Page 41 of Anywhere with You
“I’m sorry,” I said to Cara now, feeling her soft fingers move comfortingly against the back of my hand.
“I’ve been told that it’s okay to have emotions.”
“Huh. Really?”
“That’s the rumor. I think I have granola bars.”
“I saw those. They’re hard as bricks, and I’m not that desperate yet,” I said. I could hear the faint rasp in my voice from the screaming. “You know what I want?”
“Coffee?”
“And tiramisu.”
“Interesting breakfast choice,” Cara said. “I think I’d prefer French toast at this hour.”
“Powdered sugar?”
“Nope. Syrup. The real stuff, straight from the tree.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a process before—”
“Nope,” Cara said. “Drill it, tap it, pour it on my plate.”
I laughed, even though I wasn’t feeling amused. But the action of laughing did calm me a little, and I managed a deep breath.
Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see faint light in the edges of the door. I took that as a sign that we wouldn’t suffocate, at least.
“Did you know,” Cara said, “that the rivers that created the Grand Canyon have revealed nearly two billion years of the Earth’s geologic history?”
“You really do find joy in teaching me things, don’t you?”
“I really like to share things that I find amazing.”
I nodded, though she couldn’t see me. “Thatisamazing. Are there javelinas at the Grand Canyon?”
“Definitely not.”
“Are you lying to make me feel better?”
“Yes. Also, there are giant hairy scorpions, but we probably won’t see any.”
I closed my eyes again. “I feel pretty confident in my ability to outrun a scorpion.”
“Only if you see it coming,” Cara said. “I mean, yes, good point, no need to worry about scorpions.”
“You are a horrible person to be stuck with in an elevator,” I said.
There was a long, quiet moment. I almost thought I was going to have to apologize, but when Cara spoke, her voice was calm and thoughtful.
“If I’m going to be stuck in an elevator with someone,” Cara said, “I’d rather it be you than almost anyone I know.”
“Really? Why?” I was still a little embarrassed about screaming and hitting the door. I worried it had come off more as a tantrum than an attempt to get help.
“Do you remember, a year or so ago, when…when Bridget was in that car accident?”
Of course, I remembered. I was at Cara and Lorenzo’s apartment, awkwardly waiting for Bridget to show up. She was late, and I was irritated because that meant I was the one who had to pretend to have social skills while our hosts were finishing one of the too-elaborate meals they always made when they invited us.
So when my phone vibrated, I answered, thinking I could show Bridget my irritation without Cara or Lorenzo noticing. I had the words and the tone ready.
