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“Think it’ll stay?” he whispers between snores.
“If he doesn’t mess with it.” I take a deep breath and blow it out, bracing my hands on the tops of my thighs. “Hey, Carter?”
“Yeah, Doc?”
“You got any more of that tequila?”
“Easy, tiger.” Carter plucks the bottle from my hand as I swallow my third mouthful of what might as well be gasoline.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to hide my grimace as the tequila scorches its way down my throat to my empty stomach.
“God, these frogs are almost as loud as your dad.”
Carter coughs out a laugh, trying not to choke as he lowers the bottle from his own lips. “For real!” He turns and glares into the fountain we’re sitting on and lifts a finger to his lips, shushing the wildlife.
I giggle through my nose.
“Hey, Rain?”
“What?”
Carter sets the bottle on the floor and turns to face me, his features serious in the silvery glow from the skylights. Then, suddenly, he grabs my biceps and whisper-shouts, “BEAR DONE GOT ME, AGNES! GIT MY GUN!”
I burst out laughing, doubling over and clamping my hands over my mouth as I try not to be so damn loud. Of course, that only makes it worse. “Too soon!” I hiccup, waving one hand in surrender. “Too soon!”
“Sorry!” Carter has the best belly laugh. It’s so boyish and sweet, like his face, betraying his manly, six-foot-three-inch packaging.
“For real though”—he claps a hand over my shoulder—“that was fucking badass back there. Thank you.”
My laughter dies down. “Don’t thank me yet. I could have made it worse, for all I know.”
Carter slowly shakes his head from side to side. His hooded eyes have a hard time keeping up. “Unh-uh. You make everything better, Rainbow Brite.”
“Pssh. You’re drunk.”
“I got somethin’ for you today.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’d you go anyway? You never told me.”
“Every few days, Q has me take everybody’s phones and shit out to my parents’ car to charge ’em.”
“I thought your car was busted.”
“It is. Dented all to hell, right in the middle of the pileup, but it’s got gas, and the engine still starts up, so …” Carter reaches into the pocket of his basketball shorts and pulls out a shiny black device. “I charged your phone.”
“Oh my God.” I gasp and reach for it, turning it over in my hands like some kind of artifact from a past civilization. “Where did you find this?”
“It was in your backpack the night I found it.”
My mood sours at the mention of that night, but Carter quickly changes the subject. “Check it out!” He taps his finger on the glass, lighting it up. The wallpaper used to be a picture of us, but after he left, I couldn’t stand looking at him anymore, so I changed it back to the default screen. Now, it’s just stupid blue digital swirls. “Your service even got turned back on.”
I stare at the phone in my hand, racking my brain for the name of somebody I could call, but … everyone I might want to talk to either left town before April 23 or …
The screen goes black.
“Hey … you okay?” Carter gives my shoulder a little squeeze.
I nod, staring at the blank screen, but it’s a lie, and Carter knows it.
