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Why isit that you always seem to know where something is until you need it? It's like the second it becomes important to you, it's nowhere to be found. But any other time, you're constantly seeing it.
I guess a part of it is my fault as I rip through one of the two suitcases I haven't unpacked yet. I waited until a half hour before my interview to look for my birth certificate and social security card. But, in my defense, I haven't had to work a day in my life until now. If it wasn't for Noah reminding me to bring them with me, I wouldn't have even known I need them.
Realizing they're not in this one, I grab the other suitcase and pour the whole thing out onto my bed. It makes a total mess, but that's not my concern right now. Finally, I spot the familiar envelope I've always kept my important documents inside. As I pick it up, however, I notice a small book underneath it that I don't recognize.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, wondering if it's something from my childhood that maybe I forgot, but when I open it up and see the familiar handwriting inside, I realize exactly what this is.
Davianna's diary.
From time to time, I used to see her writing away inside a notebook or two, but I never thought it was a constant thing. Then again, Davi was always full of secrets. This is no different.
Staring at the first entry, a part of me wonders if I should read it. Reading someone's diary is one of the biggest invasions of privacy, and I don't even know how it ended up with my things. But then again, how important is her privacy now? She's dead.
My phone rings and I jump, my heart pounding inside my chest at the sudden noise. I take a second to calm my breathing and bring the phone to my ear.
"I told you I'd be right there," I snap.
Noah chuckles. "Well, you better move your little ass. Your interview is in fifteen minutes, and we're ten minutes away."
"Fuck."
I hang up the phone and grab the envelope before running out the door, leaving the diary momentarily forgotten on my nightstand.
Noah is parked right outside my building, and I quickly open the door and climb in. He watches me with amusement while I pull down the visor and open the mirror to make sure my makeup is still on point. When I'm done, I look over at him expectantly but get no response.
"Well?" I press. "Did you bring the résumé?"
With his eyes trained on the road, he reaches behind us and grabs the piece of paper from the backseat. "You mean this? I mean I wouldn't exactly call it a résumé. There's no employment history on it."
"And?"
"Tye, that's the most important part."
I groan and run my fingers through my hair. "Everyone has to start somewhere, okay?"
He chuckles softly. "Fair enough."
My tension eases as he gives up the fight, but when I go to take the paper from him, he pulls it just out of reach.
"Ah, ah," he tuts. "This is going to cost you."
Stonefaced, I stare back at him. "If you think I'm going to sleep with you because you printed something for me—"
"Jesus, Tye. That's not where I was going with this." He cringes. "Besides, I'm starting to think I couldn't handle you."
I shrug. That's probably an accurate assumption. "So then, what do you want?"
"Say we're friends," he replies with a smirk.
"Oh my God. You're such a girl!"
"Nope. Try again."
"This is ridiculous."
He opens his window as we drive at least thirty miles an hour down the street. "I'll give you one more chance before I throw it out the window."
"Noah!" I shout, trying to take it from him, but he swerves and makes me fall back into my seat.
