Page 20

Jennette

I stare at the walls without seeing all the kitsch and the license plates.

They seem to have plates from all fifty states and a few from Canada too.

The Prince Edward Island one is pretty with the flags and the picture of Parliament.

I’m mentally rating all the plate designs when Jaz and Seeker return from the bathroom.

I’m not sure what they said to each other, but he studies her throughout the meal and she’s carefully not looking in his direction.

I can’t explain the atmosphere change, but nobody else seems to notice.

Maybe I’m overreacting, inventing a tension that isn’t there. I have no reason to be jealous; we’ve barely even agreed that we’re flirting, let alone anything more definite. But I recall how he admired Jaz’s singing, and I stifle a sigh.

“Anyone got plans for tomorrow?” I ask.

“Totally,” Tad says, producing his phone. He flashes the checklist on his notes app with a sheepish expression. “I also have panels and sessions cross-referenced by probable popularity, so I know how early to get there. First, I want to check out…”

My attention wanders, and I don’t check back in until the waitress returns. We order, chatting until the food arrives.

Since I’m distracted and Seeker can’t stop looking at Jaz, Poppy and Tad dominate the conversation. I do try to hold up my end, but I’m too conscious of the new weirdness to focus. I expect to figure out the source of the friction, but I can’t. And that bothers me.

Jaz never eats much. She rearranges her food with artistic flair, but in high school, I had a classmate with an eating disorder. That’s what she did to hide her anorexia.

Did Seeker notice? Maybe he called her out on it.

Then again, I’ve clocked him refusing food as well.

In his case, judging from where he’s staying, I think he might be on a tight budget.

He can’t afford all these meals out, so he orders water and attends to be social.

He’s probably got cans of soup or cereal bars in his luggage, so he’ll have that later.

Finally, Ravik says, “It’s late now. I don’t want to go back to the party.”

“Me either,” Jaz agrees. “I need some downtime.”

Tad sighs. “Might be a missed opportunity, but it’s only running another forty-five minutes anyway. And we have the rest of the week to cut loose.”

“We need to pace ourselves,” Poppy puts in.

I nod. “That’s true.”

I’ve attended a few cons before, though not Space Con, and if you dump all your energy into the first few days, you’ll have nothing left for the rest of the week.

Then you’ll end up like I did, overwhelmed and hiding in your room because you can’t face another round of small talk.

Panels take the pressure off, at least, because you’re passively absorbing information, so there’s no need to talk if you choose not to.

Soon, we split the bill and Seeker accompanies me to my car.

I take comfort in knowing that whatever happened privately with Jaz, he’s still leaving with me.

Damn. I really want to ask, but I’m afraid he’ll lie.

Things have been okay, apart from my colossal embarrassment when he asked the others if they’re into con flings.

Honestly, I’m a little mad about that. When you add in the bizarre dynamic with Jaz, maybe I let my imagination run away with me.

Still can’t figure out what he was trying to achieve. I don’t think he’s a player, but some of his behavior is definitely raising red flags. Yet I don’t want to spend the drive in awkward silence, so I’ll keep trying.

“Did you have fun?” I ask, unlocking the car doors.

“I did. It was a long day but an enjoyable one.”

Such an impersonal response. It’s clear that he’s thinking of something else, and I can’t shake the certainty that he’s hiding something.

Yeah, I’ve been talking to everyone online for almost a year, more than six months in the group chat, but how well do I know any of them?

I start the car, for the first time conscious that I might be alone with someone I can’t trust. Dammit, I don’t want to regret any of this or to be forced to admit that Mom and Glynnis had a freaking point.

“I’m glad,” I say softly.

“Why are you afraid? You haven’t been before.” The question comes out of nowhere, showing unnerving insight into my emotional state.

Now I have his full attention, and I’m not sure I want it. While I’m ostensibly in control of the vehicle, I’m aware that I’m driving him out of town. Once I stop the car, anything could happen out there. I doubt the homeowners would notice if he overpowered me and dragged me inside.

I could deny it and act like I haven’t noticed anything wrong. But I don’t see the point in lying. While I have my doubts about him—and maybe Jaz too—I don’t want to believe he’s a threat. He won’t hurt me, right?

The truth it is. Please don’t let me regret this.

“You’re keeping something from me,” I say. “And it’s big.”

“Why do you assume that?”

I might as well go all in. “Something happened between you and Jaz at the restaurant. The two of you were different when you came back to the table.”

“Even if that’s true, it’s not a reason to fear me. I’m unaware of any social contract that requires me to disclose all my personal interactions.”

“Wow. Okay. You can say whatever you want to Jaz, but it’s uncool to pursue both of us, unless everyone is on the same page. I thought we…” I let my voice trail off, aware that I’ve made some huge assumptions.

That he’s completely into me and that he doesn’t feel the same way about anyone else. But he’s correct. Even when we had that moment and he said he likes me, then we discussed having a fling, he didn’t promise it would just be me. Us.

Well, shit. I feel like such a dork.

“We’re communicating at cross-purposes. I did learn something startling about Jaz, but it’s not my information to share. And while I do have a secret also, I need time to think.”

“Wait, now I’m confused again.”

What did he learn about Jaz? Maybe she’s ill?

That might explain her lack of appetite.

For all I know, he heard her throwing up and she admitted to having cancer.

There are so many possibilities. Seeker could be playing head games with me, but why would he bother?

When I consider the vibe between them tonight, it doesn’t seem like sexual tension.

Good grief.

I can’t even have a con fling without complicating it.

My last girlfriend left because I overthink things and suck the joy out of life.

Poppy has called Ravik a fun sponge before, and I felt bad for them.

And I guess I’m a bit insecure too. I always wonder what people see in me. That gets old after a while.

“Did you think I had made romantic overtures to Jaz?” Seeker asks.

I mumble in reply. “You both were so weird after going to the bathroom together.”

“That’s because of what she said. It was quite a bombshell.”

Now I feel like a nosy jerk. Why can’t I just take things as they come, be more like Tad? He seems like a happy, easygoing guy.

I could tell Seeker that my last boyfriend cheated on me with one of his students and it’s why I have trust issues.

But I don’t want to admit that. I’d rather keep quiet about the worst of my relationships.

And now I understand why he’s holding back.

He probably wants a fresh start too, not to dump his baggage in my lap and challenge me to keep liking him.

That’s what you do when you’re trying to drive people away instead of letting them learn about you organically.

“I’m sorry I made it weird,” I say. “I’m prone to overanalyzing everything.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just glad we sorted it out. It would have bothered me if you had driven away with such a fearful mien.”

“I’m still unclear how you knew.” I wasn’t fidgeting, was I? I don’t think so.

“This is the turn,” he says instead of addressing my statement. “Thank you for the ride. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Seeker is out of the vehicle with his bag and moving toward the tiny house he’s rented before I can say another word.

From what he said, he doesn’t have anywhere to stay from tomorrow night on.

Depending on how things go, I might offer to let him crash in my room, but Tad already invited him.

After the awkwardness tonight, he’ll probably go with Tad to the RV.

I hope I haven’t screwed things up permanently.

There’s no point in sitting here, however.

I drive back to the Rellows Inn feeling like an abject failure.

Not only did I misread the situation between Jaz and Seeker, but I questioned him about it.

Even if they were flirting or planning to hook up, I’m not his girlfriend.

Ugh. Sometimes it’s not a lot of fun being me. I let myself into my room and flop backward on my bed with a groan. I need a shower, but I can’t make myself get up until my phone pings. It’s a private text, not the group chat.

And it raises even more questions.