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His unamused look makes me want to kick it up a notch higher, but I stop.
This guy seriously has a football stuck up his butt. I hope they find it before game time.Sheesh.
I look around the elevator, more than ready to get out of here. “Does this get stuck often?”
He’s moved on to some other kind of stretch that involves moving his feet. “If it did, I wouldn’t have gotten on.”
Good grief, this guy. I should cut him slack. All that arrogance would be a heavy load to carry.
My stomach growls in the quiet, and my jailmate raises his eyebrows, hunger gaining another strike against me.
He reaches for his bag and digs around before tossing an energy bar at me. “You should eat.”
“Do I need to worry it's laced with something?” I just can’t help myself.
He goes back to his silent…whatever he’s doing, and I know I need to eat if I’m going to make it. I pull the wrapper open and take a bite of the peanut butter bar just as my phone starts ringing. I slip it out of the side pocket of my backpack. It’s my mom.Just great.
I don’t want to answer it, not only because talking to her in front of another person, let alone this guy, will be uncomfortable at best, but also if she knew what I was doing today, I’d never hear the end of it. What I know, though, is that if I don’t answerit, she’ll just keep calling, and I don’t need anything else hanging over my head today.
I swallow my bite of the bar, shove my chin to my chest, and swipe to answer. “Hey.”
“Andrea, is that any way to greet a caller? The informality is impolite.”
“Hello. How’s that?” I peek from underneath my eyelashes as my partner in captivity is back to being engrossed in his phone, but I know there’s no way to avoid listening to this exchange.
“Andrea, I don’t have time for your dramatics. I’m calling you about the benefit. I’ve yet to receive your response in the mail, and even though you must come, I want to be sure that you aren’t trying to slip your way out of this one. You know how important this is. I already have a piece picked out for you.”
Only my mother would send a formal invitation in the mail to her only daughter, which is bad enough, but then also expect a proper reply.
“I told you I’d think about it.” It’s best to keep it short and sweet, but this response will be unacceptable.
“Andrea, you’ve used one excuse after another for far too long. You can’t keep going on like this. It’s time to come home and finally get your life together. I’ll put you down for the chicken and expect you an hour early.”
I close my eyes, inhaling through my nose. I accepted long ago that my parents would never change. Someday, maybe they’ll understand that I won’t be returning to the only lifestyle or the facade acceptable to them.
“We both know that extra seat won’t put you out if I can’t make it.” I attempt to stay as calm and quiet as possible.
“Andrea, you’ve been avoiding your place long enough. It’s time to put these silly, rebellious antics behind you. Besides, your father and I have decided to make you the focus of thisyear's event. Please don’t embarrass us by not showing. There’s no way to find someone to replace you this close to the date.”
I clench my jaw. She just had to wiggle the knife in a little further. She seriously should be the one who holds a scalpel for a living. She’ll never understand that my silly little choices brought me the greatest joys of my life.
Screw it. I rest back against the wall. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Either the connection is bad, or your nose has finally reached a height where the blood isn’t flowing properly to your brain. Either way, I’ll let you know when I’m good and ready. Until then, I have to go.”
I hang up and toss my phone back into my bag, forgetting about the man sitting next to me. My eyes snap to him, and he’s looking at me like…something.
“Sounded like a lovely conversation.”
“Yeah. This morning has been full of delightful exchanges,” I huff. “If you ever want to talk to the devil herself, let me know. I’ll give you her number.”
He laughs. He actually laughs, his head falling back against his wall. It’s low and soft, and I expect the elevator to start free-falling at any moment. One dimple pops in his cheek. Who would’ve ever guessed there was a dimple hidden in there? I bet no one’s ever seen it before. This could be a monumental discovery, and I almost reach for my phone to capture it.Sports Illustratedwould probably pay millions for the rare glimpse. I resist, feeling sorry for the little concave patch of skin. That cute little dimple never gets show time with all that stiffness.
I smile, and somehow, it loosens the tightness around my chest that could only be caused by my mother.
I survey our space, not wanting to talk anymore about what he just overheard. “I feel like we should be taking stock of our supplies and figuring out what we can use to unscrew the ceiling panel.”
As if he’s turned into a sloth, his head drags sooooo slowly in my direction like he’s back to being bored, and I feel like I should take offense to that, but whatever. Our little moment born of my misery and embarrassment is over.
All I know is they better get us out of here before I have to go to the bathroom. This guy already thinks very little of me. Going number anything in front of him will put us on a whole new level that I’m not at all comfortable with.
