I was going to have to go back.
I sank to the sidewalk, leaning against a mailbox.
Maybe Noel would run down the street after me.
Was he coming? His coat flapping behind him as he called, “Ruby, wait! Let me explain!”
Was he?
No.
He wasn’t coming.
Each minute that passed made it clearer.
It wasn’t romantic or intense to have bolted.
It was just mental.
Meghan’s Jeep pulled up alongside where I was sitting. She popped the door and called, “I’ve got your jacket. Get in.”
“I’m never leaving this mailbox,” I moaned.
“You have to leave the mailbox.”
“No, I don’t. The mailbox is my only friend. It will protect me against pod-robots and my own lack of sanity. Hello, darling mailbox. You are my savior and protector.”
“Leave the mailbox, Roo. I’m your friend.”
“ ’Cause you feel sorry for me. Mailbox doesn’t feel sorry for me. Mailbox admires my ambulatory legs and opposable thumbs. Mailbox worships me and will lay down her life for me.”
“Roo.”
“Mailbox wants you to know that I’m so sorry I left you with the check.”
“Oh, shut up!” cried Meghan. “I put it on the credit card. You know my mom pays it for me every month. She never even looks at the bill.”
“Seriously? I did not know that, actually.”
“Can we have this conversation in the car? Please?”
I sniffed. “Where’s Noel?”
“Driving Hutch home.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“He asked if you were okay.”
“What did you say?”
“I said obviously you were
“And he said?”
“Will you get in the car, Roo?”
“Do you think he’s turned into a pod-robot like Jackson did?”
“No.”
“He seemed like a pod-robot. He didn’t even hug me.”
“Will you just get in the car already?”
“I love you, mailbox. You have been very, very good to me,” I said, patting it. “I will come back and visit you often, even if it means I have to hide from the staff of Snappy Dragon, who will probably pour soup on my head if I ever set foot near their restaurant again.”
“Get in!” barked Meghan. “You have ceased to be amusing.”
I got in.
The girl had my house keys.
Meghan pulled into traffic and said: “So Noel was all, ‘I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.’ ”
“What?”
“He sat down at the table and ate a fortune cookie and said he didn’t know what to do. Then even Hutch said he should go after you, and Noel put his head down on the table.”
“Why?”
“He said, ‘I can’t deal right now.’ ” Meghan shrugged. “So I got the check.”
Ag.
“I don’t know what his problem is,” Meghan went on. “He needs to go to boyfriend school.”
I sniffed again. “Maybe. But I can’t expect him to go running after me when he just got into town and I’m crying like an infant and my parents hate me and I made a scene in the restaurant.”
