Page 33 of No Interest in Love

But Idon’tlie to Grandma.

“I’m going to call Landon. He can spot me till I get back.”

“If he can’t, you call me. And keep me up to date as much as you can, big shot.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I make sure her breathing is okay before hanging up. She scares the hell out of me when she panics like that. Though that really was my fault. Would’ve been a lot worse, though, if I were ten years younger.

A garbling monster awakens in my gut, and I toss Milo’s phone into the truck. Food first. I’ll call Landon later.

The people wandering around in the gas station look sketchy. I swear the guy behind the counter is a ghost. He’s sallow and transparent-looking. I shift my eyes away and grab a few things to snack on, not knowing what Shay likes or what she doesn’t. And when I check out, I think the pen on the counter moves without anyone touching it.

I’ve walked intoParanormal Activity, whatever number they’re on now.

I unload the stuff in the truck, shoving Milo’s drink into the cup holder, which can barely contain it. Since I’m not sure what Shay likes, I just leave the other two drinks—Pepsi and Diet Pepsi—there so she can pick. Then I grab the massive cheese-filled hot dog I nearly ate right off the heat roller and take a bite that could feed a small country. The thing is gone within five seconds, and I’m really tempted to eat the salad and side of fruit I got Shay. Instead I pop open the bag of sunflower seeds and dig into them, staying outside to keep my legs from cramping.

I stick a few seeds into my mouth and suck on the salt for a second before breaking one between my teeth. Shay comes around the corner right as I spit the shell.

“Whoa,” I say, shoving the seeds into my cheek to talk. Shay’s face is drained of all color. Even her cheeks—which always seem to have a hint of pink in them—are primer white. Her wide almond eyes don’t blink once in the time it takes for her to get to the truck.

“You all right?” I ask as she pulls herself up on the first step.

“Nothing. Fine. Great.”

I break another seed and offer my hand to help her into the truck. She settles her fingers in my palm, and they slide a little with whatever sweat I had or she had. I grip harder, only to realize how small her hands are. How soft. My heart pivots in my chest for a split second, then she pulls her hand away and shrugs into the back. Her eyes stay trained on the headrest in front of her.

“You sure you’re—”

“Fine. Yep.”

I quirk a smile, slide in the back with her, and offer her the bag. “Seed?”

Her eyes glance at it quickly, then her nose wrinkles, and she shuts her mouth as if she’s gonna blow chunks all over our legs.

“Are you gonna puke?”

She shakes her head hard, closing her eyes.

“You sick?”

“I’m fine.”

“Please say something other than that word.” I chuck a seed at her. She picks it up and tosses it back.

“I’m really okay. The bathroom was just…” Her nose wrinkles again, and I let out a laugh.

“Didn’t know you were picky about where you—”

“No!” She points a finger at me. “You can’t judge. You did not just see what I saw.”

“Betcha I’ve peed in worse.”

“It wasn’t that.”

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