Oh crap, I wonder how much he actually heard. Echo was whispering like he’d hear her if she spoke like she usually did.
That very same thought that had Echo so worried had already crossed my mind a few times in the short time he’d been looking at me. I just hadn’t said it yet, mentally or otherwise.
He slowly lowered his hand, leaned in, and smiled, “Are you going to let me pass, or am I gonna have to stand here and pee my pants?”
A wave of relief washed over me, and I stepped aside to let him pass. He spun around to close the door and said, “I got us some pizza, and already paid for it. Can you grab it on your way back to the car?”
I didn’t want to linger, that would be suspicious—like I was waiting for him to notice something. “Okay,” was all I said and strolled back toward the counter to get the pizza box that was sitting there. The truckers were nowhere in sight. I assumed they’d moved on, which was fine by me. After retrieving the box I glanced around the quaint, small-town, gas station and walked through the door with the bell jingling behind me. If the humidity in Oklahoma was bad, then Louisiana’s humidity was ridiculous. Stepping outside felt like stepping into a steamy bathroom. My T-shirt stuck to the middle of my back in a matter of seconds as I crossed the pavement to the car. I hopped into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and cranked the AC to full blast.
He heard something; you know he did, Eden.
No, I think he just missed it. I need to stop talking out loud just because I think we’re alone. I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear anything, though.
Then you are stupider than I give you credit for! A blind person could see the questions he had in his eyes, Eden! He didn’t ask them, though. If I had to guess I would say he is waiting. Hmmm, I wonder why? Any ideas, Eden? Echo's voice carried a note of disdain over my apparent ignorance.
The smell of the pizza wafted through my nose, seducing me with its meaty scent. I opened the box and all but drooled over the sinful sight of grease caked pepperoni. I’d folded the thin crust of the first slice into a “U” shape and was halfway to my mouth when Drew rapped on the window. He startled me so badly, the pizza landed face down on my dash splattering cheese and pizza sauce all over the vinyl. Even with the window closed and the AC cranked up to high, I could still hear the roar of his laughter. At least one of us was amused—I was just pissed. I opened the driver’s door forcefully on purpose, and it almost knocked him over.
“What was that for,” he hollered in between chuckles as I got out of the car.
I ignored him for the moment and walked over to get some window rags so I could clean up the mess he’d made me make. As I walked back toward the car, I stopped briefly to glare at him. “Sometimes you just deserve to be knocked off that prank pulling pedestal of yours.” He’d made me so damn mad. I continued on past and cleaned up the mess.
“Sorry—damn,” he mumbled as he washed the bug covered windshield, “I was just messing with you. It’s not like I knew that was gonna happen!”
When he was done clearing the windshield of dead bugs, he threw the squeegee back into the water and sat in the driver’s seat, which made it clear he still wanted to drive. So, I walked around and got in the passenger’s seat—again. We followed Dad and Drew’s mom back onto I-49 south, and I passed him pizza until he held up his hand on the fourth slice.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” he said with his mouth full. “Hey, Eden, I didn’t mean to scare you back there, not that bad anyway. I’m sorry.”
It was hard to stay mad at him when I could hear the sincerity so clearly in his voice. “It’s ok.” I looked out the window as the blurs of thin trunked evergreens passed by. The car was quiet for a few minutes more, but I didn’t let the silence fool me because I could feel the tension that bounced off Drew.
“Eden, who were you talking to in the bathroom,” Drew finally asked.
I stopped breathing as my panic rose. How was I going to get around this without lying? I heard Echo say, “Uh oh,” in my head as if that would help me somehow. I scrambled for a way that I could word the explanation without it being a lie. I was starting to lose hope when Echo finally said something I could use.
Tell him you were talking to a friend. He will likely assume you were on the phone, and that is him assuming not you lying. It technically isn’t a lie; we are friends—well, kind of.
I took a deep breath, laughed, and said, “Oh, that—I was just talking to a friend.”
Much to my dismay, it came out sounding forced, and I was pretty sure Drew picked up on that. He wasn’t stupid.
He looked at me cross-eyed and then returned his gaze to the road, “Really,” he asked sarcastically.
“Yes, really!” I was starting to get irritated.
“You know that’s funny because your phone was in the car.” His gaze left the road, and he looked at me squarely. “I know because you left it in the passenger seat—in the sun when we stopped. So I put it in the middle console so it wouldn’t overheat.”
