Page 108 of Jesse's Girl
My head snaps around the room, checking for evidence that could incriminate us, but I see nothing.
Except we both have wet hair.
Shit. Wet hair at the same time isn’t a dead giveaway. Or is it? Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
No, it’s plausible we took turns in the shower. We would have both wanted to wash off the sunscreen…
Marcus’ voice gets louder. He’s coming in. Quickly, I force my face to appear casual, despite the way my chest feels like the inside of a pinball machine.
Jesse comes in first, his expression carefully neutral, followed closely by Marcus. Jesse holds up a pair of sunglasses in explanation.
“Hey,” I say to my brother.
“Hey,” Marcus replies. “Your roomie here left his sunglasses with our shit, so I thought I’d swing by and drop ’em off.”
“Why didn’t you just give them back some other time?” I ask, trying not to sound defensive.
He shrugs. “We were driving right past. Figured I’d pop by.”
“Thanks, man.” Jesse places the sunglasses on the kitchen counter and clears his throat.
“But, while I’m here,” Marcus says, turning to me, “we were gonna head to Seattle tomorrow. Take Jess to visit Claire and do some other stuff. You working? You can tag along, if you want. Figured you might want to hit up that art store you never shut up about.”
“Uh, yeah. I have the day off, actually.” I rub at my arms and glance Jesse’s way, but he’s not looking at me. I give Marcus what I hope is a relaxed smile.
“Cool. I’ll tell Renee. She’s making plans to go to a bunch of places. Shopping probably, if you wanna join.”
Shopping in the big city? No, thank you. I’d rather find a weird, potentially haunted art gallery to hide in.
“Will there be an official itinerary?” I ask in a deadpan tone. “Will it be laminated?”
Marcus rolls his eyes and turns to leave.
“Color-coded at least?” I call after him.
“Nevermind, you’re uninvited!” he calls back, throwing me the finger over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.
I smirk to myself, knowing he doesn’t mean that. I try not to rag on Renee, but we’re such different people that sometimes I can’t help but point it out.
When the door closes, Jesse runs his hands over his face.
I watch him for a moment. “I think it was fine,” I say, trying to reassure him. “Like, I don’t think he…”
“Yeah,” he says, frowning. He turns toward the sink and flicks on the faucet.
Shit.
I push up from the couch and head to my room—the moment between me and Jesse thoroughly ruined. When I check my phone, the text Jesse mentioned is just a long, cryptic link. I glance up to where he’s still standing in the kitchen, and then back down at my phone. I tap on it. The website for the Puget Sound School of Art loads, and my stomach sinks.
24
JESSE
The Seattle trip has already gone sideways and we haven’t even left yet. Marcus texted this morning that he and Renee have food poisoning and, when I tell Ada the news, she looks concerned.
“Damn. Hope they’re okay,” she says, then deflates a bit. “And I was counting on getting to that art supply store too. Shit.”
“We can still go. Just you and me. If you don’t mind stopping in to see Claire.”