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“I’ll be fine on my own,” Tristan said.
“You won’t. You have no money. You don’t know who you are.” I threw up my hands as far as I could without banging my fingers into the roof of the car. “Why are we even having this conversation again?”
“Sweetie.” Layana gave me a pitying smile. “Because this savior-complex behavior is what got us kicked out of our apartment. You bring these two with you, you’ll get kicked out of the hotel, too.”
“I won’t,” I said.
I didn’t know how I wouldn’t. But I couldn’t let that happen. This was our last chance, our only hope, and I wouldn’t screw up. I’d figure out how to make it work. At least this time I wasn’t risking Layana’s place to live, only my own. I’d do my best to support her, to stay in whatever hellish circumstances the show would rain down upon me, and to be happy for my best friend at all costs.
“I can sleep in the car,” Tristan said.
“No,” Layana told him. “You can’t.”
“This conversation is over,” I said, pointing at both of them. “Tristan stays with me.”
Neither of them said another word as we drove to the hotel. No one complained or argued as we snuck Miso and Tristan in the side door. And no one woke me when I crashed onto the mattress and fell asleep.
FIFTEEN
TRISTAN
Morgan collapsed on the bed, face down, limbs spread like a starfish. She fell asleep immediately, her breathing deep and even, her back rising and falling with each breath.
She was an adorable sleeper.
She must have been exhausted after the night we’d had, not to mention the fact that she’d spent all the time prior in a hospital waiting room.
She was also a hopeless mess, and too selfless for her own good. Why she was going to such lengths to help me, I couldn’t fathom. Our situation was temporary. I wished I didn’t need her help, but I did. For now.
I waited for a bit, hanging out in one of the room’s two chairs. Then when I was content that she was out cold, I slipped out of the hotel room and into the hall as silently as possible so as not to disturb her slumber.
“You hurt her, I will carve your balls into Swiss cheese.”
The greeting was low in volume, dark in tone.
I clicked the door shut.
“Hello, Layana,” I said, meeting what was likely supposed to be a threatening stare.
She had been waiting here for me. This was an ambush.
Layana leaned against the wall directly across the hall, her left foot propped against the cream wallpaper, her arms crossed over her chest. She’d braided her hair and formed it into two buns that peeked out from beneath her ears. She’d changed her shirt, too, and now wore the same sleeveless NCU tee that Morgan had been wearing since we met.
“Nothing better to do than stand around?” I asked.
“No.” She scoffed. “I have plenty going on.”
I turned my attention elsewhere and strolled down the hall toward the elevator.
When I was halfway there, Layana snaked her way in front of me and shoved her finger in my face. “I’m watching you.”
“Noted.” I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to swat her hand away. My situation would be far more tolerable if I didn’t have to put up with this childish behavior. The best way to achieve that goal was to go out of my way not to antagonize her further. It wouldn’t be easy. Distraction could help. “Did you and Morgan meet at university?”
She dropped her finger. “University? What are you, British? Or pretending to be British? You don’t have the right accent for it.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I said. “I don’t know where I’m from.”
This was not going as intended.
