Page 100 of Locke 2

“He’s probably right,” he returned, though it sounded robotic.

I looked at him. “But what if I’m not wrong?”

Jem stared curiously at me. “Then I want in on you being right so I can take some credit for it, too.”

“I’m not giving you any credit.”

“I want half the credit.”

“That would depend on how much you want to help me out right now.”

“Help you out with what?”

I plugged in Hollybrook on the map on my phone, waiting for something to pop up. My heart was beating a million miles an hour. Within moments, a Hollybrook Rd. popped up, showing me a path leading up to the mountainside of Georgewel.

I turned the screen in his direction, showing him the route. “I need a ride.”

Jem’s face fell as he took it in. “Kali.”

“Please, Jem.”

He rubbed his jaw. “This can’t wait?”

“How long do you think Locke will be?”

“A while.”

“If I’m wrong, we can pretend we didn’t do this.”

“I’m not going to hide this from Locke—”

“So then leave him a message and tell him where we’re going. By the time he’s done beating up Santa Claus, we’ll be back.”

He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, thinking. Then he took the phone out from me and stared down at the map. “Show me the pictures.”

“First tell me you’ll take me.”

“First show me the pictures and then I’ll decide.”

Huffing, I took the phone out of his hand and brought up the pictures. I raised both phones in his direction and stared hard at his face, trying to read his expression as his eyes bounced from one photo to the next.

“Well?” I pressed.

He put the car into drive. “It’s a stretch.”

“Not possible?”

He shook his head and put us on the road. “Anythingis possible.”

???

The drive was close to an hour. I could tell Jem was uncomfortable about this. He’d left back-to-back voice messages to Locke’s phone. He’d called him so many times, but Locke was busy. He drained the battery on his dumb phone, and currently it was charging on the aux jack in the car.

“You should really upgrade,” I said. “Smartphones are the future, Jem.”

“So, I can be tracked, listened to, and watched without my knowledge?” he bit back. “I’m not a data collection statistic.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Except I think the real reason is you’re hiding something.”

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