Page 27

Charlie thinks back to an hour ago, when Josh picked her up. She didn’t look at the Grand Am’s license plate. It never occurred to her to do so. She was too focused on checking the rest of the car for signs she should turn around and leave. If she had and seen Pennsylvania plates, then she’d know for certain Josh is lying about his name.
But she didn’t look. Not then and not when he was inside the 7-Eleven. Until they stop again—which could be hours—the only way to find out where the car is registered is to check his insurance and registration cards.
Which, Charlie realizes, could be anywhere. Her parents kept theirs in the glove compartment. Nana Norma keeps hers in her purse. And Maddy, who drove an ugly orange Volkswagen Beetle she’d dubbed Pumpkin, stashed hers behind the driver’s-side visor.
Charlie eyes the closed door of the glove compartment, mere inches from her knees. She can’t open it. Not right now. Not without making Josh wonder why she felt compelled to start rifling through it. The same goes for his wallet, which now sits stubbornly on the dashboard, not moving a millimeter.
Right now, she has no other option but to sit quietly as Josh taps the steering wheel in time to the music. Watching him makes Charlie think back to the driving lessons with her father and how he’d toss out questions as she tried to parallel park or enact a three-point turn.What’s the speed limit in a school zone when students are arriving? When driving in fog, should your headlights be at high beam or low beam? Always come to a complete stop at a yield sign: true or false?
Charlie knew the answers. She’d all but memorized her driver’s ed manual. But with most of her brain concentrating on driving, the correct responses eluded her. She messed up. Or got flustered. Or tossed out an answer she knew was wrong just because she felt compelled to say something.
She knows Josh is lying to her. At least, she assumes he is. All she needs is proof. And while she might not be able to root around in his wallet and glove compartment, shecanask questions while he’s distracted and hope the truth emerges.
That sounds like something else Movie Charlie would do. Toss out a few innocent-sounding questions. Ones that won’t make Josh suspect her motives. They might lead to nothing. But they can’t hurt. It’s certainly better than just sitting here.
“I just realized something,” she says, talking over the music. “I don’t know your last name.”
“Really? I never told you?”
“Nope.”
Josh takes a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving the road. Charlie wonders if not glancing her way is a sign of disinterest or a sign he knows what she’s thinking and doesn’t want to add fuel to her suspicion.
“I don’t think you ever told me yours,” he says.
“It’s Jordan,” Charlie says.
“Mine’s Baxter.”
Josh Baxter.
Charlie takes in the name, stoic, even as a small bubble of disappointment pops in her chest. She truly hoped he’d say Collins, which would then make her think that Josh was some sort of nickname. Maybe a middle name he preferred over his first one, like the girl in her dorm whose unfortunate first name was Bunny but demanded everyone use her middle name, Megan. It wouldn’t have explained everything, but at least it would have calmed her some.Now she’s the opposite of calm, simmering with dread that she’s really on to something.
“Did you always live in Akron?”
“I grew up in Toledo, remember?”
Damn. She’d hoped he would be easy to trip up. If Joshcanbe tripped up. Charlie remains aware that he might not be lying. That there might be a silly, simple explanation for why the license in his wallet says the complete opposite of what he’s telling her now.
“That’s right,” she says. “Toledo. Your uncle lives in Akron.”
“My aunt,” Josh says. “My uncle died five years ago.”
“Since you grew up in Ohio, what brought you to Olyphant?”
“I just ended up there. You know how it is. You get a job. Stay a while. Move on to something else. A couple years go by and you do it again.”
Charlie notes the vagueness of his answer, assumes it was that way on purpose, moves on.
“Did you like it there, though? Being a groundskeeper?”
“Janitor,” Josh says.
Charlie nods, disappointed that she again failed to trip him up. She needs to do better.
“Are you sad to be leaving?”
“I guess so,” Josh says. “I haven’t really thought about it. When your dad needs you, you go, right?”