Page 58 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

I turned, scowling. “Don’t do that.”

He smirked, utterly unbothered. “Do what?”

“Appear out of nowhere like some horror movie villain.”

“I walked over.” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s up? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

I hesitated. The bush was still. Silent. Nothing was there. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“…It’s nothing,” I muttered, stepping away. “Let’s go.”

Ethan gave me a look. The kind that said I know you’re lying, but he didn’t push it.

As we walked back to the bus, I threw one last glance over my shoulder.

The bush didn’t move. The light didn’t return.

Still…

Something felt wrong.

The bus rumbled through the night, headlights cutting through the darkness as we left the greasy diner incident behind. The others had settled into their usual chaos—Max was loudly debating Ethan about which fantasy sports league was superior, Joy was making sarcastic remarks about our life choices, and Mr. Dax was mentally calculating how soon he could retire.

I just stared out the window, still thinking about that light.

Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe I was just tired.

A few miles down the road, we pulled into a motel. One of those places that looked exactly like you’d expect—a dull sign, flickering lights, and an overworked receptionist who looked two minutes away from quitting.

Mr. Dax and I handled the payment. We were painfully aware of how much money we had left.

“Don’t destroy anything,” he told us as we grabbed our keys.

Ethan, grinning, clapped him on the shoulder. “No promises, Mr. Dax.”

Mr. Dax looked so done.

I snatched some clean clothes from my suitcase and shoved them in my bag, taking the stairs for our room.

For once, the universe had mercy. The motel room had two beds.

A miracle.

I dumped my bag on the nearest one, exhaling in relief. At least I wouldn’t have to suffer another night of Ethan’s ridiculously large personal space invasion.

But another problem loomed.

I knew Ethan. He was going to sneak out again.

And I’d have no choice but to follow him because, as Principal Catherine had oh-so-wonderfully reminded me, I was responsible for making sure he didn't do anything out of line let alone getting himself killed.

I sat on the bed, mentally preparing myself for yet another long night of babysitting.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Ethan took a shower.

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