“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We hung up, and I handed the phone back to Zev.
I had really not meant to blurt that out in the car. It felt so real now. Zev and I were over. Done. It shouldn’t matter that people knew, but it felt weird. My head was spinning. And the others …
The tension in the car was palpable. This was all my doing. I was so embarrassed. So much for not causing a scene. I couldn’t even make it to New York without losing it. Great job, Sari. Now, I’d made things horrible for everyone.
As each second ticked away, I felt like I was suffocating in the silence. Should I say something? Should I explain? Apologize? Promise them they’ll never have to deal with me again after today? I needed to do something.
Dylan beat me to it.
“Dude, not cool,” he said to Zev.
“Yeah, man,” Fitz agreed.
“It wasn’t like…,” Zev started, but then just gave up. The look of warning Fitz was shooting him may have had something to do with it. Zev rested his head against the window and kept his focus outside.
I hoped he stayed that way.
Fitz twisted back to face me. He was about to say something, but then his eyes got wide and his attention snapped back to the front.
The car was spinning.
“Hold on!” Dylan called out.
He’d lost control. My feet pressed into the floor, my whole body clenched, and without even realizing it, I grabbed Zev’s arm.
This could be it. My mind raced. Zev. My family. My performance. I shouldn’t have yelled at my mom. She warned me to stay in Florida, I should have listened. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want Zev to die. Love, hate, fear, anger, and sadness—I felt it all. This was not supposed to be the end.
There was a loud prolonged screech, as we headed straight for the side of the road.
I was too stunned to scream.
I was jerked forward and back, and then we crashed into the guardrail.
THIRTY
“We’re okay, we’re okay,” Zev whispered into my hair.
His arms were wrapped around me, and my head was on his chest. “I got you. We’re fine. I love you, Sari.”
He had pulled me toward him as we swerved, and I had let him.
“How are you guys in front?” Zev asked.
“Okay,” Dylan answered. Fitz nodded in agreement.
I sat back up. I wasn’t hurt. I was alive. We all were. Thank God.
My breathing was loud and heavy, I couldn’t get it under control. I couldn’t calm down. I pushed Zev’s arm away from me and rocked myself back and forth.
“How are you guys?” Dylan asked.
“Fine,” I said. And then I broke down into tears.
I don’t know why. I wasn’t in pain, but I couldn’t stop.
“You’re all right,” Zev said, and kissed the top of my head. I pulled away, still sobbing.
I knew that, I knew I was all right. But it was just everything. The stress, the airport, the flight, the cheating, the heartbreak. I was overtired and upset, and the whole day just came pouring out of me.
“Sari?” Fitz asked.
“I’m fine,” I said louder than I intended and began crying harder.
Dylan got out to check the car. I needed out, too. I needed air.
“Move, please,” I told Zev. “I have to get out.”
“It’s pouring,” he said. “It was just a light bump. We’re safer in here.”
“Zev, I need to get out of this car.”
“Sari, with the traffic, we’re better off in here.”
I started banging my fists into his arm. “I don’t care. I want out. Let me out.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, and opened the door.
The rain slammed into me, I was drenched in seconds, but I could not get back in that car next to Zev. I moved toward the trunk and leaned against it, the rain mixing with my tears.
Zev followed. “Sari.”
“Go away, Zev.”
He put out his hand. “Come on.”
“Please, just leave me alone.” The sound of rain smacking pavement muffled my voice, but he heard me. He finally shook his head and got back inside the car.
I felt hollow. I leaned my head back, the rain rushing down, and screamed into the sky, my body convulsing in sobs.
“Hey, you’re going to be okay.” A pair of arms wrapped around me. It wasn’t Zev, it was Fitz. I let myself crumple into him. We just stood there like that in the storm until my blubbering passed. He didn’t say anything, he just squeezed me tight, letting me cry it out.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Take the front. I’ll sit in the back with him.”
“Really?” I didn’t know what to say. Fitz just kept doing all these amazingly nice things for me. Buying me a smoothie when he thought I needed one, getting me a ride to New York, and now this. I didn’t deserve it, but I was grateful for it.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Thank you.”
I walked around to the front passenger side and got in. I was a soggy mess. I pulled down the sun visor and checked myself in the mirror. All the makeup I had so carefully applied earlier this morning ran in streaks down my face. I looked worse than the sole survivor in a horror movie—the one who fought off dozens of zombies through a muddy swamp but somehow managed to prevail. That’s what I was going to have to do—prevail.
“Here,” Dylan said, handing me a tissue. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I just lost control. The car was hydroplaning, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. The car’s okay. I only grazed the rail. We should be fine. Are you fine?”
I wasn’t the only one spiraling out. Dylan seemed pretty shaken.
“I should never have told you guys to hang on,” he babbled on. “You know I read the best thing in situations like that is to stay loose. It’s why so many babies and drunk people survive accidents, they don’t stiffen up, they’re limber during impact.”
Fitz leaned over and put his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault. Take a breath. You did a good job. We’re all okay.”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling myself together for him. “You did everything right. You got us out of this safely. The roads are a mess; it wasn’t you.”
