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“You are hiding something. Spit it out. Now.”
I guess the downside of living with each other is that we pick up on each other’s emotions and signals. “So, I got a weird text from an unknown caller.”
“What type of text? What did it say?” she demands.
“‘Girls like you should be careful.’”
“Holy shit. What does that even mean?”
“Not sure. I haven’t gotten any more texts. May have just been the wrong number.”
“Regardless, that is super messed-up. No idea who it’s from? Was someone following you? Where’s your car now? Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to walk home alone at night in the rain? I could seriously tackle you right now.”
“Easy, hun, go easy on her,” Ethan chimes in, joining us in the living room. His expression is that of what I assume to be a satisfied man. “Hey, Angie.”
“Hi.” I push myself up from the couch and switch to the solo chair, curling my feet under my behind.
“You don’t have to move for me,” Ethan says suddenly.
“It’s fine, really.”
“Answer the damn questions, Angie,” Claire snaps. “Are you listening at all to this, Ethan? Someone may be after her!”
I let out a sigh. I knew I should have kept this one random act to myself. I knew she would blow this out of proportion. “My car was towed to the shop. I have no idea what the text means or who it’s from. Obviously. I don’t just give out my cell number, so the person must have lifted it from a document or got it from someone I know. My contacts list is small, so I doubt the person who texted me is someone I am in good standing with…plus, it is an unknown number. Probably a burner phone. Or maybe it was a wrong number. A silly mistake.”
“You have many enemies?” Ethan asks softly.
I answer “no” as Claire yells “yes” over top of me. I turn to glare at her.
“But you do, Angie. You have that douchebag Russell who is pissed at you for trashing his precious douchebaggy stuff. And you probably have enemies from the night at The Shack. Top that off with this fierce competition for an internship.” She lets out an exaggerated exhale, obviously bothered. “You probably irritated some classmate and don’t even realize it.”
I turn to Ethan. “I have no known enemies. I keep a low profile in classes and stay under the radar with my research and coursework. No one should really view me as a threat. I have not dated many people, and Russell was the one who dumped me. But he is a trust fund baby and can replenish his stupid supply of clothes and tennis rackets. Or his daddy can.”
“But a text seems like a targeted attack on you. This is not a random act,” Claire reminds me.
“Yeah, I know, and trust me, I am freaked out too.”
“Now I am afraid to even leave you this weekend,” she whines.
“What’s going on this weekend?”
“Ethan and I are taking his son, Finn, camping at his cabin in Goldendale.”
“Washington state?” I ask.
“Yeah, so you will have until Saturday free of us,” Claire responds, prancing around the room like a fairy.
I try to contain my frown at being granted a weekend without the company—even if it is sporadic at times—of Claire. They will be two hours away from Portland. “Sounds fun. Take pictures, especially if you have to hunt for your food and cook it over an open flame.” I watch as she stops her dancing and stares at me, mouth gaping. “I would pay to see something like that,” I continue, stone-faced.
She turns to Ethan with bulging eyes, making him chuckle at her fear. “I promised you, babe, it’s not your average camping. Full kitchen, master bedroom, and bath. Even electricity.”
Claire and I look at each other and say in unison, “Glamping.”
“Sure,” Ethan says, “with mall shopping a town away.”
“Whew,” she exhales, “that sounds much better than my daytime nightmare I was having right now.”
I giggle.
