I wake to the sound of someone pounding on our door. They pound so hard it shakes the barely intact hinges. My heart pounds erratically in my chest at the thought of dying in this lonely hotel room on the side of a no-name highway with dingy rooms that smell like yesterday’s takeout. I stare at the rattling door, my only exit. I wonder what’s waiting on the other side. I think I hear my heartbeat and I think I have tachycardia.
Hank interrupts my nightmare by stalking across the room in his shirtless glory and tight knit boxers that leave nothing to the imagination, including another part of his anatomy that is apparently very much awake. My eyes stumble across his front before flying back to the front door. I’m desperate to look anywhere but on shameless Hank who all but struts over to reach for the doorknob. He yanks the door wide open and lets in the enemy.
Five guys march in like a small army; guns included. Jenni and I stare at each other in fright. If I weren’t so terrified, I’d laugh out loud as I look over to see a curled-up Austin, cluelessly sound asleep on the couch. Somehow, I manage to get up off the bed and walk over to the edge of the couch. I poke Austin in the shoulder to wake him. He grunts a little, but that’s it. I lay my whole hand on his shoulder. I squeeze and shove. His hand reaches up to cover mine. He opens a sleepy eye and gives me a little boy smile with a hint of suggestion. For a split second, I forget we aren’t alone, until he looks past me. An alertness registers on his face. His hand drops from mine.
He maintains his calm and turns over to his back. He glances up at the guys who stand over him as if they’re not flanked by semi-automatic assault rifles strapped to their backs and rows of bullets strapped across their fronts like generic GI joes. Austin’s tell-tale smirk pops out as he winks at the biggest guy in the group. He gives him a forehead salute. “Good morning, soldier.” When this gets no response, Austin’s gaze skips down the row. He stops on the one from last night. “How’s your head, Rope?”
Rope’s eyes narrow, and he white-knuckles the butt of his gun as he turns to face Hank. “How does he know my name?”
“I’m psychedelic.” Austin answers with a straight face.
To my surprise and utter shock, terror-frozen Jenni lets out a laugh. I follow suit.
Hank frowns at Rope’s offending glare. “What difference does it make, Rope? He doesn’t know your last name.” I look down the line, noting the fat lips and black eyes, traces of Hank. “What are you all doing here?” He smirks at them. “Didn’t you get enough of me last night?”
The shortest, thickest, one steps up. He stares at Jenni with an intensity that makes me more than a little uncomfortable. “What’s it look like, Hank? We told you we were taking you in.”
Austin clears his throat. He acts as dramatic as a death row prisoner about to eat his last meal. “I’d like to eat breakfast before we go. I saw a pancake place on the way here.”
The short guy glances at him. “I hold the gun. You are not in charge.”
Austin jumps up suddenly, and they all turn on him with their hands on their guns. He throws his hands up in the air. “Chillax. I gotta take a pee.” He lifts an arm and smells. “I need a shower, too.” He turns back on the short guy. “I’d ‘preciate it if you’d stop checking out my girls.”
I swallow hard. I feel embarrassed.
Jenni blushes at his words. I step closer to Hank and slip one arm through his, as I look up at him. I hate that I’m asking. “I’d like to shower, too. Before we leave.”
Hank looks down at me with disapproval. “You and Jenni can each have ten minutes to shower and be ready to go.” He looks back at the guys. “We will leave for the pancake house in thirty minutes. You going to wait outside?”
Rope shoves Austin’s blanket nest from the couch to the floor, spreads them out, and takes a seat. “Nah. I think I’ll watch some T.V.” The rest of them do the same. They surround the T.V. in rainbow formation. It isn’t long before the voices of Ross and Rachel from Friends fill the room. I glance over at the five men dressed in their tight cotton tees and camo pants as they sit alongside their AK-47’s. They laugh out loud at Phoebe singing her Smelly Cat song. What in the world is going on? It’s as if I’ve stumbled into an alternate universe. I wonder when I’ll find my way back to reality.
Austin steps out in shorts and a tee shirt. He walks by me. He shakes his head like a wet dog and splats me with water droplets.
I give him a playful shove. “Thanks a lot, Austin.” I head toward the bathroom. I’m surprised to feel Jenni on my heels as I open the door and step inside.
She whispers like mad as soon as the door closes. “I’m sorry to follow you in here, but I’m not staying out there by myself. I don’t care what they think we’re doing in here.”
I lean in to answer. “I’m so glad you followed me. I don’t even know where to begin with them.” I glance at my watch. “Dang it. I’ve wasted two minutes.” I strip and get in the shower. I’m dressed by the time I realize the shower was lukewarm at best. I flip my wet head upside down, and braid my hair from the bottom. I end up with a high ponytail, which I braid into another braid. I finish as Jenni hops out of the shower. I close my eyes tight until I hear her magic words. “All clear.”
I open my eyes and smile at her purple overalls and orange shirt underneath, my most favorite Jenni outfit. I call it her Jennifer Garner outfit, complete with two French braids that hug the sides of her perfectly-shaped head. I’m almost done braiding when there’s a loud banging on the door. I answer with annoyance. “Hold your horses. Perfection takes time.” I finish up and band Jenni’s braid before giving her hand a squeeze. “Let’s go, my little Lynx.”
She laughs. “I love you, word nerd.”
My heart clenches with the feeling of betrayal. I hate the idea of them talking about me. Word nerd is Austin’s nickname for me, or at least it was. “Why’d you call me that?” My tone is too sharp, and I fail miserably at covering my emotions.
She gives me a funny look. “I heard Austin say it a while back when we were Snap-Chatting.”
I let out a breath of relief and nod. “Oh, right.” I stare at the closed door, the only barrier between us and the testosterone-filled firing squad who make Hank look like Einstein. I glance over at Jenni again. “You ready for this?”
Jenni’s eyes fly around the room. “Ready or not. There are no windows in this cheap-ass motel bathroom.”
I squeeze her hand and hold my other up in front of me. “Let’s do this WonderWoman!” She grins at my reference to our cheesy junior high comic book years.
She lines her hand up with mine, her eyes lit up. “You got it, BatGirl.”
We push against each other’s hands and raise them toward the ceiling. “Who needs Batman!” Our hands break apart and we march out together boldly; our dirty clothes slung over my back in a garbage bag that I stuff down into a duffle bag corner. I turn and wink at Austin. “Let’s blow this popsicle joint.”
Austin stops on the way out and eyes the group. He crosses his arms on his chest. “How’d you find us?”
The shortest guy seems to have the biggest mouth. Plus, he’s the only one talking. “We saw your car.”
Austin smirks openly, and I wish he’d stop. “What kind of car do I drive?”
The short man’s grin falters. “A fast one.”
Austin’s eyes narrow. “What color?”
I follow the guy’s stare across the room to Hank, who’s mouthing words back to him? Why?
My gaze shoots back to the short guy. “Red.”
I frown at him as I answer like a ditz. “With yellow trim?”
He nods his head enthusiastically. “Yep. Yep that’s it.” He freezes, but it’s too late. “I mean, no. No.”
Austin looks at Hank and back at Shorty before stepping closer to the guy. He blocks his view of Hank. “Which is it?”
Shorty takes his gun and pushes the end of the barrel into Austin’s shoulder, nudging him. “Back up, you’re crowding me.”
Austin doesn’t move. “Where is my car?” Shorty stares back at him. He’s all silent and stubborn. Austin tries again. “Just answer the question.” Shorty’s lips remain pursed.
I grab Austin’s arm and pull him toward the front door to leave while we still can. “Come on, let’s go get pancakes.”