Fourteen
“No way,” Trish says. “I’m going to pound on the door again. Somebody’s got to be around to hear us.” She sprints for the door, Carlos close behind her. The sound of their footsteps echoes in the hallway.
“Those two have no sense of fun.” Elijah lifts his shoulders in disgust and focuses in on me. “Come on, Jedi, don’t leave me hanging. Hit me with a truth or dare.”
Jason sits on the floor, his back against the wall, and stretches his legs out. “If we’re gonna do this, I need food. I’m starving.”
Considering he’s a football player, I’m not surprised he’s hungry. Those guys consume twice their weight in food.
“Nobody has food,” Ashley pouts. “We all came down here without our backpacks or anything.”
She’s right. I glance around the room, wondering if there’s a secret stash of bomb shelter food. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find ancient granola bars or something.
“I’ll look.” I make my way down a narrow aisle with floor-to-ceiling shelves. I use my phone’s flashlight to scope out the shelves, which are full of ancient computers and monitors, old printers, and broken desk lamps. Why doesn’t my dad get rid of this stuff?
I move farther down the aisle, pausing when I see a box marked “Two-year Anniversary Party.” I open it, revealing a big stash of Pixy Stix. What the heck? I root around, but that’s all there is. I scan the last few shelves, but all the boxes are labeled “Old Brochures.”
Pixy Stix it is.
Carlos and Trish have returned. Based on their scowls, pounding on the door didn’t elicit a rescuer.
“I have food,” I announce. I set the box on the table and chuck packages of Pixy Stix at everyone.
“Is this it?” Jason sounds grouchy. I can’t blame him; straws full of sugar aren’t going to sate his jock appetite.
“Sorry. It was all I could find.”
“It’s almost six-thirty.” Carlos looks defeated. “I hope a guard will be here soon.”
“Um,” Ashley says hesitantly, “what if the guard doesn’t come down here? What if he only checks the main office areas?”
“She.” Trish tears off the end of a Pixy Stix with her teeth. Ashley blinks at her and Trish rolls her eyes. “Why do you assume the guard is a guy? Plenty of women are security guards, and cops and firefighters and—”
“Okay, okay.” Jason puts up a hand. “We get the message. Women can do anything. Fly to the moon, brain surgery, run for president. Whatever.”
“Don’t be a dick, Justin.” Carlos tears into his own Pixy Stix, dumping two straws’ worth of sugar into his mouth.
“My name is Jason.” Jason glares at Carlos, whose lips are purple from the grape Pixy Stix.
Carlos flutters his ridiculous eyelashes. “Sorry. Forgot.” He sends me a sideways glance and his purple lips twist in a smirk. I can’t look away, especially when he licks the purple sugar off his lips.
“Okay, people.” Elijah brushes red sugar off his hands. “Truth or dare. I’ll go first.” He points at me. “I choose dare. Jedi, proceed.”
He’s got the right idea. We need to reclaim our earlier dance party vibe to survive the wait.
“Okay, let me think.” I take a moment to suck down two straws of blueberry sugar, pondering my question. “I dare you to go back to the mannequin room without your phone and sit there in the dark with the door closed for ten minutes.”
Everyone laughs and smack-talks him. Maybe we’ll get past the cranky, hungry, we’ll-never-get-out-of-here stage.
Elijah shakes his head slowly. “You disappoint me, Jedi. I shall return, victorious.” He jumps up and grabs a package of Pixy Stix from the box. “See y’all in ten minutes.”
Carlos stands up to follow him. “I’ll guard the door to make sure he doesn’t cheat. Anybody else wanna come?” His gaze sweeps the group of us, but lands on me.
“It’s scarier for him if we all stay here.” Trish’s eyes hold a challenge.
A hint of panic flits across Elijah’s face. “Fine,” he says. “But if I’m found murdered, you’re all taking the blame.”
“Deal,” Carlos agrees. “I’ll make sure he goes in there, then I’ll come back.”
As they leave, everyone grabs more Pixy Stix.
“I haven’t had these since I was a kid.” Trish smiles as she examines the package. “My dad used to buy them for me when we went to the movies together.”
I have a hard time picturing the Manicotti and a young Trish at a movie theater, sharing candy like a normal family.
“What was your favorite movie when you were a kid?” I assume she’ll answer with a horror movie, but she surprises me.
“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
“Original or Johnny Depp?”
“Depp, of course.”
I hope my expression conveys my disgust. “No way. The original is way better.”
