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Lola’s stomach growled, hunger replacing the undefined sensation that had sprouted when Carmen opened the door. With an actual key in hand, attached to an actual rhombus-shaped keychain with the hotel’s logo, Lola turned toward the stairs.
“What room are you in?” Carmen’s hazel eyes were dark gray in the dim light of the lobby.
Lola resisted the urge to shove her key in her pocket and tell her to mind her own business. Being so close to her in such a foreign place was making it impossible for Lola to find her footing. Rolling her eyes like it was a great inconvenience, Lola opened her palm and showed her the number etched in the keychain.
Carmen’s lips eased into a smile. Her eyebrow quirked. Something about her expression made Lola think she was reading lines for a terrible community play. “Your room is next to mine,” she said, her voice low and provocative. “Need a hand?”
Lola tightened her grip on her things and started for the stairs. Behind her, Carmen’s amusement was a relentless barrage.
When they reached the second floor — a place someone had adorned with more wood-paneling and distressing blood red carpeting — Carmen turned to her right.
“It’s this way,” she said, glancing back at Lola like they were about to embark on a totally awesome, bitchin’ girls trip. “I asked Dawn for two balcony rooms overlooking the town.” She stopped in front of a door and leaned against the frame.
Lola hated that Carmen had already known what room was going to be hers. That she’d gotten all the upper hands by arriving first. It had been Lola’s idea to come to California. Not hers. And now she was taking over. Making it her thing.
Instead of putting her key in the lock, Lola glowered at her. She waited in the uncomfortable silence until Carmen’s energy withered. It was an eternity before she finally registered Lola’s irritation.
Carmen sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to chalk this up to jet lag.” She pointed vaguely at Lola’s body. “Or maybe you get hangry.” She pushed off the doorway and straightened. “I left you a sandwich in there since everything closed early,” she said like it was meaningless.
Carmen started walking away, pulling a key out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m sorry it’s not the beating, human hearts you’re used to eating,” she added before unlocking the door next to Lola’s and disappearing inside.
The moment she was gone, Lola wrestled with the sticky door to her hotel room. Belatedly, she processed Carmen’s words. Flipping on the light switch, Lola was greeted by a queen-sized bed dressed in a hideous floral fabric that had also been used on the curtains drawn over what Lola guessed was the balcony.
On the dresser holding an ancient television set, Lola was accosted by something worse than ugly. It made her stomach plummet. Her heart beat out of rhythm. Her hands grew clammy and all the heat rushed out of her body. Resisting the overwhelming urge to pass out, Lola braced herself against the wallpaper-covered wall.
A square covered in butcher paper was sitting on the corner of the dresser. Next to it was a small bag of plain potato chips and a bottle of water, along with a cup of ice and a soda. Lola approached it on shaky knees, the way she might investigate whether an intruder was hiding in her house.
The wrapped sandwich was sitting on top of a stack of napkins and a note.Everyone likes turkey and Swiss, right?
Lola’s desire to puke intensified. Her body waged a war over whether to take flight or throw down for a fight. Lola had been putting out real world adult problems since she was ten, and she was totally destabilized by a fucking turkey sandwich.
She dropped onto the foot of the bed, springs squeaking when they caught her weight. Mind racing, she looked for the trick. The joke. There had to be one, just like the one she pulled downstairs.
Nobody just thought about Lola like that. Thought about whether she’d be hungry and not have anything to eat. Considered whether she’d be thirsty later. Thought about her future or present needs at all.
It’s a gag, she decided. Getting to her feet to dispel her misapprehension. Tearing open the paper, she expected to find something other than food. Needed to find the joke.
But as soon as she unwrapped it, there was no question that she was holding a very normal-looking sandwich. Uninspired on plain white bread, but packets of mustard and mayo were on the dresser to combat how dry it looked.
Lola sniffed it cautiously, making a last-ditch effort to find something wrong with it. But it looked normal. More than normal. It was warm. In a panic, she reached for the can of soda. It was ice cold.
The realizations hit her in waves. Not only had Carmen thought about what time Lola would be arriving hours ago when businesses were still open, she’d heated up her sandwich and kept the soda cold. Looking down, vision blurry and heart racing, she noticed that the ice in the cup hadn’t even started to melt. She’d only just set this out. She’d been waiting until Lola was almost there. Her flight had been delayed… had she been tracking it?
Sandwich in hand, Lola sat on the bed again. Unsure of what to do, Lola considered calling Carmen. But she didn’t trust what she would say. Didn’t know how to say thank you for something like this. Not without looking strange or opening herself up to Carmen’s teasing.
She considered texting her. That was safer. A normalthanks for the sandwich. See you in the morning. But that was so small, and this gesture was so big.
At a loss, Lola took a bite of the sandwich. The driest, most incredible thing she’d ever tasted.
CHAPTER36
In the lobby,Carmen filled two paper cups two-thirds of the way with coffee. In a tote she’d borrowed from Leslie, the very nice clerk, and the only hotel employee by the looks of it, she tossed in sugar packets and creamer cups. Leslie had also hooked her up with a packet of crackers and two apples. It wasn’t exactly road trip food, but it would be enough to get them through the morning.
Carmen chuckled to herself. Maybe they’d eat psychedelic mushrooms for lunch. She stopped for a moment, considering that maybe the girl from the shop hadn’t been repeating unsubstantiated gossip.
She didn’t know anything about drugs, but it seemed only logical they’d absorbed some hallucinogen through their skin. Could they get their hands on more? If they experienced the same out-of-body experience they had in the closet, they might just be able to link—
“What are you doing?” Lola barked accusingly, like she’d found Carmen in bed with her wife.
