Page 10 of Beautiful Distraction

“Call it my gut feeling.”

“Is this the same gut feeling that almost got me expelledfrom school after you suggested we paint the walls red as a means of protestagainst the lousy food?”

Mandy remains quiet, so I ask the most obvious question in avoice that can barely contain my anger, “How did this happen?”

“I took a shortcut.” Her words come so low I’m not sure itwasn’t just the howling wind gathering around the car that spoke to me.

“What?”

“I said I took a shortcut!” she yells at me. Then she addsquietly, “Or so I thought. And then the damn thing failed—” she points atthe satnav “—probably because I forgot to update the software.”

“This is so typical of you.” I open the glove compartment topull out the roadmap, but all I find are cans of soda and several packs ofTwinkies. “Where’s the map?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“I didn’t think we’d need it.” Mandy shrugs and stares aheadat the darkening road.

I laugh from the waves of hysteria collecting at the back ofmy throat.

Why would anyoneevertake a shortcut in the middle of nowhere and consciously decide against packinga map? Then again, this is Mandy. Given that I’ve known her all my life, I haveno one to blame but myself.

“There goes my backup plan,” I mumble.

“It wasn’t really that much of a backup plan anyway, giventhat neither of us has ever found her way around with the help of a map,” Mandysays, not really helping.

“But still. You should have known better.”

“What about you?” Mandy prompts. “You could have thoughtabout packing one instead of obsessing over your non-existent love life.” Theaccusation is palpable in her voice. She’s trying to blame it all on me.

“I’m not even going there because I wasn’t obsessing. Ispent the last few months working my ass off. You know how hard I had to workto get where I am now.”

“Where?” she asks innocently. “We both know that by ‘work’you mean you were secretly obsessing about the fact that you shouldn’t havebrushed off the guy who hit on you at Club 69.”

Oh, for crying out loud.

She’s trying to divert attention from her mistakes byannoying the living shit out of me.

I roll my eyes. “Get us out of here before we end upcompletely lost and living in a self-made wooden hut. I’m not learning how toset traps and collect berries to keep your sorry ass alive.”

“If this helps, I did pick up how to make a fire when I wasa Girl Scout.”

I grin at her. “Yeah, your fire will be of immense help whenwe’re trapped in a storm.”

“Check the cell,” Mandy says, her face brightening at theidea.

“And call who if we don’t even know where we are?”

“The police, obviously. They could track us.”

Intentionally, I don’t praise her as I retrieve my cellphone and then stare at the no signal sign. “Dammit. No bars.”

Which isn’t much of a surprise.

Wearein themiddle of nowhere. There’s no doubt about it because ninety-nine percent ofmainland USA has cell phone coverage, which is about everywhere. Mandy has justmanaged to find the remaining one percent, and she didn’t even have to put alot of effort into it.

“No signal,” I say needlessly and drop my cell phone backinto my handbag, which I then toss it onto the back seat amid Mandy’s toiletrycase, several shoeboxes, and countless fashion magazines, all of which shepicked up during our petrol station stopover. For the money, she could havebought at least two roadmaps. The thought manages to make me even crankier.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER TWO

---