Page 91 of Chasing Stardust

I really am a magnet for disaster.

“Hey.” He pulls me down beside him until we’re hip to hip on the cool concrete. “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be.”

I rest my head on his shoulder. “I heard you on the phone. This happened because of me. Because you promised—”

“Zoey, no.” Dash wraps me in a tight hug. “None of this is your fault. If you’d said no to my offer, I would’ve found another way to tag along on your adventure.”

“But what if your dad—”

“Does what? Has me evicted from my apartment? Even if that’s possible, I can’t do anything about it until I get back. And . . .” Dash scans the deserted parking garage. “At the moment, I’m more concerned about being swallowed by the bowels of Detroit if we don’t find a safe place to shelter for the night.”

I straighten my spine and tug my tote into my lap. “Hotels cost money, and we don’t have a single working card between us. You heard Cruella. Even if we booked and paid online, we’d still need a card to check in.”

“So we find a place that accepts cash.” Dash digs in his pocket and pulls out a stack of wrinkled bills. “I have twenty-seven dollars. What about you?”

I do a quick calculation in my head. “Maybe twenty. And a few more in loose change.”

“So, fifty?”

“About that. But there’s no way we’ll find a decent hotel for less than a hundred.”

“Sure we will.” Dash forces a smile. “You’ll see.”

“I doubt we could take an Uber across town for fifty, but if you say so.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “I wish Hicksville wasn’t so far away. The Betty should be ready by now.” Thinking of G-Lo’s car sparks a fresh idea, and I fish my phone from my pocket. “I’m gonna call my grandma. She offered to send me money the old-fashioned way. I think it’s time to take her up on that.”

Dash laughs. “Old-fashioned? Like mailing a check to the parking garage?”

“Western Union? MoneyGram?”

His blank stare speaks volumes.

“Come on.” I gape at him. “You’ve seriously never heard of MoneyGram? Where I’m from, there’s one in every Walmart and CVS—surely you’ve seen the big-ass sign in the window. And even small towns have Western Union kiosks at just about every grocery store. A big city like Detroit must have at least one location open late.”

“I’ve never been much of a Walmart or grocery store kind of guy.”

I roll my eyes. “Sounds like it’s time to check your privilege, Dash. Must be nice having rich parents.”

“Hold that thought.” Dash’s eyes light up, and he presses a quick kiss to my lips before jumping to his feet and pulling me to mine. “I need to make a quick phone call.”

26

Fame

“Oh no. Forget it.” A shudder runs through me as I gape down at the fuzzy image on Dash’s phone display.

After making his mysterious call, Dash went to work searching for a cheap motel within walking distance of the parking garage.

“Can’t we just take a bus around the city all night long? Or find a Walmart to wander through? We can grab a nap in a changing room. Either choice would be infinitely more sanitary than that.”

“Come on.” Dash chuffs. “I seem to recall one of us leaping from a rusty train trestle yesterday.”

“So?” I steal another peek and shudder at the image on his screen. My skin crawls at the thought of staying anywhere that charges by the hour.

“I didn’t hear you freaking out about bacteria or tetanus shots then. But now you’re afraid of a little hotel room?” Dash stretches the image to its full, horrifying glory. “See, it’s not that—”

“Look! Right there.” I tap the lumpy blue bedspread in the center of the photo. “I can totally see the bedbugs from here.”

“You can’t—” Dash squints. “We can lay on top.”