Page 68 of 72 Hours of You

“Oh, ‘I have money,’ he says casually. What’re you, dealing fentanyl to Noah on the side or something?”

“I just happen to save my birthday funds. It’s no big deal.”

“And you want to blow that money on a one-night stay here?”

“Money is whatever. You can’t take it with you when you go.”

“Yeah, but you can take it with you when you go to college.”

A flicker of something slides over Peter’s face, but before I can process it his face goes smooth and calm again. “Really, it’s fine.”

He takes out his wallet and puts a credit card on the peeling counter.

“Room thirteen,” Kam says, sliding an actual physical key back across the counter and smiling at me.

“Lucky us,” I mumble.

We walk down the hall, our footsteps muffled on the worn red carpet. Peter slides the key into the lock and we step inside. There’s a bed with what looks like clean (I hope) white sheets, a ratty-ass plaid couch that’s probably marinating in jizz, a tiny desk, and a rolling computer chair. Luxury.

“Well,” I say, “this is a hotel room.”

“It is,” Peter says. “We should probably text our parents. To let them know we’re not coming home.”

“Yeah,” I say. I pull out my phone to text Jules. Charles’s messages are still there. Demanding to be seen. I squeeze my nails into my palms until it hurts and there are little crescent shapes in my palm. And then I go back to my Jules texts.

JULES:How dare you not respond to my beautiful love letter of emojis

JULES:Where are you

JULES:Are you banging????? Lmaoooooooo

JULES:Seriously where are you

JULES:Hello?????

JULES:wtf

JULES:Do I need to involve the police

JULES:Jk you know I hate those lil piggies

JULES:For real where are you though

JULES:SYDNEY WHAT THE FUCK

ME:Ok so i’m in the city with peter. we missed the train but we’re fine dw. be back tmrw

Dots immediately pop up, but I lock my phone before I can see Jules’s response.

Peter finishes his text and turns back around. “All good on your end?”

I nod. “You?”

“Yeah.”

We don’t have any pajamas or anything. So I guess there’s nothing to do but just … get in bed.

“So …” I say.