“I dunno,” Jason says. “My mom made me watch both and I agree with Trish. I liked how weird Depp was. And when the bratty girl spun down the drain—that was awesome.”
Ashley shudders. “That movie freaked me out. I think my favorite was Madagascar. Or Happy Feet. I loved that little penguin.”
“Aww,” Trish coos. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not.
“Sharkboy and Lavagirl,” Carlos says from the doorway. I jump, wondering how long he’s been standing there. He crosses the room and sits on the floor next to me. I reach for another Pixy Stix to distract myself.
“That movie was epic,” Jason agrees. “I bet I watched it a hundred times.”
Carlos laughs. “Me, too.”
“Sharkboy made stuff happen by dreaming, right?” I ask. My memories of that movie are hazy.
“Yeah.” Jason sighs and leans back against the cinderblock wall, closing his eyes. “I wanted that to be true so bad. To close my eyes and change reality.”
Pounding footsteps thud down the hallway and we all turn to see Elijah rushing toward us. He stops just inside the doorway and grins.
“Dare accomplished. Who’s next?”
Carlos glances at his phone. “That was only seven minutes. You failed.” He grins and as I study his profile, I wish it was just him and me trapped down here. All sorts of things might happen.
Yeah, right. Now I sound like Sharkboy, trying to dream my secret fantasy to life.
“Close enough.” Elijah joins our circle on the floor and grabs more Pixy Stix.
“Favorite movie?” I ask him. “And it can’t be Star Wars. Something that came out when we were kids.”
“Hmm.” He narrows his eyes, considering.
“We already said Sharkboy and Lavagirl,” Jason says.
Elijah grins. “Damn, I loved that movie.”
Trish shakes her head. “I don’t usually say this, but it must be a guy thing. I thought that movie was dumb.”
Ashley and I raise our hands for high-fives and Trish slams her palms on ours.
“Oh! How about Night at the Museum?” Elijah’s eyes dance with excitement.
Jason heaves another wistful sigh. “Another one I wished was real.”
“That was the best thing about being a kid,” I say. “It all seemed possible. A talking pig and a spider who loved him, squirrels hopped up on caffeine in the Ice Age, race cars that talked, a board game that sends you into outer space. It felt like we could do anything we could imagine.”
It’s quiet for a few moments and I wonder if anyone else is secretly wishing to be six years old again, like I am. I feel Carlos watching me and heat spreads across my face.
“Remember Zathura?” Elijah breaks the silence. “My dad bought me the board game and I was mad when I didn’t end up floating next to Saturn like in the movie.”
“I loved that movie.” It was scary, but I watched it over and over.
“Because you have excellent taste,” Elijah says.
“Remember Narnia?” Ashley asks. “Every day I checked all the closets in our apartment for a secret door into another world.”
Trish’s eyes soften as she looks at Ashley. “I was sure the secret passage was in my dad’s closet, but I wasn’t allowed in his room. It was torture, believing the magic was there but I wasn’t allowed to see it.”
“I still feel that way sometimes,” Ashley says quietly, “like there’s a secret door somewhere that will lead me to a better place. I just can’t find it.”
Her words tug at my heart, peeling away some of my jealousy.
“Whose turn for truth or dare?” asks Jason.
He’s such a dude. Just a hint of girly emotion and he panics.
“I have a better idea.” Trish clears her throat. Is that the shine of unshed tears in her eyes?
“What’s better than truth or dare?” Elijah sounds indignant.
“Two truths and a lie. But one of the truths has to be what you thought of this job on the first day.”
I suck in a breath. Is she trying to ruin the tenuous truce we’ve all achieved?
“And the other truth should be something funny or weird about you that none of us knows.”
“Who put you in charge?” Jason grumbles, echoing the complaint that started this whole mess. I wish I could make him a protein shake to improve his mood.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Trish grins and I’m struck by how much it morphs her into a different person. I’d love to take a ton of photos of her, in all of her moods.
“I’m in,” Elijah says.
“Sure, why not,” Carlos says next to me. “I’ll go first.”
My heart stutters. What’s he going to say about his first day here?
He shifts next to me, raising his arms up in a stretch. I catch a whiff of his soap or whatever that is that makes me want to kiss him. Heat floods my face as I try to banish the thought, but now all I can think of is kissing his neck.
Carlos states his supposed truths in a monotone. “The first day here, I thought I was the only one who’d last the whole summer. I dated a skier who’s competing in the next winter Olympics. My first day here, I wondered if Trish’s dad was on crack.”
