“It’s all right,” I say.
I heft a bag in each hand and head straight for the back of the van, hiding from that look on her face. Bad enough I ended yesterday by giving her a tip, even though I know Salem wouldn’t ever argue with a request to use voice actors. Worse if I start mooning over every look she gives me.
I’m here to do my job, and that job isn’t worrying over a woman who probably hates me, even if she does feel a little bad about thinking I’m some kind of security detail.
In fact, my job is to somehow get her to talk.
“Jess needs to sit up front,” says Tegan as I’m closing the rear door. “She gets carsick in back seats.”
So of course I look over at her again. Chin slightly up, jaw tight.And what about it?this look says.
“Great,” says Salem, which seems a little insensitive. “Tegan, we’ll sit in the back and talk a bit.”
Tegan’s eyes drift to Jess’s immediately, briefly. An instinct for permission. But then just as quickly she snaps her gaze back to Salem.
“Great!” she echoes, all unbothered excitement.
When we pile into the van, though, I wouldn’t say anything feels particularly exciting, at least not to me. Salem and I booked this van because we figured it’d be more spacious than an SUV, and it’s a quieter ride, too. But with Jess next to me the front seat feels close, and I can hear it when she sucks in a shaky breath. I hate being part of anything that makes someone this nervous, and I guess that doesn’t bode well for me in the long term of this job.
I back out of the driveway slowly, as if I’m giving everyone, including myself, one last chance.
But behind me, Salem and Tegan seem focused on settling in: Salem points out a cooler we put together this morning, full of water and some snacks; Tegan says her tablet is loaded with word puzzles. Their friendliness toward each other is pointed enough that I have the feeling it’s more of a performance for Jess’s benefit than anything.
Somehow, I can tell she’s not buying it.
When I turn right out of the neighborhood onto a main road, I start to calm down, or at least to lean in to the reality of this. It’s just under seven hours until our destination, according to my phone’s GPS, and I’m counting on one stop for fuel, lunch, and a bathroom break. I know Salem has a plan for this leg: light conversation, casual topics, nothing threatening. Trust-building stuff. Tonight, she’s hoping to do some recording if Tegan’s up for talking, and all signs point to Tegan always being up for talking.
“Oh, wait!” says Tegan, and I automatically take my foot off the gas. “Hawk, I googled you last night!”
I clench my back teeth, ease back on the accelerator. This is not the fast track to light conversation.
“I only found out your name was Adam Hawkins the other day. Salem always only talked about you as ‘Hawk’ on our video calls!”
“Right,” I say, trying to sound casual. Trying not to mess up the plan. Trust-building, I know, involves giving something of yourself, too.
But it’d be easier if I didn’t have to give the stuff that comes up on Google.
“Jessie,” she says, and I canfeelthe way Jess stiffens next to me, as though this nickname, said in this space, is some sort of violation. “Hawk was a big-deal college football star.”
Jess says nothing. Not even a flicker of interest. The silence should maybe be more insulting than her thinking I work security, but strangely, it’s not. She’s stonewalling again, but this time, it’s as if she’s doing it on my behalf.
“Jess hates football,” Tegan adds, I guess to Salem. “She thinks it’s barbaric.”
Okay, well. Maybe she’s not stonewalling on my behalf. Maybe she just thinks I’m barbaric.
“And then he—”
“Tegan,” Jess says, her tone cool. “Let him pay attention to the road.”
In the rearview, I see Tegan flush, chastened and probably more than a little angry at the light scolding. At eighteen, that kind of talk from your parent in front of someone else is uniquely humiliating.
Jess adds, more gently, “At least until we get on the freeway.”
I keep my eyes straight ahead. Thanking her would be too revealing, I know, but I want to. There’s no world where I want to start a road trip—aworkroad trip—talking about what I’m internet famous for.
Salem smoothly takes over, as if she’s been given a handoff. She asks Tegan to see the word puzzles, and within a minute, they’re doing the trust-building without us. Light and casual and nonthreatening. Tegan’s explaining a game I know Salem’s played before, and it seems they’ll keep up with this well after we get on the freeway.
I wonder if Jess realizes she’s just played teammate to a woman I’m pretty sure she’s planning to work against for the next three weeks.
