It’s that she’s been wrapped up in her book for the last six hours, munching on her trail mix. It’s been so quiet without her snark that I almost want to poke her so she remembers I exist.
Curiosity has me sneaking peeks at her phone to see what book has caught her attention, but her screen is locked. I hopeout of the handful of narrator friends I know, it won’t be one of their names on the screen.
With her hood cinched tight around her face, her oversized sweatshirt cocoons around her, with her legs bent and crammed inside for warmth. Similar to how I remember her sitting eating her cereal on chilly Saturday mornings when I’d have the rare sleepover at Des’s. It’s sort of cute that she didn’t grow out of it.
I catch myself staring for a moment too long and force myself to return to my apartment hunting in LA. Prices are higher, as I’d assumed they would be, especially if I want to be in a safer area where I won’t be stabbed on my way to work. Even a studio with the bare basics will cost me a good chunk of my paycheck. It will definitely be a sacrifice living month to month.
Maybe I should’ve bought the RV instead of Des. Then I’d be home no matter where I parked it.
“Hey,” Reese suddenly says, tapping my arm.
Guiltily, I flick up on the screen and close the search engine before she notices.
“What’s up?”
“Can you listen to this?”
I blink, hoping to mask my irritation. I must be too slow because she grabs my arm and gives me a little shake.
“Please?” She pulls out one of the earbuds and offers it to me. “It will only take a second.”
As always, I’m toast with that sappy smile of hers. I sigh in defeat. “What do you want me to do?”
“Does this voice sound familiar? It’s insane, but I keep having déjà vu.”
“With who?” I ask, then take the device and twist it in my ear.
“The man from the audiobook I’m listening to.”
“Oh.” My lip curls at the thought of listening to the man she’s been drooling over for hours.
Or perhaps I should take some notes for my next recording. It’s a rare thing for Reese to be so smitten. A sour taste fills my mouth at that thought, and I take a swig of my water to force it down just as she hits play.
“You’re everything I’ve been searching for, Annie,” the narrator declares, and I inhale the next chug of water in my lungs in surprise. Gagging, I spray water from my mouth and nose on the back of the seat in front of me and across my legs.
“Oh, shoot. Tris.” Reese slaps my back, concerned. “Are you okay?”
It’s me.Reese is listening to one of my books.
I can’t even get a word out through my coughing fit. Heck, I can’t even enjoy the satisfaction of knowing it was my voice she’s been listening to this whole time.
“Down the . . . wrong pipe . . . I’m okay,” I manage to gasp out.
She pulls a stack of napkins from her backpack and wipes the leather seat in front of me with expert precision.
“I can... do that,” I protest, still fighting the instinct to cough.
“It feels fair that I have to clean up one of your messes for once. You just focus on breathing like a normal human being.”
Like this isn’t her first rodeo, Reese dries the seatback with efficient strokes and then the floor. Then she snatches another napkin and cleans off the tops of my arms in two quick swipes. She’s fast, too fast. Stiffening, I almost climb backward up my chair when her next wipe glides across my upper thigh and nearly sends me into another coughing fit.
“Whoooa. That’s good enough.”
The bus temperature skyrockets to a boiling point.
“Oh my...” She leans back to cover her face. “I wasn’teven thinking. I’m so used to cleaning up spills, even at work that... agh... sorry, Tris.”
“It’s okay,” I say with a shaky breath.
