“Isn’t the point of a promise that your word is enough?”
“Take it or leave it.”
Begrudgingly, Nelle curls her pinkie around his.
“I promise not to leave you without your permission,” James says. “Everagain.”
As if he has performed a spell, her tight chest unspools. “Why did you leave, anyway?”
“I wanted to surprise you with one of my favorite things.” He produces a plastic cup filled with brown liquid and ice.
She takes the cold drink as a peace offering. It’s milky, bitter, and cuts through her in a way that jolts her nerves.
“What is this?”
“An iced latte.”
James clinks his cup against hers. The ice rattles. She sits back against the creamy pillows, drinks her latte, and watches him watching her. How is it possible for someone to cure her anxiety so quickly? She knows it’s an unhealthy habit to form, but right now, wrapped in his clean, intoxicating smell, she can’t help but give in to her innate desire to relax beside him.
“You were sleeping so hard, I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Oh no.” Nelle wants to crawl inside herself and shrivel up. “I know I drool.”
“After last night, I don’t think we can afford to be embarrassed around each other,” James says. “The karaoke competition?”
Memories hit Nelle’s head like bricks. Singing off-key to songs she didn’t know, jumping on the bed amid liquor bottles and sheets of paper, clutching the TV remote as her microphone. James was wild, too, screaming at the top of his lungs to guitar- and drum-heavy ballads. Honestly, they should have been thrown out for a noise complaint.
“I think I’ll cross singing off my list of possible career paths,” she says.
James drops his swollen duffel bag on the bed and digs through it for clothes. In the bathroom, Nelle showers and changes into a cropped black tee and denim shorts.
When she reemerges, James has changed into his Henley and baggy jeans. Despite the warmth, he tugs on his dad’s weathered jacket.
“So, navigator,” he says, “where to next?”
Nelle presses her hands to the window and looks out at the city, beyond the city, to the sky. The world out there waiting for her. Just as exciting as before, but it is tainted now by Quill. He could be lurking around every corner, watching, waiting.
“I don’t know what to do abouthim.” She chokes on the nameFather.
James’s sigh rattles with real fear. “Neither do I. What if he’s waiting at the truck? Or in ournexthotel room? I don’t think he’ll stop after today.”
“I’m sorry,” Nelle says.
“Why on earth—”
“For pulling you into all of this,” she finishes. “I knew better than to mess with Quill.”
“You didn’t pull me into anything.” James nudges her chin up. “I jumped in headfirst. And as for Quill, I think all we can do is hope he stays away.”
She rests on his hand. “Hope.”
“Where to next, Nelle?”
“I’m thinking ...” She pauses, mostly for dramatic effect. “New York.”
On the drive north, Nelle and James find a diner at 3:00 a.m. in a ghost town off the interstate. Its black-and-white checkered floor sticks to her shoes, but she loves the red-vinyl booths, the foggy plastic menus, the cloud of grease that wafts from the kitchen door with its circularwindow. James slurps a chocolate milkshake from a thick red straw, the glass as tall as his forearm. Nelle tastes hers.
“Have you ever had a milkshake?” James asks.
