Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(30)

But there’s still a question I can’t ignore: What has Farren been involved in recently? What is he involved in now? Something illegal, I have to assume, based on how secretive he is whenever the subject comes up. Those huge sums of money he pulls down certainly make things look even more suspicious.

Contemplating all of this, I sigh. Farren looks over, his expression giving away his curiosity. But before he can ask what I’m sighing about, I lower my paperback and say, “I’m tired of reading.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Are you hungry?”

I nod once. “It has been a while since we’ve eaten.”

“Say no more,” Farren says brightly.

It’s obvious he’s trying to make up for the last hour of silence and the uncomfortable vibes in the car. He takes the next exit we come to, and we find a sandwich shop just down the road. Farren orders a massive deli sandwich, roast beef and cheese on pumpernickel bread, with just about every topping and condiment available.

While the lady behind the counter works on Farren’s masterpiece, I tell the girl taking orders that I’ll have the same. “Just no mustard,” I add.

Farren snickers under his breath, and I say, “What? I’m hungry, okay?”

“That’s fine, Essa. I’ll just be surprised if you can finish it.”

Ten minutes later, we’re back in the SUV, eating our massive sandwiches. And sure enough, Farren’s supposition comes to pass.

I lower my sandwich to the wrapper in my lap and mutter, “Ugh, I’m done. It’s delicious, but I can’t eat another bite.”

Farren glances over at my half-eaten roast beef and cheese. He laughs and offers to finish it for me. He sure has a hearty appetite, I think as I hand him the rest of my sandwich. I have to wonder if all his appetites are this hearty.

The flush on my face must clue him in as to where my thoughts are drifting, for he asks all too knowingly, “What are you thinking about, Essalin?”

“Oh, nothing,” I fib. Clearing my throat, I add, “Let’s talk about something, though.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, hesitantly. “What do you want to talk about?”

I shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. Anything, really.”

Farren finishes the sandwich I couldn’t eat, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and then suggests, “Why don’t you tell me how you met my sister?”

“She never told you?” I know Farren and Haven share a lot, so this is a surprise.

“Well, she did tell me she met you at freshman orientation.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Farren gathers our food wrappers and napkins and stuffs them in the bag everything came in. His attention returns to me when he’s finished.

“Okay, so you met at freshman orientation,” he says. “That doesn’t explain one bit how you and she became such good friends.”

“Are you asking if there was, like, a defining moment or something?”

I’ve posed my question slowly, tentatively, because there absolutely was a defining moment in my friendship with Haven. But it’s not an easy story to tell.

Farren reads things so well that I can’t fool him. He settles back in his seat and says, “There was a defining moment, wasn’t there?”

“Yes,” I admit, frowning.

Farren has unknowingly touched on an experience from freshman year that I’d rather forget. But, for as much as I try to avoid recalling that fateful Halloween night, I find I now want to share it with this man. And I should. It’s a story of how his sister saved my ass.

I take a deep breath, exhale, and begin…

“After Haven and I hit it off at that early orientation, which was held when we were still seniors in high school, we kept in touch. We talked and texted all the time throughout that summer. Fall of freshman year we picked right back up where we’d left off. We’d arranged to share the same dorm room, and we hung out all the time. People sometimes questioned how we could be friends. I mean, after all, Haven was so much more popular than me. But you know how she is. She made sure I never felt left out.”

“She’s always been like that,” Farren says quietly.

I glance over at him. His head is leaned back on the headrest, and he looks sad. A part of me longs to comfort him, but I know he wants to hear this story.

I continue, “Well, anyway, she got invited to a lot of parties, like the very best of the best. She invited me often, and sometimes I tagged along, but other times I chose to stay back in the dorms and study. Halloween that year, though, there was one party everyone wanted to go to. It was an annual event, held every October thirty-first at some rich student’s parents’ house. It was kind of legendary. You had to go at least once. Anyway, the kid was a senior that year, so it was going to be my first and only chance to go.”

“And you wanted to go?” Farren inquires.

“Yeah, to that party, yes. I very much wanted to go to that one.”

When I fall silent, lost in the memory for a minute, Farren prompts, “So you and Haven went to the party?”

“We did. And it was a costume party, of course, with it being Halloween and all.”

“Costume party, huh?”

Farren appears curious, and I figure he’s about to ask about my costume. Oh no.