Page 38 of Enemy Crush
“Sure, ” I said, “thanks.”
I checked my phone again, hoping there might be a follow-up text, a suggestion to meet later. Mom had been excited that I’d be staying at Celeste’s overnight, but she’d reminded me to be careful with what I said. Though, by now, her polished story rolled off my tongue like it really was the truth, and even I believed that working in the hair salon was therapeutic and healing for her after the messy divorce.
I nibbled on the grilled cheese and sipped my latte, living in hope that once Naomi finished her tutoring and Celeste’s soccer was over, they’d contact me. But as I took my last delicious bite of the sandwich, my brain told me what my heart already knew—they weren’t coming.
There were buses from Pine Ridge to Snow Ridge once an hour, but the bus station was a twenty minute walk away. I set off, my mind consumed only on moving quickly, crossing the streets, clutching Bluby between my fingers. I blocked out Celeste and Naomi—if I didn’t think about it, it didn’t happen, right?
Once on the bus, I found a seat and connected to the free wifi. I called Mom to tell her I’d decided not to stay overnight and I’d meet her at the salon.
“But I’m just closing up now,” Mom said. “I’m going to a fundraiser at the Country Club.”
“What fundraiser?” It was the first I’d heard of it.
“It’s a fashion fundraiser for the children’s oncology ward.” Her voice dropped to a muffled hush. “Tongues will wag if I don’t put in an appearance. Can you get a ride home?”
“Ah, yeah...sure,” I said, a little dumbstruck.
“I won’t be too late,” Mom said. “Did you manage to mow the lawns?”
“Yeah, I did half. I’ll finish them tomorrow,” I said. It was better to spare her the news that the riding lawn mower kept stopping or that my two besties had dumped me. She didn’t need to know my problems. She was already working herself to the bone, and putting on an act at the Country Club would be stressful enough.
But now I faced my second dilemma of the day. I’d managed to navigate public transport and get from Pine Ridge to Snow Ridge, but I wasn’t totally sure of the local bus routes or schedules. If desperate, I could walk. My fitness had improved since I’d been running around the neighborhood.
I crossed the street, passing by the fast food shops, my eye catching the neon sign of Pizza Blast. I’d never ever been inside it and could see how Miller had looked at me suspiciously. Pizza Blast did not look like the kind of store Annabelle Devereaux would venture into. I hurried on.
“Hi Quinn.” At the sound of my name, I turned to see Mason waving from across the street.
“Oh, hi,” I said with a flick of my hand, slowing down but not stopping. I needed to get to the bus stop which I was certain was around the next corner, on Settler Road.
I breathed out in relief when I located it, pleased to see there was a shelter with a seat. I sat down and pulled out my phone. Surely a bus would come along soon enough.
Though my optimism waned after ten minutes when I’d yet to see a bus pass in either direction. Shivering from the chill in the evening air, I unzipped my bag to pull out my jacket, when I heard a man’s voice, “You need a ride home?”
“What?” I jumped, automatically zipping up my bag in case I was about to be mugged, only to notice the vehicle was a pickup truck and the voice belonged to Mr. Trask. “No, I’m fine.” Across from Mr. Trask, Mason waved again. I smiled back. “I’ll just wait for the bus.”
“The buses stop running at four on a Saturday,” Mr. Trask said, surprisingly kind and friendly, not rough and coarse as Mom had described him.
“Oh? Really?” I said, my shiver now one of panic. I had a fleeting vision of trekking home in the dark.
“Go on, get in,” Mr. Trask said, motioning to the backseat. “Contrary to what your mother might say, I don’t bite.”
A lump formed in my throat at this new predicament. I could imagine Mom freaking out about me hitching a ride in the Trasks’ beat up truck, (her description, not mine.) But the thought of walking all those miles, no matter how fit I was, did not appeal in the least.
I was over this day and just wanted to get home, curl up in bed and squish up to a Squishmallow or two. And forget about my sad, sad life. My two best friends in the world had ditched me, wanted nothing to do with me. Like I’d been erased—gone from their group chats, their plans, their lives.
Mr. Trask leaned further out the window. “Hey, I appreciate you helping Mason.” His soft voice contradicted his shaved head, beard and tattooed appearance. “So, how about I repay the favor, and you hop in?”
Next to him, Mason was nodding with encouragement, and all at once I was overwhelmed. It was just a ride and Mr. Trask wasn’t a monster or anything, and I really did want to get home as soon as possible.
“Okay, thank you,” I whispered, stifling an unexpected sob in my throat, my bottled emotions threatening to rise up and submerge me. I opened the car door, welcomed by the warm smell of pizza next to me on the backseat. I pulled the seat belt across me and buckled up. A country song blasted the interior but the music lowered and I realized Mason was speaking to me.
“We went to Pine Ridge and I got the next two Swords of Power books.”
“Oh, that’s great,” I said, glad for the distraction. Better to chat than dwell on riding with the enemy or the demise of my supposed life-long friendships. “I think you’ll really like them.”
“Yeah, I love Otis.” Mason’s enthusiasm was obvious and we talked about the series even though my recall was somewhat hazy. “Don’t forget you can borrow my Silver Dragon books any time.”
“I’d like that,” Mason said, “after I read these ones.”
