Don't Fail Me Now(34)

Instinctively, I want to side with my sister and hate on Leah for pretty much everything she says. But I can’t begrudge her wanting to sleep in a real bed. I want that so badly it literally hurts—there’s a mad ache in my joints that I know can only be soothed by sinking into a mattress and letting my body rest, even if my brain can’t. So it’s with genuine sympathy that I break the bad news to her.

“About that,” I say. “The thing is, we have to sleep in the car.”

“WHAT?”

“We can’t afford hotels,” I shrug apologetically.

“Yes we can,” she cries. “Tim, don’t you have, like, $4,000?”

I look at Tim expectantly, holding my breath. I haven’t asked him outright about money yet because I don’t want him to feel like I did when Aunt Sam cornered me . . . but if he’s loaded, that will solve a lot of problems, and fast.

“No,” he says, grimacing in the glow of his phone screen. “Those are savings bonds from my grandpa, Lee. They don’t mature until I’m twenty-one.”

“So . . . we have to wear the same clothes every day for a week without showering?” Leah says in disbelief, her voice rising with every syllable. “We have to sleep in here, all five of us? Like homeless people?”

“Dibs on the trunk!” Denny says again, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“It’s not like being homeless,” Tim says.

“Yeah, we’re not going to an alley behind a Walmart, we’re going to find a campground,” I explain. “Tim, can you search for free camp sites near . . .” I squint up at the green road sign flashing past in the glare of our headlights. “Terre Haute?”

“Wait, camping? We’re camping?” Leah says, leaning forward. “Do we at least get tents?”

“I want a tent!” Denny says. Great, the Gospel of Leah is spreading.

I shake my head. “Unless it’s raining, some of us can just sleep outside. We’ve got blankets.”

“No!” Leah says. “I can’t—I mean, we have to stay in a hotel. I never would have come if I knew we weren’t going to have basic stuff like clothes and beds. That’s so ghetto.”

“Shut. Up,” Cass snaps.

“She does have a point,” Tim says. “It’s going to be pretty rough. Maybe we could just find a cheap motel, something really low-end.”

“Sure,” I say. “If you want to spend the rest of the week illegally siphoning gas with your mouth, then by all means, let’s spring for a hotel room.”

“Ohhhh-kay,” he exhales. “Exactly how much money do we have?”

I bristle. “We don’t have money,” I say. “I have $276.” I signal right and take the exit ramp. “How much cash do you have?”

“Maybe ten bucks,” Tim says sheepishly, quickly adding, “but I bought lunch.”

“No one asked you to.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“You’re right, ’cause I was too busy trying to figure out how to cover your asses.”

“You guys!” Leah cries from the backseat.

“We wouldn’t have to cover anything if you hadn’t showed up at our school and begged us to come with you,” Tim says.

“You guys,” Leah repeats.

“Please just shut up,” Cass moans. But I can’t drop it.

“I don’t remember begging you to come anywhere,” I say.

“Well, I guess we both made mistakes,” Tim says.

“I wanna go home,” Denny whimpers.

“Guys!” Leah shouts. “Just be quiet, I know what to do.” I hear rustling and then a magnetic snap. In the rearview mirror, I see Leah proudly pull a shiny gold credit card from a pink leather wallet. “I have Jeff’s AmEx!” she cries gleefully.

“We can’t use that,” Tim sighs. “It’s supposed to be for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency,” she says, totally serious. And I guess, technically, dictionary definition–wise, she’s right. This is an unexpected, urgent, and possibly dangerous situation. Especially since at this juncture we’re all ready to smack each other senseless.

“Won’t they get the bill?” I ask, hating myself a little for how much I want to cave and let her use her magical plastic get-out-of-anything-free card.

“Yeah, but not till next month,” she says. “It’ll be too late for them to do anything about it.” She turns to Denny. “Wouldn’t you rather have cable TV and a big down comforter than sleep next to old gas cans in the trunk?”

“They have TV?” Denny perks up at this. He’s never been to a hotel. None of us have, except for the one time we visited Mom during the years that she worked at an Embassy Suites.

“Don’t get too excited,” I say. “Even if that card can pay for it, nobody’s gonna rent a room to five underage kids with no parents.”

“It’s not like they’ll arrest us,” Leah groans. “We might as well try.”

“Maybe we should,” Tim says. “I mean, we’ll never know otherwise, right?”

“It’s the law,” I say. “That’s how we know.” Devereaux rule #3: Keep your head down. Don’t go looking for trouble that can’t find you on its own.