Escape With You

by Rachel Schurig

  “Of course it did,” he says easily. “You’re a star. They’d be crazy not to want you.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t know about that.”

  “And what about you? Did you want them?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, Hunt. It’s not really the kind of place I imagined working in. But it’s also my first job out of college, so I can’t really be picky.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you should be miserable,” he argued. “Tell me about it.”

  So I describe the salon to him in all of it’s flowered-curtain, pink walled glory. To call it a family place was an understatement. I knew the moment that I walked in that this place catered to an older, tamer clientele than I was hoping for. All of the customers that I saw come in during my brief wait had been fifty and up, with the exception of a young, harried looking mother that brought her three kids under five in for their trims. I could envision endless shifts of applying perms and tinting silver hair back to its former, dark-hued glory. And, like Fred had teased, performing those short poofy hair cuts grandmothers seemed so fond of.

  “I’m surprised they seemed so receptive, to be honest,” I say. “You’d think a place like that would take one look at me and send me packing.” I fingered a lock of blue tipped hair. I had considered dying it out for my interviews, but decided in the end that it might help me stand out if I managed to find the kind of hip, trendy salon I was hoping for. Besides, as Hunter told me, there wasn’t a lot of point in hiding my hair when all they had to do was take one look at my arms to see the tattoos that covered much of my skin.

  “Maybe they’re desperate,” Hunter suggests as we pull into the parking lot of the Burrito Barn. I punch his arm and he laughs. “I kid!”

  I hold his hand as we make our way inside my current place of employment. I shout out a hello to my friend, Betsy, who was currently heading out from behind the counter with a tray of Cokes balanced on her shoulder.

  “Hey, Ells,” she calls back. “Take your pick.”

  Hunter and I head back to our favorite booth, so named because it’s one of the few in the establishment without any tears in the vinyl cushions.

  “She did say something about bringing in a younger clientele,” I tell Hunter as we slip into the booth, picking up the conversation where we left off. “So maybe that explains it.”

  “What was she like? The owner?”

  “She was sweet. Younger—maybe in her thirties? She didn’t seem afraid of me, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

  “And a miracle,” he mutters.

  “Ha ha.”

  He smiles sweetly at me. “Well, I hope you get it, Ells. If they’re looking to bring in some younger clients maybe they’ll be excited to have you. And it would give you a chance to build up a client list, no matter what else happens.”

  I nod. I know that if they offered I would probably take it. It’s the best place I’ve interviewed with so far. One place had been so run down and dirty it gave me the shivers, while the other was a corporate chain where I’d be sure to make a pittance and never get repeat clients. At least Alice’s Boutique had been clean and busy.

  Betsy joined us at our booth, pushing me over so she could sit. “Better watch it,” I tell her. “Kim will kick your ass if she sees you sitting with patrons.”

  She snorts. “Kim is gone. Everyone is gone. I’m covering three shifts today. I’ll sit when I want.”

  “Good for you.”

  I like Betsy. She’s older than me and we don’t have a ton in common—she’s married and a mother to three young kids. But she curses like a sailor and doesn’t take any crap from anyone, two important qualities in my book.

  “So how’d the interview go?” she asks. She makes a big show of crossing her fingers. “Please tell me it was awful and you’ve decided to stay with us forever.”

  It’s my turn to snort. “Sorry, lady. I think my Burrito Barn days are numbered, one way or another.”

  She sighs. “I figured. Bitch.” She grins at me. “But I’m very excited for you.”

  “Liar.”

  “Excuse me,” a man calls from the back of the room. “Can I get my check?”

  “In a minute,” she shouts back, rolling her eyes at me. “Bastard,” she mutters, moving to stand. “What can I bring back for you guys?”

  “Two Cokes,” I say, looking at Hunter for confirmation. He nods. “I’ll take a chicken burrito,” he adds.

  “Beef for you?” Betsy asks, looking down at me.

  “Yup. Thanks Bets. No rush.”

  She pats my shoulder as she turns to go. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Where’s Zoe today?” Hunter asks. “I figured she’d be here to grill you about the interview.” A wicked grin comes to his eyes. “Let me guess, she’s enjoying some afternoon delight with that hottie of hers.” I laugh and he leans toward me. “Not that I can blame her. The things I would do to that boy—”

  I held up a hand. “Spare me the details. Besides, she’s not with Jet.” I frown a little. “She doesn’t have class today so she went out to her uncle’s.”

  Hunter immediately frowns as well. “Poor thing.”

  I nod. I always felt bad even thinking about criticizing my mother when I thought about Zoe’s family. My mom may be immature and needy, but at least she’s well. Zoe’s mom, on the other hand, is a very sick woman.

  “Do you know how she is?” he asks.

  I sigh. “Last I heard she was finally agreeing to see Zoe, but only so that she could tell her what a terrible daughter she is.”

  Hunter winces. “She shouldn’t put herself through that.”

