Chapter Eighteen

There comes a slight chirping from the main room of the hotel. I dash out of the shower as quick as is humanly possible and throw a towel around my body, not even taking a moment to dry my hair.

Nick’s cell phone is ringing.

Why I haven’t thought of that possibility before is beyond me. I’ve been avoiding the damn thing since the first time Nick set eyes on it, and am quite hesitant to touch it now, lest Nick choose THIS exact moment to walk in and catch me with the murder weapon.

I take the phone now and look at the small screen above the buttons.

C. Jackson

“Casey?” I say, nervously. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to one of the homeboys.

“Jesus Christ, Amber?! Where the fuck have you been? Is Nick there? What a stupid question, of course he’s there. Sneaky little devil, I had no clue you were with him, but of course you’re with him. What made you finally answer the phone? I’ve been trying for weeks. Oh, never mind, just let me talk to him.” This all comes out of Casey’s mouth in one breath, and I find myself trying to breathe for him.

I’m at a complete loss for words. I drop down on the bed and feel the full gust of tears finally falling down my face.

“He left, Casey, he isn’t here.”

“What are you talking about, Amber, where is he?”

And pretty soon I’m telling him everything. I tell him about the tattoos and the sex and my friends and my pictures and my apartment. I tell him about Kevin and the spilled milk and the trip and the quickies in the rest stops and the cell phone. I even tell him about my Nick/Kaos theory. I tell him how Nick and I met and I’m surprised to discover that Casey doesn’t already know.

“I thought you met at a grocery store or something domestic like that,” Casey says. “He kept you hidden for so long.”

I’ve told Casey everything of interest so I start to tell him that my hands are peeling from all the soap and scrubby sponges and my brain is numb from all the crap television I’ve watched. I’ve even switched to Spanish soaps so I feel a little better about stretching my mind more to understand the plots.

“Where are you?” Casey asks. “Nick is probably near by. I mean, he wouldn’t actually go anywhere. He’s probably too embarrassed to come back because he knows what a fuck-off he is.”

I nod, though Casey can’t see me, and rub tiredly at my cheeks. “We’re somewhere in Massachusetts,” I tell him, searching the hotel for a more accurate location. I spot a couple sheets of stationary and look at the heading. “We’re in Revere, outside Worcester.” I can’t believe we made it this far.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Casey shouts, excitedly.

“No, why?”

”Nick and I went there one time. I can’t think for the life of me what the occasion was, but there’s a great tattoo parlor there. ‘The House of Pain,’ I think it was.”

“Do you think he would be there?”

“He loved that place, that’s where he got the ‘Kaos’ tattoo. It took them a good couple hours, but he claimed to barely feel it. He always talked about getting another one done there.”

“So should I try to find it?”

“Well, if you’re sure you want to find Nick, that would be a good place to start.”

“And what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“You’ve got to be shitting me, Amber. That guy is fucking in love with you. He’s afraid to face you because he knows you’re right. And if there’s anything Nick hates more than dancing onstage in those tight-ass costumes it’s knowing he’s wrong.”

“Thanks, Casey.”

“And Amber?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep in touch, we’re all worried over here.”