Page 55 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“Speak for yourself.”
I play my word:triaged.
We keep going back and forth, until I realize it’s been over thirty minutes.
“Why haven’t they come for us yet?” I ask and immediately regret it. Pax was calm and playing the game with me. The minute I remind him we’re stuck, he stands and begins banging on the doors again.
I look up at him. which is when I notice the roof hatch.
“Oh, Pax, we’re dumb.”
“We are?”
I point up to the hatch. He closes his eyes for a minute, I know he’s chastising himself for not seeing it or thinking of it first. He reaches up, but is short by at least half a foot
“Let me boost you up,” he says.
“I’d rather wait, thank you.”
“Come on, Tabs. Let me just boost you up to get the panel open and then I’ll jump up and grab the edges and haul myself out.”
“How do you even know there’s a way out?”
“You’re the one who pointed out the hatch. Why’d you do that if you didn’t think it was a way out?”
“Because it’s always a way out in the movies.”
“Well . . .”
He has a point.
I let him pull me to my feet. “Okay,” I start. “How are we doing this?”
He goes down to one knee. “Stand on my thigh to boost yourself up to my shoulder. You sit on my shoulder and I’ll stand, then you’ll be able to reach the hatch.”
I do as he says, and perch myself on his shoulder, hoping I’m not too heavy for this.
He stands with ease, holding my calves to his chest to keep me balanced. I’m not wearing stockings, and the feel of his arm hair against my bare skin tickles, making me squirm.
“Hold still or I’ll drop you,” he growls straightening to his full height. I have to duck to avoid hitting the ceiling. I push at the hatch using one hand, but it doesn’t budge.
I try again using both hands. Nothing.
“I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“Okay, I’m going to crouch a little. Straighten your arms against the top, then when I start to push up, lock your elbows. That way the strength is coming from my legs and not your arms.”
He’s pretty good with this stuff.
We try it his way. It still won’t budge.
He makes me try it three more times, but there is no way that hatch is moving.
“Do you think it’s locked?” I ask.
“I guess it could be,” he says, sighing. He takes a step toward the wall just as the car jolts and begins to ascend. Pax loses his footing. I grasp at the ceiling for balance. It’s no use. Before I realize what’s happened, we are tumbling down.
“Aaahh!” The sound is too high-pitched to have been Pax, so it must be me screaming. To his credit, Pax somehow catches me as we go down. I land firmly in his lap, one of my arms around his neck, one of his arms around my waist. It reminds me of how the hero catches the heroine in the old-time movies when she escapes out the window.
