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Josh laughs. A low, incredulous chuckle.
“Is that what you really think? That I’ve been lying about my name?”
“And other things,” Charlie says, finally releasing the suspicion she’d been holding back since Josh first steered them onto the highway. “You didn’t work at Olyphant. Because if you did, you’d know that there really is a Madison Hall there.”
Josh grows quiet, which Charlie takes as a sign he knows he’s been busted about at least one untruth.
“You’re right,” he finally says. “I never worked at the university. I never went there, either. I made all of that up. For the past fouryears I’ve been working at the Radio Shack just off campus. We passed it as we were leaving.”
Charlie nods, taking it in. Truth at last. A small, tiny, inconsequential bit of it.
“Obvious question,” she says. “Why did you lie about that?”
“Would you have agreed to get in a car with me if I told you the truth?”
“No,” Charlie says, not needing to even think about it. Of course she wouldn’t have. No student in their right mind would ride with some random stranger not associated with the university. “Another obvious question: Why did you need to lure someone into your car?”
“I didn’t lure you,” Josh says.
Charlie shoots him a look. “Well, I sure as fuck feel lured.”
“I didn’t want to be alone. Is that a good enough answer for you? My dad had a stroke, and I felt helpless and sad and didn’t want to drive to Ohio with nothing but all those bad thoughts to keep me company. So I put on this stupid sweatshirt, went to the ride board, and looked for someone to ride with me.”
Josh’s voice has grown quiet, almost sad. When he looks at Charlie, his expression matches his tone. Enough that guilt starts to gain a tiny foothold in Charlie’s heart. As someone going through her own share of pain, she even understands why he did it. Grief and sadness are horrible places to dwell in alone.
Was it deceitful?
Yes.
Was it creepy?
Hell yes.
But it doesn’t mean Josh is dangerous. It doesn’t mean he wants to do Charlie harm.
“You could have just told me that from the start,” she says.
“You wouldn’t have believed me,” Josh says. “It seems to me like you don’t believe a word I’ve said.”
“You haven’t given me any reason to,” Charlie says. “I know your real name, remember.”
“Igaveyou my real name.”
Using only one hand to steer, Josh pulls the wallet from his back pocket. He hands it to Charlie, who looks at it like it’s something venomous. A snake ready to strike.
“Go on,” he urges. “See for yourself.”
Charlie takes the wallet, holding it by a corner between her thumb and forefinger, as if she still expects it to bite. She places it in her lap, hesitant. She already knows what she’s going to see. A Pennsylvania driver’s license with Josh’s picture and the name Jake Collins.
But when she opens the wallet, she finds no such thing. Inside, snug behind its clear plastic sleeve, is a license different from the one she saw. The picture’s the same—Josh’s perfect genetics still shining through. But the license itself is a New Jersey one. And printed across the bottom, in letters clear as day, is the name Josh Baxter.
“Now are you convinced?” he says.
“I don’t understand.”
“I do,” Josh says.
Charlie knows what he’s implying—that it was another movie in her mind.