  “You know Zoe. She still thinks that she deserves it.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  I nod. Zoe’s mom had been sick for years, and Zoe had spent most of that time feeling responsible for her. It was the reason she was so adamant about living at home well into her twenties, the reason she had barely taken any classes, had given up her plans to move out of town to go to a big university. She had to take care of her mom.

  It had all fallen apart a month ago when her mom had a complete break and had to be hospitalized. Luckily, Zoe’s uncle had finally stepped in and taken control of the situation, having Cassandra Janes hospitalized near his home. Zoe, of course, still feels guilty about the entire mess. I hate seeing her when she comes home from these visits—she always looks so broken and defeated. I know her mom is sick, know it isn’t her fault, but I can’t help hating her, just a little, for putting that look on Zoe’s face.

  “When will she be home?” Hunter asks. “Maybe I should come over.”

  I shake my head. “She usually doesn’t feel too social, but I can call you and let you know.”

  “Please do.”

  Betsy returns with our drinks and food but she can’t stay to talk. “I’ve got a party of eight,” she mutters to me, hurriedly handing us our silverware. “They have two babies with them.”

  I grimace at her. “Good luck.”

  Hunter and I dig into our food. The Burrito Barn doesn’t do many things right, but they sure come close with the cheesy, overstuffed concoction that gives the place it’s name.

  “I’m surprised by you, you know,” Hunter says eventually, wiping his mouth with a napkin. I raise my eyebrows, my mouth still full.

  “I only agreed to have lunch with you because I was hoping to get the scoop on Fred. And you’re sitting there acting like nothing even happened.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, come on Ells. You can’t hold out on me like this.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Yeah, right. I saw him at that party, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way he went after you—you should have seen the look on his face when he told Jet not to let that guy come to your room.” He mock-shivers. “He was all bossy and possessive. Totally hot.”

  I shift in my seat, not quite sure why I feel so uncomfortable. I tell Hunter
everything, giggle with him about pretty much every guy I have ever been with. So why can’t I manage so much as a smile at the image he presents? The truth is, authoritative, possessive Fred does sound pretty hot. And I’m not sure why I don’t want to admit that.

  “So did you hook up again?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  His eyebrows practically raise right off his forehead. “Really?” It would be impossible for him to make his skepticism more obvious, but I only nod.

  “I swear we didn’t. We just talked and went to sleep.”

  He looks so disappointed that I almost laugh. I wait until he has a mouth full of Coke before I go on, my voice casual. “We did decide to be fuck buddies, though.”

  He immediately starts coughing, his eyes wide. I laugh, handing him a napkin. “You okay, Hunt?”

  He pounds on his chest, coughing. “Jesus, Ells, you can’t just drop something like that on me without any warning.”

  I widen my eyes innocently. “You said you wanted the scoop.”

  He leans forward, still wiping at his eyes. “Oh, I do. I just wasn’t expecting that. So.” His eyes scan my face. “Friends with benefits, eh? Whose idea was that?”

  “His.”

  He watches me for a long moment before shaking his head. “Poor guy.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He looks away. “Nothing.”

  “Hunter—” I’m ready to nag him until he explains himself, but my phone starts ringing. I reach for it, frowning when I see that it’s Zoe.

  “Ells?” she asks the moment I answer. “Are you home?”

  “I’m at lunch,” I tell her. “But I can be home in five minutes. Are you okay?”

  I think I hear a strangled sob and when she speaks again her voice is shaky. “I’m on my way back. If you’re busy that’s totally cool, I’m fine—”

  “I’m not busy,” I assure her. “I’ll be there when you get home. How far are you?”

  “About an hour,” she says, and the relief in her voice is palpable.

  “I’m with Hunter,” I tell her, looking up at him. “But I have no qualms about dropping his sorry ass home first.”

  She laughs a little. “No, bring him. I could use all the company I can get.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you in a bit.”

  I hang up, cursing.

  “That bad, huh?” Hunter asks, already reaching for his wallet to pay.

  “She was crying,” I spit out, anger at her mother overwhelming me. “She said she could use some company.”

  “Then let’s go,” he says simply, standing.

  “I’ll get this.” I pick up my purse thinking that so long as I’m here, I may as well pick something up for my mom.

  “You sure?” he asks. “Didn’t you get last time?”

  “You can pick up some beer on the way,” I tell him. “Come on. We need to stop at my mom’s first.”

  Chapter Seven

  Fred

  I find Jet at his apartment when I’m done with my interview. I had called beforehand to let him know what was up. He greets me at the door, his eyebrows raised. “So?”

  “I got it,” I say, high fiving him.

  “Dude, that’s awesome.” He moves to let me in. “I’m stoked for you.”

  I lost the suit coat in my truck, but I loosen my tie as I join him at the kitchen breakfast bar, eagerly accepting the beer he offers. It’s hot as hell outside, the summer stubbornly hanging on though we are now well into September.

  “So when do you start?”

  “Next week,” I take a long pull of the cold beer. “Need to figure out where I’m staying. The idea of being in my parents’ house again is not appealing, but I doubt I can afford something on my own. I still have to pay rent in Ann Arbor.”

