Page 96 of So Thirsty

She shakes her head. “I’m on your side, you know. We’re in this together. And for what it’s worth, you’re not the only one struggling here.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” she says, scoffing. “How come you’re mad at me but are happy to share a bed with him? He doesn’t get any of the blame for our little situation here?”

“I…I…” I hate it when she’s right. “It’s different.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Guess so.”

“We don’t have time for this,” I say, diverting because I’m embarrassed by my hypocrisy. “If we want to get to Wilmington, we need to leave now.”

“Fine,” she says.

We join the rest of the group in the main room. Tatiana rolls up her blanket. Ilie pushes the tables and chairs back against the wall. Elisa is…

“Where’s Elisa?” I ask.

“Oh, hello, sleepyhead!” Ilie says. “She went to get the bus. We change cars. I miss my car, but Costel and Miri take it.”

“Are they still in New York?” I ask.

“Who knows?” Tatiana says, stretching. “Let’s get a hotel tomorrow. Something nice. How much cash did you get out of the register last night?”

“Three hundred something,” Ilie says.

I shouldn’t be scandalized or surprised, but I am. “You robbed the convenience store?”

“Why burn money?” Ilie asks. “Are we ready to go? Naomi, Sloane, what do you think of the castle? It is nice, yes? Cool place.”

Neither of us respond. I’m hung up on the robbery because it reminds me of the gas station and the murders and that whole sick, horrible mess. Naomi just stares out into space.

“I think it is cool,” Ilie says to himself.

We shuffle outside as Elisa pulls up in a 1980s camper van. It’s brown and beige with an orange stripe across the side. It’s in rough shape.

“Where did this come from?” I ask Henry.

“Some guy,” Ilie says.

“Wait, what? When?” Why do I ask questions I don’t want the answers to?

“Long time ago,” Ilie says.

“We keep it here in case we need it,” Henry says, opening the camper door for us. “There’s an employee parking lot on the other side of the grounds.”

The inside of the camper is just as dated as the outside. There’s bench seating covered in brown and orange upholstery that wraps around the back of the van in a U shape. The windows are hidden behind burlap curtains. There’s also a curtain that separates us from the two seats up front.

Ilie and Henry get into the back with me and Naomi.

I ask about our suitcases.

“Your luggage is on top,” Elisa calls from the driver’s seat, from the other side of the curtain.

“Do you need something?” Henry asks, sitting beside me.

“It’d be nice to change my clothes eventually,” I say, reaching for my seat belt, which goes across just the waist, not the chest. I’m still rattled from yesterday’s crash. “When we get to the house.”

I look at Naomi, who sits across from me, still with that glassy-eyed stare.