High School Hangover

by Stephanie Hale

  “Three Guys Moving Company,” he answers, not meeting my eyes.

  Leo’s family’s moving company. So this is why he hates Leo so much. Goosebumps pop up on my arms but I try to act normal by drying more plates.

  “Why did he think they were stealing?”

  “My dad noticed moving company workers getting keys made at the hardware store next to his business.”

  “Don’t they need keys to get in and move the customers stuff?”

  “The customers give them keys. Why would they be getting duplicates made unless they were sneaking back in to steal something?”

  “Did any of their customers ever report stolen items?” I ask, trying to find a way that Jack and Leo could both be right.

  “No,” Jack says softly, hanging his head.

  “This was just a hunch your dad had?”

  “He senses things about people. Somehow he knows if someone is being dishonest. He knows things aren’t on the up and up with that company. We’re going to prove it someday,” he says, his green eyes burning into mine.

  Suddenly I remember where we woke up. “We were in one of Leo’s moving vans, weren’t we? That’s why you didn’t want me to look back because you knew I’d recognize it.”

  Jack doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

  “Yeah, so?” he admits.

  “You were trying to plant something in there to frame Leo’s dad, weren’t you?” I yell.

  “Laney, that’s crazy. It’s a coincidence,” he assures me, but I’m not so sure. What do I really know about Jack, anyway? His dad might be a total loose cannon for all I know. Running around town accusing a decade-old business of stealing with no proof doesn’t sound like stable mental health to me. Maybe Jack is just as crazy. And if Leo finds out about this little road trip my chances of ever having anything with him will be over.

  “So, what? You thought if you stole Leo’s girlfriend you’d be even?” Okay, so maybe classifying myself as Leo’s girlfriend is a little bit of a stretch, but Jack doesn’t know that.

  “Do you really think hanging on Leo’s arm for one party makes you his girlfriend?”

  Ouch. Jack just totally burnt me. He’s right. Hanging out with Leo for one night, especially when we obviously didn’t stay together the whole night doesn’t exactly make for an exclusive relationship. I also have a vague memory of Leo chatting up Amelia Brown last night. I just wish I could remember what the heck happened last night.

  “Whatever,” I huff. “I need to take a walk.” I throw down the towel and grab my purse with absolutely no clue where I’m going. I know how stupid it is to split up, but I’ve just got to get away from Jack for a few minutes.

  “Don’t go,” Jack pleads, but I’m bolting out of the kitchen before he can get his gloves off.

  Chapter Six

  I rush through the diner and out onto the sidewalk, glancing around at nearby businesses. I’m on a mission to find a phone, call my Dad, and get as far away from Jack as possible. He’s got some nerve accusing Leo’s family of stealing. I notice a pawn shop a few doors down and head that way. I thought about asking Dot if I could use the diner phone but I figured she would laugh at me. Besides, I don’t want Jack knowing I made this call.

  I pull open the door and a loud bell chimes as I walk in. Glass cases full of jewelry, musical equipment and tools line the dusty shop. The employees are all wearing neon green shirts with black crowns on them that say Pawn King. Most of them are busy ringing up purchases or haggling with prospective buyers. I walk toward a younger guy in one of the green shirts with greasy black hair and two full sleeves of tattoos near the cash register. He is spinning around and around on a desk chair and looks close to puking.

  “Excuse me, do you have a phone I can use?”

  “What’re you gonna do for me?” he asks, halting his spinning and leering at me suggestively.

  “Forget it,” I say disgustedly.

  “Hold on, I was messing with you,” he says. “Hey, I’ll give you five hundred bucks for the bag.”

  “What? No,” I say, clutching my purse to my shoulder for dear life. Although five hundred dollars might solve all my problems right now, I can’t part with a gift that Dad so thoughtfully picked out for me, unless it is my last resort.

  “Okay, take it easy. It was just an offer,” he says, lifting up part of the counter so that I can get behind the glass cases.

