“I can’t just freaking learn by watching videos on the internet. You have to have someone teach you how to cook.”
“That’s bull. You can definitely learn by watching videos. Anyway, should I call Luke or not?”
“I have zero references and experience.”
“That’s alright. He’d do it as a favor to me.”
I groan and sink down further in the passenger seat. “This sounds like it’s going to be a disaster.”
“Yeah,” Sam grins. “Probably. But at least you won’t have to marry some guy who probably has a shriveled up old weenus because he’s probably eighty.”
“Stop! My parents wouldn’t do that. Would they?” This whole thing kind of just proves to me that maybe I don’t know them as well as I thought. Or, like, at all because I never thought they’d pull something like this.
Sam digs out her brand-new phone in a very bright, sparkly pink case. She’s just had her nails done, and they basically match. They’re disgustingly long, a bit like talons, and they make a terrible clicking noise on the screen. Then Sam holds up the phone while I hold my breath. Maybe there’s still hope. Maybe Luke won’t answer. Maybe he won’t say yes. And maybe there’s some other way I can get on with my life without having to first undergo the ultimate humiliation.
But no, of course not. What little luck I might have had seems to have run out a long time ago.
Sam does some fast talking to this Luke guy. She mentions something about how his nanny quit on him over two weeks ago, and he’s been struggling. After a lot of convincing—in which I die even more inside, my heart shrinking into a hard kernel of nothingness—and Sam finally pulling the ‘it’s Christmas’ card, Luke agrees.
I know it because Sam hangs up with a big grin on her face. “You’re in.”
“Great.” I try to sound excited.
I am grateful. Truly. But I don’t know what my next move would be. Now, at least I have a safe place to go, and I don’t have to borrow money from Sam. Hopefully, it will take my parents a while to figure out where I am. And hopefully, they give up on their crazy ideas by that time. I can write my resume, search for other jobs, and apply. Fingers crossed I get one, so I can figure out what I’m going to do after that.
“I owe you,” I add because Sam doesn’t look convinced.
“You’re right. You sure as heck do.”
“I’ll treat you to a mani-pedi when I have some cash again. Girl’s day out. I promise.”
Sam snorts. “You don’t have to pay for that crap. My parents have an account. You know that. Treat me by coming out with me. You’re my best friend.”
“Okay, I will. Book a date and let me know when.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
“Oh, and Sam? Can you wait a day to call my mom and tell her I’m safe but that I don’t want to talk to them? I know they’ll try and trace my freaking phone if I call.”
“You should throw it out the window.” Sam grins. “I’ll figure it out.” She holds out her hand. “Give it to me. I thought ahead and brought you one of my dad’s old ones. The number is private.” She produces a phone for me. “That way, they can’t track anything, and I’ll—accidentally on purpose—drop this one into the toilet.”
“Don’t flush it. For the love of all things holy, that’ll totally clog your parents’ sewer.”
Sam rolls her eyes and throws me that devious look she’s so well known for.
“I wasn’t going to flush it. There’s the pond by the house with the huge water feature. I was just going to chuck it in there.”
“You could donate it. That would be nicer.”
“You’re right. But that’s so not dramatic.”
I give her that look. My best friend look—the look I’ve been giving her since we were ten and ended up in the same boarding school. We were in the same school and classes until we turned eighteen. We even got into the same college, and she also studied business. She currently lives at home and doesn’t have a job even though we both graduated last year. I feel like we’re stuck in limbo, waiting for our parents to decide what we should do with our lives.
I also know Sam desperately wanted to pursue fashion design, and I wanted to be an English major. Both of those things were a big no-go with our parents, but maybe, I’m thankful. I don’t know. At least I have this degree to fall back on. I just really hate to admit how that was their argument all along.
Sigh.
“Don’t worry.” Sam sets her hand on my knee. “Everything is going to be fine.” She winks at me. “I’ll lend you some clothes. You can’t go and be a nanny while looking like a hobo with two outfits.”