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I hear the sound of Rex starting his motorcycle. I glance out the window to watch him ride away, and Bianca’s eyes follow mine.
“What’s he like?” Bianca asks. “You have to tell me everything!” She’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Well, that’s Rex,” I answer slowly. “There’s also Gunner and Zeke.”
Bianca’s eyebrows shoot up, causing horizontal wrinkles on her otherwise pristine forehead. “Three of them?” She breathes andher head tilts back slightly, as if her gaze is following down her nose.
“Yeah,” I say, shrugging nonchalantly.
“How doesthatwork?”
I giggle and feel myself turn a bright shade of tomato red. “Verywell, so far,” I confess.
Bianca stares at me, slack-jawed, until the barista calls her name to collect her coffee order. Bianca scrambles out of her seat, returning with two iced lattes just a moment later.
“Here,” Bianca says, forcing one cup into my hands.
“Thanks.”
I take a sip of my coffee and it’s just as good as it always is, but things between Bianca and I don’t feel the same. I thought the conversation would flow easily between us, as if no time had passed at all. Instead, I feel like Bianca and I live on completely different planets.
“Let’s go shopping,” Bianca says suddenly, and I hesitate, but agree. Maybe some sort of activity is just what we need to break the ice.
Bianca squeals in delight. She jumps out of her seat, neglecting to push in her chair behind her, and slides the handles of her large designer purse over her shoulder.
Bianca threads her arm through mine, just like old times, and we walk this way out of the coffee shop. Her compact luxury car is parked haphazardly against the curb, just a few spaces down. The car emits a chirp when Bianca presses the unlock button on her key fob and we both climb inside.
The seats are pillowy soft Italian leather, but I realize that I’d rather be on the back of a motorcycleanytime. Bianca smiles brightly at me before turning the key in the ignition.
I keep waiting for her to ask mesomething,anything,aboutmylife. After all the hours I’ve spent listening to Bianca drawl on about one guy or another, she doesn’t ask me a single question.
Instead, Bianca’s manicured fingers stab at the button of the stereo. She frowns, looking down from the road ahead in her search for the right station.
“Want me to help you, B?” I ask, but Bianca just shakes her head.
I shrug and push my head back into the leather headrest, looking out the window at the buildings whizzing by. Bianca’s uncharacteristically quiet, but she’s blaring a pop station on the radio. I have to yell over the music when Bianca speeds past our turn.
“Hey, B? Aren’t we going to the mall?”
Bianca doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even glance over in my direction. Her knuckles turn white as she grips the steering wheel and I can hear the car accelerating.
“Bianca!” I scream, but she doesn’t even flinch.
I’m feeling frantic now. It has dawned on me that I've made a terrible mistake. I reach onto the floorboard for my handbag. I’ve got to get to my cell phone, but Bianca suddenly jerks the steering wheel. The tires screech as we make the turn and my purse slips from my fingertips, rolling over to the other side of the car.
I can’t see it anymore, but I grope blindly in my search for it. Bianca swerves the car again, and I whack my head against the dash.
“Ow!” I can't help but cry out and tears spring to my eyes.
“Sorry, Mary,” Bianca mumbles, but she slams on the brakes. Only my seat belt prevents me from flying forward.
A wave of nausea washes over me as I stare out of the windshield with my bleary eyes. I feel the tears spill over onto my cheeks.
There’s a black SUV parked beside us in this otherwise empty parking lot. I watch, my stomach a pit of dread, while the SUV’s doors open. Four clean-cut men, all dressed in suits, swarm out of the open doors and surround Bianca’s car.
I look over at Bianca, but she’s perfectly calm. Even her lips gloss is still perfect.
“How could you do this to me?” My voice sounds strangled and Bianca doesn’t answer, but she squirms in her plush leather seat.
