Page 82 of No Place Like You

We take the elevator and stop on the seventh floor, and I silently follow Nat’s lead. Once in our room, I kick off my shoes and slump into one of the two queen-sized beds. “Ugh. I think I could sleep for about nineteen hours and still be tired,” I groan, worn from my flight.

“You deserve this vacation more than I do.”

I lift up my head, resting back on my elbows.

“So, anything new with you?” she asks, acting a little too casual. She’s hanging something in the closet where the safe that looks like a microwave is not so discreetly stored, and she’s more talking to the inside of the closet than me. Her eyes are focused on whatever she’s fidgeting with, and I realize she’s casually fishing for information. For a new job lead or interview that was more promising than the past eight or so I’ve been on. I stay silent, and she finally reemerges from the closet, sinking into the other bed with her entire weight.

“Uh, not really,” I finally answer her. “Just same ol’.”

“Nothing on the job search front?”

I shake my head.

“Well, just enjoy this vacation,” she says, propping her elbow on the bed and resting her chin on the heel of her hand. “Forget about job hunting and all that crap. I think even Mom will give you a break while we’re on the island.”

“But…” I say, the lingering guilt in me forcing a bit of the truth to surface.

“But what?”

I want to tell her about the job offer. About Ryan’s phone call a mere twenty minutes ago and the entirety of the internship she and my momwere relieved I didn’t apply to. Not to shove it in their faces with a bold “I told you so,” but so they can both stop worrying.

“I have a…thing lined up. For when I get back,” I finally say, my hands tracing lazy circles on the bed. I can tell her that, right? It’s not giving too much away, and maybe it’ll fend off the hound-dog-like resilience my mom and Nat have in my job search endeavor.

“You do?” she asks excitedly. She sits up and faces me, her butt perched at the edge of the bed. “Like, a good thing?”

I nod. “I don’t really want to say too much,” I explain. “Don’t want to jinx it or anything, but I’ll keep you updated when I hear back.”

She jumps up and hops, clapping her hands together. “Oh yay!” she exclaims. “I’m so happy for you!”

I smile, and Nat embraces me, both of us falling into the cushy comforter. “Jeez, what are you going to do when I tell you I finally got a job?”

She pulls away, taking in my excited smile with a thoughtful nibble on her lower lip. “I’ve been a little annoying lately, haven’t I?”

“How so?”

She sits up. “You know, hounding you about Mom’s emails. Being her little sidekick, trying to pressure you into finding work?”

I sigh. “It’s okay, Nat. I know a lot of that was Mom’s doing.”

“Still,” she responds, shaking her head. “I didn’t want Mom to be worried, but I also worry a little too. But I’ll back off. I’ll fend Mom off and remind her you’re an independent woman. Maybe I’ll even fix your email settings and reroute her emails to your spam folder.”

I laugh when we’re interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Nat jerks up from the bed, abruptly ending our conversation to open the door. Carmen stands there, a little bushed and dazed. Her eyes light up when she sees me before we greet each other in an embrace. Our hug isn’t like the one I had with Nat. It isn’t tight or fierce like when Nat cut off my air supply. It’s calm and reassuring. Like her gently moving hands are silentlyasking me how I am. How I’ve been since I ran into her, if I’ve been good or barely surviving. If those assumptions she made about me and Dexter were correct.

I nod. And Carmen nods back. I almost want to tell her she was right. That she could’ve bet money on my heart, and she’d be rich.

Nat flits around us, chattering on about her wedding dress and a quick run-through of the itinerary, along with strict instructions to not let her have any tequila while she’s here.

“I mean it,” she scolds, her words directed at me. “Not a single drop.”

“Why are you tellingmethat?”

“Because,” she explains at the same time Carmen smirks. “It’s always tequila when I’m around you. It’s like you have a blood pact with Don Julio.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously?”

“Anyway, since the rehearsal isn’t until Saturday, we’re pretty much free to do whatever we want for the next few days.”

Carmen lifts her phone to her face, her eyes scanning the screen. “‘Your soon-to-be brother-in-law just asked me if I knew that the grocery stickers on produce are edible. Please save me.’” She angles her phone away from her so Nat and I can read the text message from David, and we stifle a set of giggles. “I think David might get trapped by Hayden into some pyramid scheme involving the Chiquita banana.”

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