Page 47 of The Sidekick

Touché jerk.

“You have a cash-only job that doesn't require any paperwork, and your apartment is being sublet to you, so it doesn’t have any info either. You’d need a place to sleep as you travel.”

“Ok, stop it,” I snap at the super genius sitting behind me.

“Tell me honestly, is subletting such a run-down apartment common?” He doesn’t sound mocking. He’s curious.

I glare at him, refusing to answer. Stupid rich jerk.

“Who else knows I’m here?”

“Nobody,” he answers with a smirk. “Where are we going?”

“I’m finding myself some chocolate and a soda that doesn’t have your rude germs on it. You are getting on a bus or whatever and going home.”

“Nah. I like it here,” he settles back in the seat as if he’s gluing himself to it.

“Really,” I deadpan. “Which apartment are you going to rent? I heard the second floor has a roach problem.”

He can’t hide his wince, and I smile smugly.

I park at the first convenience store I find and tell him flatly, “Get out and go home.”

But no, he follows me into the store as if he has every right to be there.

“Go away,” I hiss at him, which draws the lone cashier’s wary attention.

He shrugs and beelines to the chip section. I collect a whole armful of candy bars and a single soda. When I get to the register, Shade rejoins me and tosses a bag of chips and a 12-pack of sodas onto my order while I glare at him.

“What? I’ve been on the road nonstop. The least you can do is feed me,” he defends.

I give in with a roll of my eyes. It’s not like I asked him to come here. He could have saved us both some trouble and mailed me a letter I wouldn’t open.

When it comes time to pay, he pulls out his card, and I slap it out of his hand.

“Are you crazy? They’ll track you using that!”

Both he and the cashier give me identical looks of surprise. I’m surprised at myself. I just smacked him. Why am I concerned about them finding him? It’s obvious if he knows where I am, then they do, too. I’m being dramatic and ridiculous again.

“Here,” I toss some cash at the guy, too much, really, and grab my bag to escape. My face feels like it’s on fire with how embarrassed I am.

I figured Shade would be weighed down with the 12-pack, so I could get to my car and lock the doors before he caught up.

No such luck.

He’s practically velcroed to my butt and snatches my keys to let himself in before tossing them onto the driver’s seat. I wish I had a second can of silly string or some actual mace right now.

“Where to now?” He asks innocently, and I ignore him as if he would disappear.

When I get back to my place, he follows me up the stairs to the fifth floor and puts his foot in the door so I can’t close it in his face. I give up on physical force because it’s not really my specialty and go back to ignoring him.

“No computer?” He sounds disappointed as he makes himself at home on my thrift store couch.

“No,” dang it, all I had to do was stay quiet.

“No TV?”

Obviously, jeez.

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