Page 12 of Salvation

“You smoke a lot of weed or something?"

A laugh bubbles up in my chest, and I cover my mouth, completely shocked by her question. “What? No,” I respond, still teetering between shock and laughter. She glances down at the turtle with raised brows.

“It’s for a friend.”

“She smokes a lot of weed, then.” This kid is hilarious.But I don’t say that.

“Er-no…aren’t you like twelve?” I crane my neck around the store to see if there’s anyone taller roaming around. “Why do you know what weed looks like?”

“I’m seventeen.” she deadpans, and I try not to wince at the look she’s giving me.

“…Right. Well, just this please.”

“That’ll be five dollars,” she says, smacking her gum. As I go to hand her cash, I catch a glimpse of a nasty bruise marring her wrist and slipping out from her long-sleeve shirt.

“Ouch. How’d you get that?” I nod towards her arm, and she rips it back, tugging the sleeve down to conceal what I’ve already seen and sitting up straighter in her chair. “I fell,” she snaps.

My brows shoot up at her quick answer. Before I can say anything else, a soft voice from beside us calls out, “Elain, why didn’t you say we had a customer?” An older lady, probably in her mid to late 40s, hobbles into view. Her hair is the same light brown as Elain’s, and it’s easy to place that it’s her mom.

“I was just finishing up. Your daughter was super helpful in helping me pick out a gift.” I wiggle the small white bag that houses the turtle after Elain pushes it towards me on the counter. I shoot a playful wink her way, causing her to look at me oddly before glancing behind her mother as if checking for someone.

“Well, I have to run some more errands. Thanks for the help.” I chirp. My phone buzzes, and I nearly bump into a shelf on the way out because of it.

Mom:

Can you pick up some toothpaste before I grab you later? I forgot it when I went grocery shopping.

Sure

Hope you’re having fun with Wesley. I have to help Ana with something, so I’ll pick you up in about an hour

Or two

I roll my eyes, but her texts remind me that I need to get a car. The deafening sound of thunder looms overhead as I type my response.

I’m going to call the airport and get a rental car

Why? There’s an extra one in the garage you can use.

I narrow my eyes at the text, like I can somehow manifest that she sees it. Of course there is, and of course she would hide that little detail so I couldn’t protest going with Wesley orat leasttake a separate freaking vehicle. She may be getting older, but she’s not senile enough to fool me. She knew about it before and deliberately didn’t tell me. I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking, so I find myself barreling into a hard wall and nearly falling flat on my ass. My phone tumbles away, landing so hard on the concrete I’m sure it’s cracked even worse than it already has. “Oh, sorry, Hun. I didn’t see you there.”

Not a wall. A man. A manIknow.He bends down to pick up my phone, stretching out his hand to give it back to me. His eyes light up with recognition as he finally looks at me, and I wince. I was hoping he wouldn’t.

“Blake Warner! That’s so funny. I was just headed out of town to see your father today,” he says, oblivious to the mental turmoil he's fueling with every word.

Nausea bubbles in my stomach, and fear lances through me. Jason. One of my father’s closest friends. Probablytheonlyfriend my father has. I should have known he’d still see him, even if it’s behind a glass wall. He’s going to tell him that hesaw me.He’s going to tell him that I’mhome.

I do the only thing I can think of. Lie my ass off, and hope it works. I feign confusion, taking my phone back like I’m completely weirded out. “I’m sorry. My name’s not Blake.”

“Oh,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just look so much like this kid I know.”

“Sorry. Have a nice day.” I turn back the way I came. Trying and failing to make it look casual. Once I turn a corner, I allow my steps to slow. I place my hand on my forehead as I lean against a cool, hard wall.I’m being crazy.

I’m being crazy.

I have to tell myself that a couple more times in order to calm my heart rate enough to peel myself away from the wall. I break into a walk that probably looks much more like a sprint to the others on the street as I head towards Buddies’.

Chapter 12

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