Page 14 of Darlin'

Unable to will myself out of bed and wash the filth of yesterday's happenings off my body, I purse my lips, scanning Jesse's guest room. Sunlight peers through the blinds, golden rays illuminating the bouquets of artificial pink, coral, and white flowers springing out of asymmetrical vases on the vanity table. Hmm. Itcouldbe my room. My gaze trailsacross the gorgeous macrame hangings on the wall, and I frown. This isn't very Jesse Paxton, that's for sure.

My phone vibrates again.

"Okay, okay, okay," I groan, snatching the phone off the bed and scrolling through dozens of text messages from Momma. My gaze briefly flits up to the battery percentage and then to the black charger plugged into the wall. When did I…? That isn't mine... Did he...? While I was sleeping?! Creep!Ping. Ping. Ping."Oh, good God, woman!"

Momma

Savannah, answer the phone immediately.

Where are you?

What hotel are you staying at?

Savannah, I swear on papa's grave I will call the police if you do not respond to me.

This is unacceptable. I am your mother! You cannot ignore me.

I'm serious, child. Answer, or else your face will be plastered on every single milk carton from here to Timbuktu

Savannah...WHERE ARE YOU?!

You have ONE HOUR to reply.

SAVANNAH!

I swallow, biting my lip as I type out a response riddled with lies upon lies.

Savannah

Hi, sorry! I fell asleep and my phone died. I'm staying at Beau's place near San Diego. I've decided to stay a little longer so we can catch up. No more than a week or two tops.

I get a response immediately.

Momma

Call me right now!

I wince, replying back.

Can't, sorry! We're just about to head out to get brunch. Love you momma! Don't stress, I'm totally fine

That'll hold her for a day or so, at least.

I slam my phone upside down and lethargically crawl out of the queen-sized bed. I look through the built-in dressers for a towel until I find a stack buried behind some linens. The fragrant scent of citrus fills my lungs as I press the towel against my chest, suddenly anxious about what's behind the bedroom door.

Is he here? Did he already leave? It's—I check the alarm clock on the bedside table. It's nine in the morning. Maybe he's at work? Wait...does he evengoto work? I don’t imagine criminals have regular Monday to Friday hours. What if he's still here? He probably is, isn't he?You know what? It's fine. I'll just be very,veryquiet. Like a little mouse. A mouse in a stranger's house. That's me.

Gently twisting the door handle, I hold my breath as I peek my head out, looking down the hallway in both directions. It's silent. Almost too silent. He's either gone, or he's sleeping. Hopefully it’s the former. I perk myself up on my tiptoes and scamper to the bathroom in a haste.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

"Yes!" I exclaim softly, stepping through the safety of the bathroom threshold. I carefully lock the door and hang the towel on the rack before swinging open the shower curtain and turning on the faucet. I make sure the water is scalding hot before I undress and jump inside.

As a stream of reviving water trickles down my hair and body, I mindlessly use whatever products I can find, all of 'em with hints of woodsy cedar and California ocean freshness.Hmm. Not bad. At least he's using products other than generic green soap. Although, based on our brief interactions, Jesse seems to be anything but a basic bitch. This little observation might end up workingforme oragainstme. Time will tell. But time's not on my side.

I need a plan. I need a plan ASAP. Jesse better not have a limited hot water tank because I intend to stay in this steam dungeon until I can figure out my next steps.

Alright. The facts. Jesse said I can stay here one night. Clearly, that's not going to work, given that Beau's not due back for another six days. Maybe I can make myself useful in some way or another. But how? I could clean! Tidy up a bit? But...it's already rather spotless around this house as far as I've seen. I could cook! I snort.Who am I kidding? I can't cook. Does opening a yogurt count as cooking?Hi Jesse, let me just peel that banana for you.Yeah. That's not gonna fly.

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