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“COME HOME,” it says in drama-caps. “ALAN IS AT YOUR HOUSE. SO IS LOCHLAN. SOS.”
“Save our souls?” says Jett, looking over my shoulder. “Who’s Alan?”
“Umm…”
Where to even start with this one?
“Sorry,” he says, holding his hands up. “None of my business, I get it. I shouldn’t even have read it.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, reading the message again in the vague hope it might have changed since the first time.
Nope, it’s no good: it looks like my two potential dads are definitely at my house.
And so is Mum.
Which meansIreally need to be there too; and as soon as I possibly can be.
“Alan’s another potential dad,” I tell Jett, trying to sound like this is a completely normal situation. “He popped up this morning. He called Mum, apparently. She says he’s an ex of hers, so who knows? I guess it could be true.”
“Whoa,” says Jett, his eyes widening. “That’s wild even for you, Lexie. So there are two of them now? What are they planning to do, duke it out? Rap battle?”
I smile in spite of myself. I love the way Jett can always make me do that, no matter how shitty the situation. And this is one hell of a shitty situation: even, as he said, for me.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But, listen, Jett; I really need to get home to deal with this. But I don’t think I can drive.”
We both look down at my ankle accusingly.
“Do you think you could… um, get your driver to take me?” I ask, wishing I didn’t have to do this. The whole ‘injured heroine’ thing was turning out to be pretty fun, but the ‘My Two Dads’ bit is a seriously unwelcome addition to the script. “If you can find him, that is? If you can’t, it’s fine,” I go on in a rush. “I can call someone else, it’s no problem. It’s McTavish’s day off; he should be able to come and get me.”
“I’ll take you,” says Jett instantly. “I’d rather take you to the hospital, though. I really think you should get your ankle looked at.”
“I’ll go after … this,” I tell him imploringly, not even really sure what “this” is. “Please, Jett. My ankle feels much better now, anyway.”
I put my foot on the ground to prove my point, letting out a gasp of pain which I try unsuccessfully to stifle.
“Come on,” says Jett, looping an arm around my waist and helping me limp over to the orange car. “Give me your car keys. We better get out of here before Violet and Duval have time to figure out I’m not coming back.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, suddenly guilty. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, Jett. I know how much this movie means to you.”
And the fact that I don’t want you to do it — not if it means kissing Violet — doesn’t really come into it.
“You’ve been getting me into trouble since the day I met you, Lexie,” says Jett, smiling for the first time since I caught him and Violet entwined against a tree. “And anyway, I’m Jett Carter: I don’tgetinto trouble. They don’t have a movie without me, so if I want to take a few hours off, I guess they’re just gonna have to live with it.”
I grin back as I hand over the car keys. He reaches out to take them from me, but I don’t let go, so, for a moment, we just stand there smiling kind of goofily at each other. Then, “Jett!” comes Violet’s voice, interrupting the moment. “Jett, where are you going?”
Leave it to Violet to ruin every single second of my life…
She’s running along the beach, with the rest of the Macbeth crew a short distance behind her. Her dark hair streams out behind her as she runs, and the silky pink gown billows around her slender body as if there’s a wind machine pointing at her.
I know perfectly well that the Loch Keld Monster is just a story, made up by the locals to try to steal some of the tourist money from Loch Ness, but I can’t help wishing it was real. And that it would pop its head out of the water and eat her up.
Wishful thinking.
“Shit,” says Jett, who I’m guessingisn’tthinking along similar lines, but who looks ever so slightly panicked, nonetheless. “Come on, Lady M: get into the getaway car.”
He unlocks the doors, and I ease myself into the passenger seat as quickly as I can with my ankle still doing its best to hinder my progress.
Lady M.
