Читать книгу Don't Let Me Go - J.H. Trumble - Страница 12

Chapter 7

My ringtone startled me awake. Groggy and confused, I fished my phone out of my pocket and pressed the answer key, my eyes still closed, sleep tugging me back toward sweet oblivion.

“Hello,” I croaked.

“Nate?” A laugh. “Did I wake you?”

Immediately I was up. “You’re there!” I sent up a quick prayer of gratitude.

“I just stepped off the plane. I’m headed down the escalator right now to baggage claim. Were you asleep?”

I looked around me, then ran my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, I fell asleep on Juliet’s bed.”

“Juliet’s bed, huh.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m not gone four hours and you’re already in bed ... with a girl?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about expanding my options while you’re gone, maybe procreating a little.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You know I don’t roll that way. Mr. Ratliff sent me home early. I just hung around here to wallow in my misery.”

He got quiet on the other end.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, then changed the subject. “Is Justin there to pick you up?”

He hesitated, obviously deciding whether or not to pursue that okay bit. In the end, he let it go. “He said he’d meet me at passenger pickup after I get my bags. I’ll call and let him know I’m in in just a minute. I wanted to call you first.”

After some small talk about the flight (long, uneventful, boring, lonely) and the airport (crowded and lonely), he promised to Skype when he got to the apartment. I wanted to keep him on the line, maybe until forever, but he’d forgotten to charge his phone the night before (“Busy, remember?”) and the battery was running low. Reluctantly, I let him go. I closed my eyes and tried to hold on to the sound of his voice in my head, letting it soothe me back to sleep like a lullaby.

I woke almost three hours later and panicked for a moment, thinking I might have missed Adam’s Skype. But he’d said they were going to the theater first, then probably dinner. It would be early evening before he could get to his computer.

I found Juliet in the kitchen with her mom, drying lettuce in a salad spinner. Mr. Ratliff was home too. He was draining a metal basket of fried shrimp over a pot still popping with hot oil. It was only about four thirty, so I figured he must have left Gary to lock up.

Mrs. Ratliff gave me a one-arm hug when I came in. “Juliet told me you were having a nap in her room. Better?”

Not really, but I nodded anyway.

I watched Juliet empty the water from the spinner, then put the basket of lettuce back in the bowl for another spin. “Here, I’ll do it,” I said, taking the bowl from her. I pumped the button on the lid, and when the lettuce was spinning, I looked at her. “Are we okay?” I mouthed. She grinned sheepishly and mouthed back, “We’re okay.”

“Here, try this, Nate,” Mr. Ratliff said, and popped a sizzling fried shrimp in my mouth. I had to suck in some air and blow it out a few times before it cooled enough to chew. Juliet giggled and I smiled back. “Yum.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Mrs. Ratliff said. “You’re staying for dinner. We’re eating early tonight. Mr. Ratliff and I are going to see a movie.”

I tried to beg off with some lame excuse about my mom and grandmother expecting me, but she insisted I give them a call. I glanced up at the clock and then helplessly at Juliet.

“I heard your cell earlier. Was that Adam?”

“Yeah. He got in right on time. He’s gonna Skype when he gets to the apartment this evening.” I tried to send her a meaningful look, a look that conveyed how desperate I was to get home. But she blew me off, and since dinner was almost ready, there was no arguing.

“Nate’s starting a blog,” Juliet said brightly as she filled four glasses with ice from the dispenser in the refrigerator door.

“Do you need some help?” Mr. Ratliff asked. He handed me a pitcher of tea. I took a glass from Juliet and poured.

“I don’t know. I haven’t even looked at it yet. I was thinking about asking a friend of Juliet’s to get me started.”

That wasn’t exactly true; I hadn’t been thinking about it at all, but it was a thought, and one that caused Juliet’s mouth to widen in a very big grin.

As we sat down to dinner, Juliet’s parents exchanged a look, and then Mr. Ratliff discreetly pulled the blinds closed, thus shutting out the back patio. I pretended not to notice.