Tyler moves to the desk, perching on the corner and plays with a small figurine. “I haven’t been in there today.”
Thomas leans back in his chair. “Well, maybe you should go check.”
Oh, no!
I scramble back to my hole. Tyler will beat me there if he leaves Thomas’s room immediately and I look like I’ve been rolling around in the dirt.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I stick my head in the hole and Teeny’s sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaked down her face.
“You’re back!”
She jumps up and holds her arms out like she’s going to catch me.
“Teeny, Tyler’s about to open our door. Go out there and stall him. I have to clean up before he sees me.”
She shakes her head, fast. “I don’t want to see him.”
I drop my legs through the hole, holding myself up on my elbows. “You have to. I’ll be just a minute or two behind you. And shut the door. Tell him I’m using the bathroom.”
Teeny backs out of the room and pulls the door shut. I drop down and cringe when the vibrations shoot up my legs. There’s no way to get the grate back up there or the air duct attached, so I just hope they don’t come in the bathroom and look up.
At the sink, I scrub my hands, arms, and face. My T-shirt is a wreck. I pull it off and turn it inside out. The dirt blends into the black yoga pants so I’m okay there.
I leave the bathroom and Tyler’s near the door, the mask back on.
“What’s in your hair?” he asks.
My hands fly to my head and a layer of dust drizzles down around me. Not good.
“Nothing. We need to talk.”
The door is still open and Tyler peeks down the hall.
He seems torn. His attitude toward me has been hostile, which I don’t get. What did I do to him to make him so resentful?
I’ve got to try to understand what’s going on and what part he’s playing in this. And as Pearl always says, you get more bees with honey than you do with vinegar.
“Tyler, please talk to me.”
He turns back to me, pulling the mask off, and shuts the door.
Teeny folds her arms in front of her and stands firmly in front of him. I love that even though she’s scared right now, you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.
“I don’t think there’s anything to say.”
“Please tell me what’s going on?” I ask.
He shakes his head and presses his lips together.
“Can you tell me why you have stitches?”
His fingertips go to the side of his face. “That’s compliments of your boyfriend and a jagged piece of glass in the back of the van. He cut me through the mask.”
And now he’s taking his revenge on Ethan.
“Did you have to go to the hospital?” Teeny asks. She’s terrified of needles and doctors and hospitals.