  “Are you a celebrity or something?” he asks, taking in my ridiculous ensemble while leading me back to an office area.

  “Not hardly. I got stranded here with a friend,” I admit. I want to make this call quickly because even though I needed some time away from Jack, I don’t want us getting separated. At least not until we get back to Higginsville. Then I won’t be able to get away from him quick enough.

  “Here it is,” he says, pointing to a black cordless phone sitting on an extremely messy desk. “Move this stuff over,” he says, shoving some papers to one side. “If my dad or grandpa ask what you’re doing back here, tell them you had to call the bank to see if you had enough money to buy something.”

  I should probably tell him that I’m calling Paris but I’m afraid he won’t let me use the phone if I do. I’ll just take something with their address so I can send them some money when I get back home.

  “Thank you so much,” I say, watching him disappear back out front before I dial Dad’s number. I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder and sit down to rifle through some papers looking for a pad of paper and a pen. Dad will have to call me back with our flight information and I want to be ready. On the third ring, I finally find a notebook and a neon green pen both boasting Pawn King’s hours and location. I’m starting to get nervous that Dad isn’t going to take a call from an unidentified number. I start doodling on the notebook then realize it’s a list of some sort so I better quit writing on it. The list maker sure has some weird shorthand though. It’s made up of a bunch of initials, numbers and a few sketches of stick animals. Wow, and I thought I couldn’t draw.

  I flip the list over to the next blank sheet of paper and listen to the fourth ring.

  “Archer, here,” Dad’s familiar voice says professionally. My heart nearly leaps with joy.

  “Daddy, it’s Laney,” I say, even though it is completely unnecessary to identify myself. I’m so relieved to hear his voice.

  “Laneybug, how was graduation?”

  A sharp pain strikes inside my chest at the memory of Dad missing the ceremony yesterday but I push it aside. It’s not like he could help it. Besides, he already promised to come to my college graduation and that’s the one that really counts anyway. And in a few months, we’ll be together all the time.

  “It was fine,” I answer, purposely not elaborating on how bad my speech bombed. “How’s Paris?” I ask, mentally picturing my dad pounding away at his laptop at a Parisian bistro in front of the Eiffel Tower.

  “The French are so incompetent, Laney. It’s no wonder they’ve never won a war,” Dad spouts with disgust.

  I have to clench my jaw to keep from correcting Dad’s statement. The French won several wars, but I’m not going to disrespect my dad by correcting him. “Listen, Dad, I kind of need your help,” I say nervously.

  “Anything for you, Laneybug,” he says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  I grip the side of the desk with superhuman strength willing myself to tell him. “I had kind of a crazy night and somehow ended up in Texas with a friend of mine,” I blurt out.

  “Whoa, Laneybug, cutting loose on graduation night. That’s my girl,” he says, practically whooping and hollering into the phone. I’m stunned at his reaction and hope for his sake that he isn’t in the middle of a business meeting or anything. Then I remember it’s night time in Paris.

  “I need you to book us a couple of flights back to Missouri because we don’t have enough money to get them ourselves,” I babble, loosening my grip on the desk and the feeling returning to my limbs.

&nb
sp; “Ooh, that’s gonna be a problem,” Dad says, making my blood pressure start to rise.

  “Can’t you go online and book us a reservation? We’ll pay you back, I promise.”

  “All I have are traveler’s checks with me over here, Laneybug. I’m sure your mom will cover it,” he says confidently. I’ve never tattled on Mom for being a big spender, but Dad has to know that her salary isn’t as big as his. Besides, even if she had the money, there is no way I want her to know I somehow managed to wake up in another state and have no clue how I got here.

  “Sure, Dad,” I agree, knowing that he is probably trying to teach me a life lesson. I hear a woman’s voice in the background then realize it is probably someone sitting close to him at the bistro. “Okay, I guess I better go. I’ll give you a call next week.” I rip off the piece of paper and stick it into my purse with the pen so that I remember to reimburse them for the phone call.

