a bit, like she was letting her guard down. “Well, I packed the car full of water when we left the hotel. How’s that for being prepared and practical and focused on worst-case scenarios?”

  Jake put both hands behind his head and laughed. Even his armpits looked amazing. “It’s true. Without you, we’d be in much worse shape.”