Page 66

I glanced over at Brooke. She was already looking at me, not the road.

‘Don’t say it.’

I opened my mouth.

‘Don’t fucking say it, Jessie,’ she said, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh.

I widened my eyes and put my hands on my cheeks. ‘I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto!’

‘I hate you so much.’

‘I don’t think you do,’ I sang.

Brooke held her laughter for as long as possible, but my hysterical giggles eventually set her off.

‘You’re such a fucking dope.’

‘So, what’s the plan?’ I asked once we had finally calmed down.

‘We should find somewhere to stay tonight,’ Brooke said. ‘If you can get online on your phone, could you scope out somewhere that isn’t too …’

‘Gross?’ I suggested, making her laugh again.

‘Yeah. That would be good.’

‘Do you want to go into the city again?’

Brooke hesitated, and I watched her carefully as she stretched in her seat, elegantly twisting her back from side to side. She’d left her hair loose today, so the dark waves curled over the edge of her T-shirt, and I liked watching her push it back behind her ear.

‘You can say yes,’ I said.

‘I kinda do.’ She sounded almost guilty.

‘I don’t mind. We’re more likely to find a not-gross motel in the city.’

‘That’s true. It would be good to get out for a couple hours and walk around, you know? Get some exercise.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I get it. Let me see what I can find.’

The 3G connection out here was terrible, so it took me forever to find the not-gross motel that had a decent parking lot out back and was walking distance to somewhere we could go eat. This was the longest drive we’d done in one day, and I kept switching out cassettes, purposefully picking the ones that Brooke liked to sing along to. After a few days on the road, I’d started singing along with her, and now we had moved on to figuring out harmonies between us. Singing was cathartic.

When we finally arrived in Kansas City, I was hot and tired from the long drive.

‘We need to do laundry,’ Brooke groaned, hauling her bag onto one of the beds. This room had two queens, made up with crisp white sheets. A part of me wished there was a reason to share just one.

‘I’m sure this place has a laundry room somewhere.’

‘I’ll go find it,’ she offered, leaving with a handful of dollar bills to exchange for quarters, and one of the phones tucked into her back pocket.

I used the time while Brooke was gone to do a quick inventory rundown. We probably needed to replenish the snacks we kept in the trunk, but I was starting to get sickof gas station food. And I never thought I’d say that. I’d lived off junk for years, while my mom was too busy with work to feed me home-cooked meals, and it had never occurred to me to resent her for that.

Right now, though, I was ready for a piece of broccoli and a potato that hadn’t been fried.

The motel room had a large window looking out over the walkway and parking lot, and I threw the curtains open to let in more of the natural light. We’d checked in earlier than usual, which gave us a few more hours to get stuff done than those days when we crawled into a room just before midnight and collapsed into bed.

The parking lot was fairly empty, with a few trucks dotted around and a couple of larger vans. Brooke’s Mustang stood out, but it stood out everywhere. There wasn’t much we could do about that. She drove a beautifully restored vintage car – people noticed it.

I set my trashy romance novel on the nightstand and plugged my phone in to charge, then flopped onto the bed to check out what cable channels this motel had.