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“Well, no,” she rolls her eyes. “But we both know Bernie needed to be...calmed.”
“Why’s that?”
Nicole shrugs.
“She can be a little intense. Apparently, she tried to slip something into your drink. I didn’t know about that.”
Her fake sympathy isn’t going to work on me. “Aren’t you worried her friends will come looking for her? Don’t you think people will suspect you?”
Nicole laughs now, and the sound terrifies me.
“Oh, honey,” she shakes her head. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
If I can keep her talking, then maybe I can get her to launch into a lengthy monologue that will give me a chance to run away. If she keeps chattering, she’s going to let her guard down eventually. She has to. There’s no way to keep talking and talking and not let your guard down.
No one can screech incessantly forever.
Not even her.
“What do you mean? You were camping. Girl’s week. Something like that. Maybe you guys were having boyfriend troubles. I don’t know.” I shrug, acting like I don’t really care. This seems to bother Nicole because she tenses. The gun wavers slightly, but she keeps her grip on it.
“We’re important,” she says. “I am important.”
“Okay.”
“We work for a special organization,” she says smugly. She sneers at me, but doesn’t say anything else. Is she waiting for me to ask her what company she works for? Is this really the time for that?
Teaching kids has taught me a lot of things and one of the things I learned early on is that the loudest kids, the ones who need you to be most impressed with them, are often the most neglected. They have these empty voids in their lives at home, so they need other people to think they’re great. Nicole is acting like one of those children. She looks like she’s spiraling out of control, like she’ll do anything to just feel like someone likes her and appreciates her.
Maybe that’s the secret to getting out of here, but I don’t think so.
Someone like Nicole is used to getting her way. She’s made it this far because people are intimidated by her, but I’m not. I’m not going to let some clown be the reason I don’t make it home. She’s insecure, and she’s upset, and she’s used to people worshipping her when she tells them to.
“Cool.”
It’s all I say.
Just one word.
It seems to in
furiate her, though.
Good, she’s losing control. This means she’s going to be closer to making a mistake, closer to letting me go. She won’t see it that way, but I do. I’ll make a harrowing escape. I have to. I’m clever, I remind myself. I can outsmart her if I just stay calm. If I just stay cool. I can do this. I can beat her.
“Cool?” She growls, spitting the word out. “That’s all you have to say?”
“I mean, I guess I don’t know that much about special organizations. You like your job?”
Her jaw drops.
“Of course.”
“That’s nice. So many people don’t, you know.”
“My job is very important.”
“Yeah, mine too. I guess we all feel that way, though. No matter what we’re doing, we can change the world around us one day at a time. That’s so important, isn’t it? You know.” I nod.
