The seemingly innocuous events of the past twenty minutes took on new significance. The spindly-legged figure in the parking lot… The pair of headlights that stopped just before the final bend in the road…
That must have been her. Eric had stood right there and watched the whole bait and switch go down. The car had idled briefly, just long enough for introductions. Then it swung around in a U-turn and went—went where, exactly?
They could be anywhere.
Did they go back to Tessa’s house? But where was that? She’d never given him the address. And now she was out there somewhere with…with…
Eric felt the bile rise in his throat, and he swallowed hard. He couldn’t lose it. Not now. He needed to think.
He only had one hope—one way to reach her. He double-tapped the Caps Lock and began firing off DMs:
Taylor: STOP!
Taylor: TESSA, THAT WASN’T ME!
Taylor: I’M STILL AT THE CLUB!
Taylor: TESSA, GET OUT OF THE CAR!
She would see the notifications. She had to. She always did. How many times had he messaged her at some random hour of the day or night only to be rewarded with an instantaneous reply?
“Come on, Tessa,” he whispered hoarsely. “Answer me, goddammit!”
? ? ?
Tessa’s fingers itched to check her phone, but she didn’t want to be rude. It was just a nervous tic—not like she would have any messages worth reading. She was already sitting next to the only person whose DMs mattered, right here on her living room couch.
The conversation had once again faltered into silence. Tessa chewed her nails, racking her mind for something else to say. She hadn’t expected her first meeting with Taylor to turn into such a horror show. How could it be this painful? They always had so much to talk about over Twitter. They could go on and on for hours. But here, in real life, it was almost like sitting face-to-face with a completely different person.
Tessa didn’t know why she felt so awkward, exactly. Taylor seemed nice enough. Or Blair, Tessa mentally corrected. That pretty much summed up the entire conversation on the ride back to her house.
“Are you Taylor?” Tessa had asked, despite the rabbit’s foot held out in confirmation.
She hadn’t caught the answer. She’d locked eyes with the stranger who approached the car, and she’d felt the weirdest sensation. Not a panic attack, but even more disturbing in a way. It was almost as if her whole brain shut down for a moment. She didn’t pass out, but her mind went kind of numb—like when your hand falls asleep, and you know it’s still attached to the end of your arm, but you’ve lost all ability to control it. Could that happen to a person’s brain?
She only spaced out for thirty seconds, and then the sight of the rabbit’s foot brought her back. Blair must have handed it to her. They were seated side by side in the backseat of the car at that point. Tessa had clutched the lucky talisman in her lap, struggling to catch up on the missing fragments of conversation.
“Wait. So, Taylor—”
“No, I’m Blair. Blair Duncan. You know who I am, Tessa.” The rabbit’s foot glowed pink, as if for emphasis, in the light of a passing streetlamp.
“Yeah,” Tessa had stammered in reply. “Obviously. Sorry, I’m kind of nervous.”
Blair had merely shrugged. “So is this…OK? Do you still want to talk and stuff?”
“Sure.” Tessa had tried for a friendly smile. She’d worked out that Blair must’ve lied about the name, but big deal. Tessa could live with that. And that picture of man feet attached to a pair of well-muscled calves? Oh well. She wasn’t all that surprised. Maybe Blair wasn’t exactly what Tessa had pictured all those lonely nights falling asleep by her phone, but Tessa had promised herself to keep an open mind. If all she got out of this was a friend, that wouldn’t be the worst thing—still a lot more than she had going in.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the concert?” she’d asked.
“Definitely not. It’s a total circus back there. There’s got to be somewhere quieter we could go.”
Tessa had cast her eyes uncertainly in her therapist’s direction.
“That’s very thoughtful of you to consider Tessa’s feelings, Blair,” Dr. Regan had said from behind the steering wheel. “My advice would be to go where Tessa feels most comfortable. Your own house would make sense, Tessa.”
“Home?”
A part of her had wanted to protest. She’d gone to so much trouble to avoid telling some online stranger where she lived. She’d left her house for the first time in months just so the two of them could meet in a public place. But Tessa held her tongue. If her therapist thought it was safe, then her fears must be irrational. And she’d already left her house. She’d shown herself that she could do it. What else did she have to prove?
Now she and Blair sat alone together in her living room. Dr. Regan had left them a few minutes ago to wait outside in the car, in spite of Tessa’s whispered protestations. “What if I start to panic?”
“Do you have your pills with you?”
Tessa had set them on the coffee table, and Dr. Regan nodded in approval, issuing her final instructions to Blair on her way out the front door. “If she starts to hyperventilate, give her two pills with a glass of water. You can text me for help from Tessa’s phone.”
“But why don’t you just stay?” Tessa had argued.
Her therapist murmured something about giving them space to get acquainted. No doubt Dr. Regan found the awkward silence too unbearable to withstand for more than a few minutes. Tessa couldn’t blame her.
Blair shifted restlessly on the couch, and Tessa fought the urge to cover her nose. With every movement Blair made, Tessa caught another whiff of the overwhelming scent: some kind of flowery fragrance, so intense that it stung the inside of her nostrils.
Tessa snuck a sidelong glance. Blair was leaning to adjust the oversize duffel bag, still slung over one shoulder.
“Do you want to put that somewhere?” Tessa asked.
“No. It’s OK. I’ll just keep it—”
“Here,” Tessa said, helping to ease the bag onto the floor. “Wow, that’s ridiculously heavy. What do you have in there?”
Blair’s eyes darted away for a brief instant. “Just…stuff. Maybe it’s my Eric Thorn CD collection.”
“CDs? But he only has three albums.”
“Right. Well, I brought along my CD player too. You can never be too prepared.”
Tessa’s forehead furrowed as she eyed the bag. Who traveled with a CD player? Who even owned a CD player nowadays? “Don’t you have iTunes?”
“I’m kidding, Tessa. It was supposed to be funny.”
“Oh.”
“Whatever. Can I use your bathroom?”