  “You’re a smart girl, Laneybug. You’ll find your way home. It’ll be an adventure.”

  It surprises me that he doesn’t seem at all worried about me being so far away from home, but I guess he never really has worried about me. He seemed to know I would be okay without hovering over me like Mom does sometimes.

  “Sure, an adventure,” I reply, imagining standing on the side of the road with Jack, our thumbs in the air. “Au revoir, Daddy.”

  “Adios, Laneybug,” Dad signs off. I shake my head, confused by his choice of language. I replace the phone and walk out of the office in a daze. I mumble something to the worker who let me use the phone and duck under the counter and out the door. A large shadow looms over the sidewalk and I look up to the Three Guys Moving Company truck parked right along the street.

  I freeze on the sidewalk only moving my eyes. Are they looking for me? Do they know I’m the one who peed in the vase? My eyes search frantically for any sign of them. Could they have been in the pawn shop when I left? It’s possible because I did zigzag through several people but I wasn’t paying attention. At least I left some DNA in the vase in case I’m never seen or heard from again.

  A blur flashes in front of me and before I can react I’m being dragged into an alley in between the diner and the pawn shop. I start to scream and a hand clamps down over my mouth. I try to kick my assailant, but this stupid dress is too tight and I can’t even raise my knees. Great, my evening gown is now an accomplice.

  “Quiet, Dimples,” Jack says, spinning me around nearly burying my face in his chest.

  I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I’m safe, but my heart rate is still going crazy. Jack leans over and peeks back to the sidewalk. I study his chin and the small mole near his lip that I never noticed before. Not thinking clearly, I rub my thumb across it. Shocked, Jack glances down at me questioningly.

  “Sorry, you had some barbeque residue,” I lie. He backs away and even though it must be ninety degrees out already, I feel colder.

  “I’m sorry about earlier, but we’ve got to stick together,” Jack says urgently. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  The way he looks at me when he says that makes me feel like he really cares about me, but I won’t fall for that again. Besides, Leo is probably frantic wondering where I am. Jack is right about sticking together though. Since Dad didn’t come to our rescue, we are going to have to rely on each other to get home. Hopefully this trip works out better than our lab project did.

  “I’m sorry I took off,” I apologize, realizing now how stupid it was. “Do you think they’re looking for us?”

  “I don’t think so. They couldn’t have seen us get out, so it’s probably a coincidence,” Jack explains, but I feel like he’s holding something back, but I don’t want any more bad news, so I don’t press him.

  “Maybe if we find them and explain what happened they’ll give us a ride back home.”

  “Do you really think they’re going to believe Buck McAllister’s kid just happened to pass out in one of their moving vans? Even you don’t believe that. But they would believe you and then you could get back home,” he says, wheels turning in his head so fast I can practically see smoke coming out of them.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I tell him adamantly. “We go together or we don’t go.”

  I guess I never really did believe that Jack was responsible for getting me into that truck. He may not be completely dependable, but he did come looking for me, so that counts for something.

  “I don’t know how we’re going to get home,” he admits, looking flustered.

  “A guy at the pawn shop offered me five hundred dollars for my purse,” I volunteer. I hate the thought of parting with it but desperate times and all that crap.

  “That might get us bus fare home,” he says, considering it. “But I know it means a lot to you.”

  “Maybe I can take out a loan and then send them a check when I get home and they can send it back to me,” I think, realizing it is the perfect solution.

  Suddenly a door I didn’t notice bursts open in the alley and four men pile through it. I recognize two of the voices as the men outside the moving van. Before I can react, Jack’s lips come crashing down on mine. The unexpected kiss startles me so much that my legs start to crumple underneath me. Jack scoops me up, clutching my waist securely, never pulling his lips off mine.

  This isn’t my first kiss, but this is the first kiss that makes me feel like glitter might shoot out my ears. This kiss feels better than being the only person in the class to ace a test. This kiss just might make up for a missing lab project.

