Page 31 of Together We Rot

“I’ve got a bike.”

“So you’re suggesting we skid down icy streets totally in the open?”

Damn him for making sense. I massage the tension between my eyes and rack my brain for anything useful. Walking is an obvious no, and Dad’s car is a rusted hunk of junk, and loud, at that. The horn might as well honk Elwood’s name into the streets. They’d see it immediately. How else could we possibly get there?

Seriously, Wil, anything you need. I’ll be here. Anarchy sisters for life, remember?

“I think I’ve got an idea.”

My fingers glide over Ronnie’s number. With the numbers punched in, I count each ring. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Yello?”

That is most definitely not the voice I wanted to hear. Lucas yawns into the other end, his voice thick with sleep. I hear the rustle of bedsheets, the swipe of a hand to his eyes.

Goddamn it, the two of them hooked up.

“I’m sorry, I thought I called Ronnie’s phone. If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve chanted NFL three times in the mirror.” I’m genuinely pissed now. Elwood goes full deer-in-the-headlights at me. I wave him away.

Lucas’s whole tone shifts. “You’ve got some nerve. I still can’t believe you shoved me back at Earl’s.”

“Yeah, whatever, I didn’t call to talk about your bruised ego,” I interject.

“Asshole,” he huffs. Luckily, he doesn’t hang up on me right then and there. “What did you call for?” It’s less of a question and more of an accusation. An interrogation lamp swung my way. I envision his face tensing, his brows pushing inward.

“To talk to Ronnie. This is her phone, after all.”

He can’t argue with that. I hear the click of a speakerphone.

“Who is it?” Ronnie mumbles in the background. I can picture her face smashed into one of Lucas’s pillows. Her makeup is probably smudged from last night, and her hair is frizzy the way it always is in the morning before she smooths it out.

“Wil,” Lucas grumbles.

My name’s as good as coffee to her. Hell, it’s better than cocaine. It wakes her up fast. “Wil! Hi! Sorry! I can explain. Lucas and I... After I dropped you off, I mean, well... He texted me and...”

“Yeah, this isn’t the first time y’all have hooked up. I know the drill.” Ronnie’s one of those people who has to make a mistake a million times before she gives something up. Same with her prehistoric straightener that kept singeing off her hair. Took her ages to throw that thing in the trash, and by then she’d lost entire chunks of her hair.

“Um...” She still sounds guilty as hell. She strains for a subject change. “What’s up?”

Elwood scooches in closer to listen, and I have to inch away from him to keep his shoulder from touching mine.

I highly doubt the police are sophisticated enough to tap phones, but I’m not gonna risk it.

“I was hoping for a ride,” I say, which, in all honesty, isn’t a lie.

“A ride?” she repeats. “To where?”

“The library.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. The library’s closed, duh,” Lucas says, only to immediately get punched in the shoulder. He winces, letting out an “Owww” underneath his breath. I nearly forgot the two of them were on speakerphone.

“Don’t be a jerk.”

“Lucas, if you want a black eye, all you had to do was ask,” I snap, and I hope he knows I mean it. “I don’t care if it’s closed. I need a ride.”

“Can’t it wait?” Lucas tries again, probably wanting to get back to whatever godless act he was in the middle of before I called him. On Christmas Eve, of all days. Though I do have to commend Ronnie on her sneaking-out ability.

“No,” I respond, with all the fake sweetness I can muster. “It can’t.”

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