Somewhere Only We Know(15)

Fern was still poring over a menu and staring at all the food photographs. “There are no hamburgers here.”

The server gave a flat smile under his handlebar mustache. “We don’t have hamburgers. Only snacks and desserts.”

Fern’s eyebrows rose. “Dessert. Hm, that’s novel.” I looked down to avoid cracking up. Her old-fashioned words and phrases always popped up at the weirdest moments.

After a quick flip through the menu, she looked up at the server. “I’ll have the ice cream sundae, please.”

Sleazy McJazzy rolled his eyes and lifted his chin in confirmation with the server.

Musicians were the freaking worst.

He started to chat with Fern and I glanced down at my phone. Charlie was texting about meeting up.

Uh … about that. I kind of met this girl and she’s eating ice cream right now.

Charlie’s text came swifter than anything: WHAT

Then: Why is she eating ice cream? Wait never mind. FORGET I EXIST AND ENJOY THE NIGHT BRO

No one got more excited for this stuff than Charlie. He liked to play the womanizer part, but I was pretty sure he was a romantic at heart. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and glanced over at Fern and the guy again. He was speaking low into Fern’s ear.

It wasn’t that loud in here, buddy.

The sundae arrived and Fern dug into it like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. Weeks.

“Whoa,” I said. “You’re gonna get brain freeze.”

She paused in her inhalation to look at me before her face scrunched up. “Ow!” She clutched her forehead, knocking the cap off her face. It wasn’t nice to laugh at her suffering, but I couldn’t help it. She started laughing, too, whipped cream smudged on her chin.

McJazzy didn’t seem to like this laughter business and leaned into Fern, his cheek practically touching hers. “That looks good. Can I try some?”

God bless Fern, she handed him her spoon. “Why not?”

He looked down at the spoon for a second. “How about you feed me?”

Gross. I tensed, my patience growing thin with this guy.

Fern let out a big burp in response and he recoiled away from her. I burst out laughing again and got up. “On that note, I think we need to head out!”

She got up to follow me. “Okay. Bye!” She waved at everyone. McJazzy got up and grabbed her arm. Oh, God. Was I going to have to fight this grown-ass man?

“Why are you letting this kid drag you around?” McJazzy asked, sneering at me. “Is he your brother or something?”

Fern looked down at his hand and extricated herself. Hard. Slapping him away. “No, he’s not my brother. And you need ta’ chill!” she bellowed. “You’re like, old.”

Okay, now this was going from funny to a potential scene.

“Fern,” I said, reaching for her, but I drew my hand back, thinking better of it.

She spun around and poked me in the chest. Hard. “Hey, Jack? You’re cute but need to like, relax!”

I was cute?

Then she kicked McJazzy in the shin, lightly. “And you need to stop creeping on me!”

Holy crap. The expression on McJazzy’s face was priceless. But the amusement was short-lived because when I looked back at Fern, she was standing on her tippy toes, reaching for one of the butterflies on the ceiling.

Noooooo.

She snapped one off its string and it was like someone switched off the life in the entire bar. It went silent.

Oh, crap.

Fern didn’t notice. Instead, she held the butterfly between her fingers, examining it with open pleasure.

I rushed over to her, hoping that no one working here had noticed. There was a hard-and-fast rule at this bar: If you touched one of the butterflies, you were kicked out. I knew because I had done it before in the past.

The burly bouncer reached her before I did. “Miss, you need to leave.”

She held the butterfly up to his nose. “Were these killed on purpose? To display here for our viewing pleasure? Like barbarians?!” Her tone managed to be both accusatory and curious.

The bouncer swatted her hand away. “How old are you?”

“What does it matter? I want to talk to the manager!” She started to reach for another butterfly.

I grabbed her hand. “Fern! Let’s get out of here!”

The bouncer looked at me. “Are you going to take responsibility for bringing a minor in here?”

The whole bar was watching us now. Great. I switched to my “Aw shucks, who, me?” expression and lifted my hands. “Sir, please excuse my sister—” I heard McJazzy yell out, “I knew it!” I gritted my teeth but kept smiling. “She’s not well. Look at her shoes.”

The bouncer glanced down, but his expression remained unamused. While his attention was at her feet, Fern snatched another butterfly off the ceiling. People gasped and the bouncer’s head shot up. “That’s it. I’m calling the police.”

Suddenly, Fern lurched forward, pushing the bouncer. “Aren’t you overreacting?” Her words were slurred and her eyes were starting to close.

So I did the only thing I could do. I yanked her into me, brought my lips to her ear, and whispered, “Run.”





CHAPTER ELEVEN


LUCKY