The tension in his muscles seemed to relax.
Fitz grabbed his phone and showed the screen to Dylan. “I looked up some hotels. There’s one right off that exit over there. Let’s stay there tonight.” He called up the directions. “See, it’s not even a mile. We’ll get back on the road in the morning when this is over. You’ll still make it to Gina with a ton of time.”
Dylan didn’t respond.
“Hey,” Fitz said, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “She’d rather you get there tomorrow and be safe.”
Dylan nodded.
I took a deep breath as my hands clenched around the tissue. Everything Fitz said made sense. I knew that. There was no arguing it. We could barely see the road in front of us. We’d already had a minor accident, and the weather was only getting worse. It wasn’t safe to continue, but I just wanted to get home.
I felt like I really was in a horror movie, stuck on a trip that would never end.
I buckled up, because I had no idea what I was in store for next.
THIRTY-ONE
“Dude, this looks like a really nice hotel,” Dylan said, when we pulled into the parking lot. “What are the prices like?”
Fitz shook his head. “Didn’t look. Guess we’re about to find out.”
Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like we could pick up and go somewhere else, the whole point was to get off the road as fast as possible. Making it to this place had been scary enough.
“Let’s get our stuff,” he said.
“My umbrella’s back there if you want it,” I told Fitz. I was already sopping, at this point I didn’t care if I used it or not.
“I don’t think it will do m
uch good. More trouble trying to keep it open. Let’s just try to get everything inside as fast as we can.”
I opened my door and slammed it shut quickly, and then opened the backside passenger door and grabbed Ruby. Fitz came over and helped me move Zev’s duffel and get my suitcase out. “I got it,” he said. “Just grab your backpack.”
Dylan passed it to me, and I started to run, heels and all. Wearing the shoes still felt like I was walking on hot coals, but they were pretty much glued to my feet at this point. I made it inside and rushed to the check-in desk, the others right beside me.
“Please tell me you have some rooms,” I said, rocking side to side, trying to momentarily relieve the pressure off each foot.
“You’re in luck, we do,” the chipper guy at the desk said. He didn’t comment about our appearance or the weather, he just tapped away on his computer.
“Thank God,” I said.
“How many do you need?” he asked.
I turned to the guys.
“Two?” Fitz said, “you can have one and the rest of us can share?”
Dylan nodded and Zev shrugged.
“Two,” I told the guy.
“Okay,” he said and punched some more keys. “That will be $453.10 total, including tax.”
“How much?!” I asked. I couldn’t afford half of that on my own. I couldn’t even afford it if we split it four ways. Especially since I wanted to give Dylan some gas money, too. “Hang on,” I told him.
I turned back to my travel party.
“What do you want to do?” Fitz asked.
He was leaving the decision up to me. Part of me just wanted to go back to the car for the night, while the other part wanted to say screw it and use my emergency credit card to get a room of my own. Practicality won out. Sleeping outside wasn’t really an option, and I couldn’t justify spending that kind of money, not when things were tight like they were. And it wasn’t like I was staying with three guys I was unsure about. Plus, Zev was there. While I hated him and didn’t trust him when it came to my heart or our relationship, I did when it came to everything else. “I guess we can all split one room. It makes the most sense.”
I turned back to the desk clerk and told him what we wanted. Well, not wanted, but needed. Behind me, Dylan said something about being hungry and how we should look for some food. Zev and Fitz agreed, but I refused to be a part of any conversation where Zev was involved. Even though I was starving.
Instead I made myself focus on taking in the lobby. It was pretty. Large crystal chandeliers, marble floors, leather couches, sleek design. Classy with a modern touch. Wasn’t how I expected to share my first hotel room with Zev. A couple of my friends had been talking about getting rooms for after prom. That seemed like a lifetime ago, though. Things had changed so much since then. Before it seemed exciting, thrilling, grown-up. Not like this.
The desk clerk finally finished and handed me the key cards. I took mine and handed the other three to Dylan. I didn’t want to risk my fingers brushing against Zev’s. I took my suitcase and headed to the elevator, leaving a trail of water behind me. I got on first and pressed the number six and waited in silence as the others filed in. I watched the floor numbers light up as we got higher, keeping my attention there instead of on my pain—both the emotional and the physical.
The door opened, and I led the way to our room. Once inside, I claimed the bed closest to the door. Fitz sat on the other one and Dylan threw his stuff next to him.
“Your girlfriend’s gonna be jealous,” Fitz told him.
Dylan snorted. “Of you or me?”
“You, definitely you,” Fitz answered.
They were laughing, but I saw nothing funny about this situation. I was still stuck with my ex. Dylan and Fitz might have been willing to share a bed, but I was not going to do the same with Zev, who was just standing there in the middle of the room, probably trying to figure out what to do. I was going to make that one easy for him.
“That’s you.” I pointed to the little sofa in front of the TV on the other side of the room from me by the window.
It was way too small for him, but he was going to have to deal. I’d been dealing with uncomfortable annoyances all day. He could suck it up.
