Lying Out Loud(47)

“Well, we can’t take your car,” he said, picking up her duffel bag and tossing it into the trunk. Although, is it called a trunk when it’s at the front of the car? I was really confused about this, but it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask. “You still haven’t gotten that heater fixed. And I know Sonny’s car is out of the shop, but do you really trust that thing to get us across state lines?” He picked up my little suitcase and shoved it into the trunk, too. It was a really small trunk, and I wasn’t sure all of our stuff would fit.

“What about Amy’s car?” Bianca asked.

Wesley put the last bag into the trunk and, with what seemed like great effort, shut the hood. “Too late,” he said. “We’re already packed.”

Bianca groaned. “You’re such an ass.”

“An ass with a nice car.”

“A nice, impractical car.”

“And having a broken heater for three years is practical?”

“I’m hardly ever home to drive the thing!”

I glanced over at Amy, who — rather pointedly, if I may say so — did not look at me.

Since Bianca and I were the vertically challenged members of this foursome, we were placed in the, as previously noted, tiny-as-hell backseat. My knees were cramping within ten minutes, and we had a long way to go.

And in a car that small, there was no hiding the tension between two best friends who were not on speaking terms. Particularly when the other two passengers were of a bantering nature.

“Oh my God, Wesley,” Bianca said. “We are not listening to this shit all the way to Tennessee.”

“Billy Joel is hardly ‘shit,’ thank you.”

“I like Billy Joel, but not seven hours of Billy Joel.” Bianca turned to me. “He’s been obsessed with ‘New York State of Mind’ for months. I can’t anymore. Sonny, Amy, back me up.”

But Amy just shrugged, and I felt too weird arguing with either Bianca or Wesley, even if it was in jest. My gut was telling me to keep my mouth shut for once. At least around Amy. My foolish hope was that if I was quiet long enough, she’d cool down about last night’s little discovery. I didn’t want to fan the flames by saying something unintentionally infuriating.

“Silence?” Wesley asked. “Really? From you two?”

“Seriously,” Bianca said. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m fine,” Amy said. But there was that little inflection, that slightly clipped tone, that told me she definitely wasn’t.

“Me, too,” I mumbled.

“Okay …,” Wesley said.

I noticed his and Bianca’s eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

This went on forever. And Bianca and Wesley just didn’t know when to give it a rest.

“No, that wasn’t our exit, Bianca. I’m positive.”

“Excuse me? Who in this car has actually been to this cabin before?”

“And who has the worse sense of direction?”

“I do not.”

“You got lost in midtown Manhattan. This year. You’ve been going to school there for how long?”

“It could happen to anyone.”

“The streets are numbered,” Wesley pointed out. “It’s a grid.”

“I might trust you more if you used the GPS on your phone to get us there.”


“I can’t. The voice is annoying.”

“Your voice is annoying,” Bianca snorted.

“Aw. I love you, too.”

She laughed. “Okay, let’s ask the rest of the car. Ladies, who do you trust to get you to the cabin safely? The person who has been there before —”

“And who gets lost in her own dorm building.”

“Shut up. That’s not even true.” Bianca cleared her throat. “The person who has actually been there, or the cocky jerk who won’t even use a GPS?”

But all they got were shrugs.

They made a few more attempts before finally giving up on convincing Amy or me to speak.

They talked a little more, but eventually even they fell silent, swallowed up by the potent blend of hostility and unease filling the cab of the Porsche.

Even as my knees ached, I stayed as still as possible, worried my movements may jostle the back of Amy’s seat. It was dumb, I knew. It wasn’t like nudging her a little to get comfortable would make her hate me any more than she already did, but the fear had crept up inside of me and wrapped itself around my chest like a boa constrictor.

The wide, flat highways eventually turned into narrow, winding back roads that twisted their way through rolling, faintly blue hills. My anxiety and aching knees aside, it was a beautiful drive.

At long, long last, Wesley made a turn onto a gravel driveway that twisted through tall trees before coming to a stop in front of a quaint little cabin.

It was small but well kept. The front porch had a swing in one corner, and a layer of snow covered the roof. Honestly, it looked like the picture you’d find on a Hallmark Christmas card.

“Oh, thank God,” I heard Bianca mutter under her breath as Wesley shut off the ignition.

Ditto, I thought.

The four of us climbed out of the car and retrieved our stuff from the front-trunk. Bianca found the hidden key beneath the doormat and unlocked the door.