  “Stay here,” he says easily. I raise my eyebrows.

  “Seriously, man. I have the room. It’d be cool to have someone to play Halo with.”

  I grin then shake my head. “I don’t know, man. You’re just starting this new life with Zoe and school and everything. Do you really want another dude in your place?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Give me a break. I wouldn’t mind the company. Zoe is adamant about spending a few nights a week apart so we don’t get too codependent, whatever the hell that means.” I try to hide my grin. I have a feeling Zoe is fighting a losing battle with that one. “Besides,” he goes on. “You’re spending part of the week in Ann Arbor, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have classes Thursday and Friday so I’d probably leave town on Wednesday night then come back at some point over the weekend or Sunday night.”

  “That’s a lot of driving.”

  I shrug. “It’s worth it. This is a great opportunity. And it’s paid, which you don’t find in a lot of internships.”

  “That’s awesome man. So, what do you say? Wanna be my roomie?”

  I shove his shoulder. “Only if you promise to never say that word again.”

  He laughs, holding up his beer can. “Cheers.”

  I tap mine against it and take another gulp. “Speaking of Zoe, what’s she up to? I figured she’d be here.” It’s a pretty transparent attempt to find out what Ellie might be doing, but Jet doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Instead, his face clouds over.

  “She spent the day at her uncle’s.”

  “Shit.”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “Is she still out there?”

  I notice his fingers clench into a fist, a sure sign he’s pissed about something.

  “No, she’s home. But she told me she wanted to stay in with Ellie and Hunter.”

  I try not to show my interest in the fact that Ellie is home—Jet is obviously upset about the situation.

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’m just glad she has them to hang with. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  He runs his hands through his messy hair, sighing. “She doesn’t ever want to talk to me when she’s upset about her mom. She thinks it isn’t fair because of what I go through with my mom. Which is totally bullshit and it completely pisses me off.”

  “Sounds like she’s looking out for you.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t,” he snarls. “I should be looking out for her. I’m the one she should be going to when she feels shitty, about her mom or anything else.”

  “Dude, you can’t expect her to not look out for you. She loves you.”

  He looks away. “I know. I just…I hate when she’s sad and I can’t help her.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t take no for an answer then.”

  “What do you mean? You think I should just show up over there?”

  I shake my head. “No. Give her some time to hang with her friends and get her shit together. Then show up over there. Tell her you want to be with her and that’s the end of it. You need to be up front with her about what you want and what you can handle. If you guys aren’t honest about this stuff, it’s going to get fucked up pretty fast.”

  He nods, looking thoughtful. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

  I clapped his shoulder. “Dude, I’m always right. You should know this by now.”

  He rolls his eyes, grabbing his beer can. “So. Halo?”

  “Halo.”

  We play for a couple hours. I know I should probably head home instead—I’m going to have to meet with my advisor and get my classes rearranged to accommodate the internship. But the knowledge that Ellie is at home and that Zoe’s about to be pre-occupied keeps me hanging out. Besides, I can always make the drive in the morning. When Jet gets up to leave and mentions that maybe he’ll take Zoe out to dinner and come back here later, my decision is sealed. Ellie will have the apartment to herself.

  I give it about twenty minutes after Jet has left before I call her. I find the number in my contacts, hoping Jet and Zoe have already taken off.

  She answers on the second ring, a fact that makes me grin. “Hey,” she say
s, and I can practically hear the smile in her voice. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” I tell her. “What about you? How was the interview?”

  She tells me about the salon and her reservations. I detect a mixture of excitement and confusion in her voice. I can tell that she doesn’t think the salon is quite what she wanted but, at the same time, it’s a job in her field.

  “I think you should go for it,” I say. “It’s good experience, right? And nothing says you can’t keep looking while you work.”

  “That’s true. The thought of a steady paycheck is pretty tempting. And I wouldn’t have to work at Burrito Barn anymore.”

  “Which would totally suck for the rest of us,” I remind her. “No more discounts.”

  She laughs. I can’t help but wonder where she is in the apartment. Lounging on the couch? In her bed? The thought makes my breath quicken. I had planned to tell her my news first, but now all I want to do is see her. “So guess where I am.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m at Jet’s apartment.”

  “What? You’re in town? Why?”

  I think I can detect excitement in her voice but that could be wishful thinking. “Why don’t I come over there and tell you about it?”

  She doesn’t even pause before she says, “Okay.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  I make it to her place in eight minutes. She’s waiting for me at the door and I can’t hide the grin that breaks out over my face at the sight of her. It hasn’t even been two weeks—why does she look even more gorgeous than the morning I left?

  “Hey.” I want nothing more than to sweep her up into my arms and kiss her, but I figure that might be moving too fast. There’s a good chance she’s about to be totally freaked out by me anyhow.

  I follow her into the apartment and to the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  She hands me a can and leads the way to the couch. She sits down, one leg under her, her eyebrows raised at me. “So? Spill it, why are you home so soon? I thought you had class during the week.”

  “I do. Well, I did. I’m going to need to rearrange my schedule now.”

  “Why?”