“Anyone need the bathroom?” I asked.
After they all shook their heads no, I yanked off my shoes, grabbed my backpack and guitar, went to my newly appointed studio, and locked the door.
“Did she just take her guitar to the bathroom?” I heard Dylan ask.
“Whatever, man,” Fitz answered, “I’m not questioning it. I don’t want to see her cry again.”
They must have thought I was a complete mess.
The worst part is they weren’t wrong. Even now I was fighting tears.
Dropping my stuff on the ground and letting the cool tile soothe my aching feet, I leaned against the counter and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy again, I had makeup streaks again, and I basically looked downright miserable again. It was the theme of my week, and it needed to end now. I had a performance tomorrow night, and I had to be at the top of my game.
I turned on the shower, let it get nice and hot, and got inside.
The steady stream of water beating down my back felt relaxing. I lathered the shampoo in my hair and breathed in the lemon and sage scent. This was what I needed—to wash away the day, the week, and the memories of Zev.
A clean start, as my father would probably say.
I watched the suds and the water circle down the drain.
It was time to move forward.
THIRTY-TWO
I was planning on making the bathroom my own little studio and practice my set, but I was going to have to wait a little bit. The steam was so dense, I could barely see my own hand, and I didn’t want to take Ruby out of her case yet.
Instead I brushed my hair, and did some vocal warm-ups.
It was nice having a minute to myself, letting the rest of the world melt away.
But my moment of peace didn’t last long.
There was a knock on the door. “Sari?” Zev said.
Of course, it was him.
Why couldn’t he leave me alone? I couldn’t open the door even if I wanted to, I wasn’t dressed and the towel didn’t quite make it all the way around. It was okay on top, but there was a slight gap by my hips that revealed way too much. “What?” I snapped.
“Your mom’s texting again.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
I couldn’t believe she was still contacting him. Yes, I should have called her once we got to the hotel, but she didn’t know we stopped somewhere. As far as she was concerned we were still on the road, which meant even though she knew what happened with Zev, and how much it bothered me, it wasn’t enough to stop her from texting him. “I’ll take care of it,” I said.
I looked at my dress on the floor. It used to be my favorite. I was going to wear it tomorrow night. Not anymore, not even if it magically got perfectly pressed. It no longer felt lucky the way it used to. But for now, it looked like I was stuck putting it back on. It was that or smoothie-covered sweats, because I was going to have to leave the bathroom at some point, and no way I was asking Fitz or Dylan to go through my suitcase with all my dirty underwear and ask them to find me something else to wear. And I certainly wasn’t asking Zev for any help.
I put on the dress, spread a towel on the floor and sat down.
I grabbed my phone from my backpack. Holy crap, I had a lot of messages.
Stay calm, I reminded myself as I called my mom. I did not want to get myself worked up again. I needed to stay composed. I needed to unwind and prepare for my show, not get agitated.
“Sari, you got your phone back,” she said after she picked up.
Uh-uh, she wasn’t getting out of this that easy. “You said you wouldn’t text Zev anymore,” I reminded her.
“I didn’t.” There was a pause.
“He told me, Mom,” I said, rather even tempe
redly, if I do say so myself.
“It was your father.”
Really? Really? She was trying for a technicality? Wow. I guess next time they told me to be home by nine, I could just pretend I thought they meant 9:00 a.m. “Seriously, Mom? You knew what I meant.”
“Sari, we were worried. Audrey was saying how bad it is in Connecticut right now. She was wearing that hot-pink dress we love, by the way, but to my point, there were reports of accidents, and Dad and I got scared. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
I decided not to argue or tell her I had no idea what dress she was talking about, but I was definitely using this next time I needed a get-out-of-jail-free card. “I’m okay. We pulled over, and checked into a hotel. We just got here,” I threw in quickly, before she lambasted me for not telling her earlier. “The roads were bad, so we decided we’d leave for New York when it clears up tomorrow.” I left out the part about the accident. She was already paranoid enough about this trip, I didn’t need to give proof to her fears.
Not that that kept her from worrying about the other aspects of my travel adventure.
“You’re staying in a hotel room with three guys?” she asked. “Sari, I don’t like this.”
“You didn’t like me on the road, either.” I really couldn’t win with her.
I could imagine her frowning and the crease in her forehead as she furrowed her brow at my words.
“Why didn’t you get your own room?” she asked.
“Because it was expensive.”
“Sari, your safety is the most important thing. Your father and I will pay for it.”
I bit my tongue to keep from pointing out that had she and my dad let me change to an earlier flight when I wanted to, it would have cost only two hundred dollars, which was less than my own hotel room, and I’d already be home by now. “Mom, I’m safe. Honest. I’m not wasting the money on a hotel. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“Mom, it’s already done.” I did not want to have this conversation. I just wanted to be alone and play Ruby. Although, I wasn’t really alone. I could hear the sound of the TV and murmur of voices coming from the hotel room. I had to remember to keep it down in here, I didn’t need to air any more of my drama than I already had.
Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over Page 13