  “Get a room,” one of the men yells, slamming the door shut again.

  Jack jerks his lips off mine and scans the alley. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the alley as fast as I can manage in these stupid heels. Physically, I’m trying to keep up with Jack, but mentally, I’m still back soaking up that toe-curling kiss.

  I know I should feel guilty because of Leo and all, but all the feelings I had for Jack are starting to come back to me. This whole time I didn’t think he reciprocated because he stood me up. But maybe he was telling the truth the whole time, maybe someone really did steal our project out of his locker.

  “I don’t think they’re following us,” Jack says, glancing behind us.

  I kind of forgot we were even in danger.

  “I’m really sorry about that back there. It was the only thing I could think to do,” Jack apologizes.

  For a second, I don’t understand what he is apologizing for, and then I realize he’s talking about the kiss. That heart-thumping, mind-blowing, firework-exploding kiss was just to distract the moving van drivers from recognizing us. He hasn’t been pining away for me for two years. I can’t believe I read the situation so wrong. I may ace all my subjects, but I’m a complete failure at reading people. This is officially the most humiliating moment of my entire life. I can’t let Jack figure out how that kiss really affected me.

  “I appreciate you saving my life and all, but a Tic-Tac wouldn’t kill ya,” I reply, hoping I’m convincing.

  Jack laughs uncomfortably. “Yuck, next time I’ll just let them have you,” he replies, swiping his sleeve against his lips.

  I kind of want to die right now. We walk silently for a few minutes until we emerge onto an oak-lined street in the middle of a pristine neighborhood. We pass neatly trimmed emerald rectangle yards with cookie cutter houses barely distinguishable from one another. I glance nervously behind us watching the alley get farther and farther away. I’m paranoid about getting lost in a strange town.

  I make a mental note of the street names and directions we are heading as we turn down another street. This block only has one colossal house on it. It reminds me of Tara from Gone with the Wind. Mom has made me sit through that movie more times than I care to remember. I kind of wish she could be here with me to see it because she would love it. Okay, I’m being totally weird. I think the stress of our situation has finally pushed me over the edge.

  “Eww…look,
rivals,” Jack says, breaking our awkward silence. He points to a short bus parked in the estate’s circular driveway adorned with Cubs graffiti on each window. A large sign hangs off the back that says, Chicago or bust.

  “I wish we had some eggs or soap or something,” I joke. Living such a short distance from Saint Louis, it is practically a law that every Higginsville resident is a die-hard Cardinal fan. The Cubs are our evil nemesis.

  “They’re going to Chicago,” Jack says, pointing out the obvious.

  “Um, yeah, no kidding.”

  “Laney, they’re going to Chicago.” It takes a minute to sink in to my overly stressed brain.

  “They’ll be really close to Missouri,” I shout, finally getting it. He forces me to fist bump him before we finally start up the lengthy driveway. We pass a bench surrounded by gazing balls and well-tended flowers. A sign in front of the bench says Primrose. “They named their house, Jack. I don’t think they are going to be the type of people to let strangers crash their road trip.”

  I start getting worried that this might be a sorority house. I don’t think I could take a bus full of girls all fighting for Jack’s attention the entire way back home.

  “The worst they can say is no,” Jack says.

  Before we can reach the palatial white door, it flings open to a conversation so loud I practically have to slap my hands over my ears. A frail-looking elderly man emerges battling with a walker that has four green tennis balls shoved onto its feet. I jump back as Jack lurches forward to help the man un-stick his walker from the edge of the door.

  “Let me help you with that, sir,” Jack says kindly, jerking the walker until it is flush with the concrete porch.

  “Jack?” the elderly man asks, looking confused. He’s not the only one because I can’t imagine how Jack knows someone a thousand miles away. But the look on Jack’s face is the most confused of all because it is apparent that he has no idea who this man is.