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“We?”
Charlie swallows, knowing she’s about to cross some invisible threshold that might forever change the course of her life. It might even end up getting her killed. But there’s no avoiding it.
She can’t wait for others to stop Josh.
She needs to do it herself.
Even though she has no idea how.
“Yeah,” she says. “As in you and me getting into your car and driving to Ohio like you agreed to do.”
“That’s not happening,” Josh says. “And I already explained why, Charlie.”
“And I’m explaining that you’re not going to get rid of me so easily.” Charlie’s body hums with fear as she talks. She’s doing this.She’s actually going ahead with it. “Here’s the way I see it. The situation hasn’t changed. I need to get home. You can get me there. Now, we can stop wasting time and leave or we can wait until the police get here.”
“What police?”
“The ones that my boyfriend called after I used that code you were so smart to pick up on,” Charlie says, even though she has no clue if Robbie did any such thing. She assumes that if he had, a cop would have shown up by now.
Josh goes quiet, no doubt replaying the conversation at the pay phone in his head. Charlie knows he was listening. It’s why she chose her words so carefully. Now Josh is wondering what, exactly, those words could have meant.
“You’re bluffing,” he says. “Besides, why would I need to be worried about the police?”
“You tell me,Jake.”
For the first time since they met, Josh looks worried. He tries to hide it by taking a swallow of coffee and leaning back in the booth, his arms crossed, but Charlie knows he’s concerned. She can see it in his eyes.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “You’re confused, Charlie. And kind of sad.”
Charlie shrugs. She’s been called worse.
“Then we’ll wait.”
They stay that way, staring each other down, until the song ends. Only then, when the diner is plunged into silence, does Josh decide that maybe Charlie’s tougher than she looks and that maybe—just maybe—she’s not bluffing. He waves to Marge, who’s been watching them from behind the counter.
“Could we get the check, please?”
“Sure thing,” Marge says, seeming surprised, probably because they barely touched their food. Charlie feels bad about that. All that work for nothing. Marge brings the check and places it on the table.To Charlie, she says, “I took your order off the bill. After what I did to your coat, it’s the least I can do.”
“You’ve done so much already,” Charlie says, meaning every word. Without Marge, she might not have realized what she needed to do. As far as she’s concerned, the waitress helped her realize this situation could be more blessing than curse.
“It was nothing,” Marge says, locking eyes with Charlie. “I help when I can.”
On the other side of the table, Josh reads the check and pulls out his wallet. Watching him count out bills, Charlie says, “Be sure to leave a big tip.”
Josh slaps twenty dollars onto the table. Satisfied that the tip is indeed big, Charlie says, “Shall we go?”
Josh doesn’t move. He’s preoccupied—looking past her, over her shoulder, out the front window. Charlie swivels in the booth until she sees what he’s looking at.
A cop car.
Local.
Pulling up to a stop in front of the diner.
Charlie can’t believe her eyes. Turns out shewasn’tbluffing, even though she certainly thought she was. But Robbie understood her message loud and clear and had indeed called the police, a fact that leaves her feeling proud and relieved and grateful.
Josh waves to Marge, who’s now behind the counter, dutifully cleaning the Formica even though no one’s probably sat there for hours.