My heart skids to a stop and I can’t answer.
“Li?” she says, her voice cautiously irritated. “This isn’t your fucking voicemail, is it?”
“No,” I finally manage. “I’m here.”
“I can’t do this without you. I got you and Destiny tickets for the final. They’re in the family section, right up front.”
My heart skips. “Oh my God, Lo! Are you serious?”
“You have to get your asses to L.A. by Tuesday afternoon. Please! I can’t sing your song without you here.”
“I’ll be there.” I change direction and head for the front doors, my heart pounding.
“Gotta go, Li,” she says, “but this is going to be so fucking epic!”
She disconnects, but I realize I’m jogging down the hall with my phone still pressed to my ear when Jon calls after me. “Where you going? Algebra is this way!”
“I’m going to L.A.,” I squeal, waving my phone in the air.
As I cross the parking lot and start jogging down the hill toward town, I remember that the damn car is broken. I slow and Google bus fares from Oak Crest to L.A. My heart sinks when the numbers pop up. One twenty round trip. Times two, and that will take everything I make this weekend. Maybe more. Destiny will never go for it.
Destiny’s on shift at Sam Hill, so I head straight there. When I stumble inside, there’s an older woman behind the bar. She’s graying, a swirl of white through her long, dark waves, but her dark eyes are Bran’s. I glance around and find Destiny standing at the end of the corner booth, taking orders. I move toward the bar and slide onto my regular stool to wait for her.
“Let me guess. Lilah?”
I look at the woman behind the bar. “Hi.”
She smiles. “You will never be able to deny your sister. You two are nearly identical.”
I shrug. “Mom has strong genes.”
“I’m Vicky,” she says, extending an arm across the bar. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“Don’t believe anything Destiny says,” I say, smiling and shaking her hand.
Her eyes flash mischief. “It’s my son Bran who can’t stop talking about you.”
The smile falls off my face and my heart holds its breath. “What does he say?”
“Nothing specific, except that I should hear you sing. But the fact that he talks about you at all is impressive. Bran’s not a talker.”
“Hey!” Destiny says from behind me. “What are you doing here? School’s not out yet.”
I turn as she hands her order across to Vicky. “Lo got us tickets to the finals. We have to go to L.A. on Tuesday.”
Her face falls. “Lilah, we have no car.”
“I checked on the way over. We can take the bus.”
The faintest hope lights her eyes. “How much?”
I try not to cringe. “One twenty each. I’ll make that this weekend.”
She cringes for me. “Li…we need that money for the car.”
Panic seizes my heart at the realization that this might not happen. “This is once in a lifetime, Destiny! My best friend is about to win The Voice. I have to be there for her!”
“Who’s doing your car repairs?” Vicky asks.
I turn and find her pushing Destiny’s full drink tray across the bar.
“It’s over at D’Amico Brothers,” Destiny answers.
“What’s he quoting you?”
“Six fifty,” Destiny says. “It needs a timing chain.”
Vicky scratches her head. “I dated Wayne for a while. Let me talk to him and see if that’s the best he can do. If you can come up with the cash for the parts, he might let you make payments on the rest.”
“God, that would be amazing. I’m totally good for it.” Destiny looks at me. “We could probably come up with a hundred a month if we’re careful.”
“Would we have the car by Tuesday?” I ask hopefully.
Destiny’s face crumbles. “They haven’t even ordered the parts yet because I wasn’t sure if we could afford to pay for the work.”
So nothing about Vicky’s solution gets me to L.A. I drop my forehead onto my folded forearms.
“I’ll try to think of something, Lilah,” Destiny says, rubbing my back.
I lift my head. “I’ll give up my phone.”
She shakes her head. “I need mine, Li, and yours is only an additional twenty bucks a month. Giving it up won’t save us much.”
This can’t be happening. “I’ll hitchhike.”
“Oh, hell no,” Vicky says, and when I look up, she’s at the tap, pouring a beer. “Way too many rednecks and methheads out here.”
Destiny and I look at each other with the word methhead. There are plenty of those where we came from too. Our parents being two of them.
Vicky moves down the bar toward her customer and I bolt off the stool, panic fueling my need to move. “There has to be a way! I have to go!”