After a few seconds of silence, everyone laughs, even Trish. Everyone except me, that is, because I’m stuck on his second statement. It can’t be true, can it? And if it is, who am I to think I could interest him?
“Can we ask questions to help decide?” Ashley asks. Trish shakes her head and Ashley frowns, studying Carlos curiously with her big blue eyes.
“I got this,” Elijah says with a cocky grin. “The lie is that you thought Mr. Mantoni was on crack.”
I peek at Carlos. I’m at a disadvantage viewing his profile. His eyes reveal his emotions so clearly, if I could see them I’d know for sure what’s true.
“No way.” Jason still sounds cranky. “The lie is that he dated an Olympic skier. In your dreams, dude.”
God, I hope Jason’s right.
“I think the lie is that he thought he was the only who’d last all summer. Half the people in the office think my dad’s on something. You wouldn’t be the first.” Trish smirks and I really wish I could see Carlos’s eyes. Trish glances at Ashley. “Your turn.”
Ashley licks her glossy lips. She must have brought lip gloss with her; too bad she didn’t think to bring food. “Okay, I think…” She pauses, searching his face for clues, I assume. I wonder if he enjoys her scrutiny. “You lied about Mr. Mantoni.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I can totally see you dating a hot skier.”
Everyone laughs, except me, and Jason, who rolls his eyes.
So Jason’s the only one who thinks he didn’t date an Olympian? Crud. Considering his cluelessness about a lot of things, my heart sinks. That’s not the lie, I can feel it in my bones.
“Laurel, wrap it up and bring it home.” Trish grabs another Pixy Stix from the pile and tosses it to me. I reach to catch it, but I miss, and it lands on Carlos’s lap. He turns and hands me the straw.
We stare at each other and my mouth goes dry. I can tell he’s trying to keep his face impassive, but, as always, his eyes give him away. A sigh escapes me, and I tear open the sugar straw.
“Truth, you thought you’d outlast everyone. And you dated…are dating?…a skier.”
“Dated,” he says. “Past tense.” His eyes remain locked on mine.
“Ha! I knew it,” Elijah gloats. “So do you ski?”
“I do now.”
Even Jason laughs at that statement. I dump the grape-flavored sugar in my mouth, focusing on the sticky sweet powder. I always hated this game at sleepovers, and now I remember why. I always found out something I wished I didn’t know.
“I didn’t think your dad was smoking crack,” Carlos says to Trish.
Trish cocks an eyebrow. “Well done, Rubio. Who’s next?”
“I’ll go.” Jason crosses his legs. “First day, I was sure you guys would vote me out when I was late. First day I worried I wasn’t gonna last all summer. If I don’t win this scholarship or get a football scholarship, I’m gonna have to get a full-time job after I graduate.”
Nobody laughs. Nobody moves. I’m pretty sure he misunderstood the rules and just told us three truths, but I don’t want to point it out since everything he said makes me cringe with sympathy pains.
“You’ll get a football scholarship,” I say to reassure him. “We’ve been to state twice because of you, Jason.” Everyone looks between Jason and me, except Carlos, whose attention is solely on me.
“I wish.” Jason gives me a sad smile. “But if that happens, then my dad’s gonna want me to go pro. I’m not that good. And even if I was, I don’t wanna end up with CTE.” He picks at the seam on his pants. “That’s why I want this scholarship. I don’t want to have to suffer through four more years of concussions just to get a degree.”
His words suck the energy out of the room.
“At least you play quarterback,” Elijah says. “You don’t get as many knocks to the head as other players.”
Jason scowls, still picking at the thread. I shoot Elijah a frustrated look and he mouths “What?” but I ignore him.
“You play any other sports?” Carlos asks. “Anything else that could get you a scholarship?”
Jason shrugs. “I used to, but then I focused in on football. I, uh, didn’t have much choice. It’s what my dad wanted. He’d kill me if I quit playing.”
Omigod. I want to launch myself across the room and hug him, and not because of my old crush. I feel terrible for him. I always thought he loved being king of the football team.
“That’s hard,” Ashley says, her voice so quiet I can barely hear her. “I can relate. My mom says the only way I’ll go to college is if I get a scholarship. She says college is for rich kids. Not people like us.” She stares at the floor and a single tear trickles down her cheek, making me regret every snarky thought I’ve had about her. “She says I can always get a job as a model or find some rich guy to marry.” She swipes away the tear and lifts her head, her jaw clenched with determination. “But that’s not what I want. It’s not the fifties. I’m not just gonna sit around and look pretty until some guy saves me. I have my own dreams. I just have to figure out how to make them happen.”
