Page 6 of Lick
Lauren pushed me into the backseat of the cab. I scrambled across, then slumped down, doing my best to hide. Wishing I could disappear entirely.
“Go! Hurry!” she shouted at the driver.
The driver took her at her word. He shot out of the place, sending us sliding across the cracked vinyl seating. My forehead bounced off the back of the (luckily padded) passenger seat. Lauren pulled my seat belt over me and jammed it into the clasp. My hands didn’t seem to be working. Everything jumped and jittered.
“Talk to me,” she said.
“Ah…” No words came out. I pushed her sunglasses up on top of my head and stared into space. My ribs hurt, and my heart still pounded so hard.
“Ev?” With a small smile, Lauren patted my knee. “Did you somehow happen to get married while we were away?”
“I… yeah. I, uh, I did. I think.”
“Wow.”
And then it just all blurted out of me. “God, Lauren. I screwed up so badly and I barely even remember any of it. I just woke up and he was there and then he was so pissed at me and I don’t even blame him. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just going to pretend it never happened.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work now.”
“No.”
“Okay. No big deal. So you’re married.” Lauren nodded, her face freakily calm. No anger, no blame. Meanwhile, I felt terrible I hadn’t confided in her. We shared everything.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have. But never mind.” She straightened out her skirt like we were sitting down to tea. “So, who did you marry?”
“D-David. His name is David.”
“David Ferris, by any chance?”
The name sounded familiar. “Maybe?”
“Where we going?” asked the cabdriver, never taking his eyes off the traffic. He wove in and out among the cars with supernatural speed. If I’d been up to feeling anything, I might have felt fear and more nausea. Blind terror, perhaps. But I had nothing.
“Ev?” Lauren turned in her seat, checking out the cars behind us. “We haven’t lost them. Where do you want to go?”
“Home,” I said, the first safe place to come to mind. “My parents’ place, I mean.”
“Good call. They’ve got a fence.” Without pausing for breath, Lauren rattled off the address to the driver. She frowned and pushed the sunglasses back down over my face. “Keep them on.”
I gave a rough laugh as the world outside turned back into a smudge. “You really think it’ll help, now?”
“No,” she said, flicking back her long hair. “But people in these situations always wear sunglasses. Trust me.”
“You watch too much TV.” I closed my eyes. The sunglasses weren’t helping my hangover. Nor was the rest of it. All my own damn fault. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something. I didn’t mean to get married. I don’t even remember what happened exactly. This is such a…”
“Clusterfuck?”
“That word works.”
Lauren sighed and rested her head on my shoulder. “You’re right. You really shouldn’t drink tequila ever again.”
“No,” I agreed.
“Do me a favor?” she asked.
“Mm?”