Now I want to hug Ashley, too, but Trish beats me to it. She scoots next to her and wraps her arm around Ashley’s shoulders. “You can make it happen, Ashley. I’d bet on you.”
Elijah blows out a long breath. “Okay, if we’re doing true confessions, I guess I’m next.”
My eyes snap to him, and anxiety floods my nervous system. He’s such a great guy, I’m almost afraid to hear his secret.
“Sooo…I grew up thinking I could go to whatever college I wanted, right? My dad had a great job and we lived in a nice house and my sister and I pretty much got whatever we wanted.”
He stops, and we all wait. Next to me, Carlos turns and leans a shoulder against the wall so he can face Elijah directly. Which means I’m in his direct line of sight, too. Flustered, I follow his lead and turn to face Elijah. At least Carlos is staring at my back now.
Elijah’s lips pucker in a rueful smile. “But when I was a freshman, it all came crashing down. My dad lost his job and then we had to sell our house. My mom went back to work—got a job as a secretary, but that doesn’t pay much. Not enough to live like we used to, that’s for sure. My dad just…checked out.” He closes his eyes and leans back against a file box. “We’re poor enough I can probably get some scholarship money, but my grades tanked when all that crap was going down. I pulled them up last year, but I know it hurts my chances.” He opens his eyes and his gaze lands on me. “That’s the cool thing about this scholarship. Your dad made it so we don’t have to be superstar students to have a shot.”
He did? I’m embarrassed to realize I don’t even know the scholarship criteria. On top of that, I feel like a spoiled princess listening to how hard it is for everyone. Dad was right when he said I didn’t realize how fortunate I am. I thought I did, but listening to everyone else, I realize how clueless I’ve been.
How does Elijah stay so upbeat when his home life has cratered? His energy and humor always make me laugh. I’d never have guessed his backstory.
But I whined to Ms. Romero because my dad is too busy to have lunch with me? I’m pathetic. Dad’s the one who makes it possible for me to go after my dreams. What’s that saying about being born on third base making it easy to hit a home run? That’s me.
“You’re gonna conquer the world, dude.” Carlos’s breath tickles my neck from behind. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“And the funniest,” I say.
Elijah rolls his eyes. “Just because I can make people laugh doesn’t mean I’m gonna be successful.” When he speaks again, his voice is low. “My dad used to be a laugh riot. Not anymore.”
Ouch. I duck my head, embarrassed that I spoke up.
“It’s okay, Laurel.” Carlos’s whisper is so quiet and so close to my ear that I wonder if it’s my imagination.
“My dream is to get myself through college, then find a good enough job I can put my little sister through college,” Elijah says. “She’s only ten. That gives me eight years to get my act together, right?” He flashes his familiar grin and I wonder if it’s as much to assuage our anxiety as his own.
“You’ll do it,” Ashley says with conviction. “I believe in you.”
I believe in all of them. Maybe I should say that.
“I guess it’s my turn,” Carlos says from behind me. Everyone shifts their attention to him. I take a breath and force myself to turn around.
He glances at me, then focuses across the room. “So I really did think I’d outlast all of you on that first day, but now I see how wrong I was. You’re all tougher than me. Honestly, I’m lucky. My family’s awesome. There’s just too many of us.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m kidding. But that’s partly why there’s not much money for college. I’m one of five kids. We own a restaurant. It does okay, but not well enough to put five kids through college.”
The pictures from his family website pop to mind. One of these days I want to meet them. The way he talks, I can tell he loves them. And if the rest of them are half as amazing as him, I have to meet them. Someday, somehow.
“I almost feel like I should drop out of this competition,” Carlos says, and my heart stops. “I mean, you all honestly need this more than me. I can work my way through CU Denver if I have to and live at home.” He glances at me again, his mouth curving into a smile I want to nibble. “That’s what Laurel’s dad did and look how he turned out.”
“Word,” says Elijah. “I guess I could do that, too. But I kinda want to get out of my house, ya know?”
“Hell yeah,” Jason pipes up. “I’ve gotta get away from my dad.” His gaze sweeps around the room. “You know why I was late the first day? My dad was drunk the night before and I had to pick him up at the bar. We got home and he grabbed my keys and chucked them out the window. Said if he couldn’t drive, then neither could I.”
Oh God.
“So I took the bus, but it was late, and I missed my transfer by like two minutes.” He glances at me sheepishly. “Good thing Laurel voted for me to stay.” He shoots embarrassed smiles at Ashley and Trish. “You, too.”
Carlos coughs next to me. I wonder if he’s remembering how he stared Jason down and refused to raise his hand for him to stay.
“You’re all amazing,” Trish says. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to everyone.” She tugs at her blue hair. “I’ve been in a pissy mood because the internship I’d lined up in DC fell through at the last minute. My dad said I could work here instead.” She snorts. “I wasn’t happy. It felt like such a comedown, after almost interning in DC.”
She looks at each intern, taking her time to go around the circle. “But you all put me to shame. I mean, yeah, my dad’s a nutcase, but he’s not like, well, like some of your situations. And I’m lucky that I only have to do small student loans.”
I’m surprised she has to take out any loans. Does this mean my dad doesn’t pay her dad well enough? I can’t imagine that, but I squirm restlessly.
“I’m a sucker for bitchy girls,” Elijah leers at Trish. “Total turn-on.” She winks at him and licks her lips.
No matter where he goes to school he’s going to kick butt.
“So.” Trish turns to me. “I guess it’s your turn. Any deep dark secrets you want to share?” She hesitates. “Only if you want to.” Coming from Trish, that’s like a giant, squishy hug.
I wilt under everyone’s attention. What can I possibly say? I even have a freaking pony, for God’s sake. I have my own car. I don’t have to work my way through college. My parents love me. So does my sister.
“If anyone doesn’t deserve to be here, it’s me,” I say. My voice sounds wobbly and I hate it. I wish for some of Trish’s confidence and bluster.
Ashley clears her throat and looks me in the eye. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you? You said you aren’t competing for the scholarship.” She sounds nervous, and I wonder what she thinks of me.
It’s my turn to stare at my lap and worry a loose thread. “I wanted to. I had to beg my dad to hire me.” I laugh, but it sounds bitter. “He didn’t want me to do this, and I can see why.” I shrug. “It’s not like I’m useful around here. But I guess I wore him down.” I shrug, still toying with a loose thread. “I don’t see him much at home. He works all the time.” I look up and meet Elijah’s dark gaze. “And I’m grateful for that. I can’t imagine him not working.”
My reasons seem so petty and ridiculous in the face of what I’ve learned. But I owe them honesty, after all they’ve shared with me. I swallow and look Ashley in the eye. “It sounds dumb, but I wanted to spend time with my dad. I figured at least we’d spend our carpool time together.” I squeeze my eyes shut but keep talking. “You know what’s stupid? I’ve been upset because my dad’s been too busy to have lunch with me since I started this job.” I open my eyes. “I know how pathetic that sounds.” I blow out a breath. “I wish you could all win the scholarship. You all deserve it.”
As soon as the words are out, my gut twists. How can I possibly pick a winner now that I know all of their backstories? The room is quiet, and I assume everyone is thinking what a spoiled brat I am, but they’re too kind to say it out loud.
The clang of a door slamming startles us. We all jump and race down the hallway. Footsteps clomp down the steel staircase and a shadowed figure approaches us, then freezes when she spots us. She reaches for her holster.
“Everybody freeze!”
“Don’t shoot!” I push to the front of the group. “I’m Mr. Kristoff’s daughter. We all work here, but accidentally got locked in.”
Trish steps up next to me. “I’m Mr. Mantoni’s daughter. He’s the one who brought us down here to work in the file room. Go ahead and check with him, but let us out of here first.”
The guard steps closer and sweeps her flashlight over us. She must decide we’re harmless, because her next words are what we’ve been waiting for.
“All right. Grab your stuff and let’s go upstairs.”
In the blink of an eye, we grab cell phones and all the Pixy Stix, for some reason, and rush up the stairs. We emerge into the main lobby, blinking like newborn kittens.
Mr. Mantoni joins us, summoned by the security guard. He looks even more stressed than usual. He apologizes to us for “the incident.” He didn’t realize he’d locked the door behind him, and he assumed we’d all left at five o’clock, in spite of his threats. He said he was preoccupied by a “pressing issue” and didn’t think to come check on us.
Everyone laughs and chatters like we just came off a roller coaster. Everything’s back to normal, yet everything has shifted. I step away from the group and pretend to read a text as I compose myself. I breathe in and out, counting to twenty to calm my nerves. I glance up at the laughing group and wonder what my place is with them.
Or if I even have a place.