“Is it him?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s Freya.”
“Oh. Then just ignore it.”
I shoot him an annoyed glance. “How would you feel if I ignored your calls?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. Freya’s my friend, too,” I argue. “And she’s worried about me. She has been since I agreed to work in Anton’s home. Just like you.”
He gives me a grudging sigh of acceptance, but doesn’t offer anything more.
“Freya?” I say, picking up.
“Everything okay with you?”
It feels like a leading question. Especially given that my earlier text to her was unnecessarily chipper.
“Um… sure.”
“I knew it!” she cries.
“What?”
“Something is up. That text felt off.”
“What was off about it?” I ask. Dammit, I’ve got to get better at lying.
She ignores me. “Am I right? Did something happen?”
Oh, something happened all right… “It’s a long story.”
“Are you still in his house?” she asks.
“No, I left.”
“Are you heading to the apartment then?”
I glance at Chris. He’s changed directions again, which I’m hoping means he’s taking me to the motel like I asked.
“Uh, no. Not exactly.”
I hear movement on the other end of the phone. “Wherever you’re heading, I’ll meet you there.”
“Freya—”
“You’re my friend, Jessa. You made this alien city feel safe, and I won’t ever forget that. Let me be there for you now.”
I actually get choked up hearing her say that. Helping her drunkenly navigate her way to her apartment really meant that much to her? It felt ridiculous to expect anything in return for basic human kindness—quite literally the least I could do—and yet here she is, willing to rush to my side at a moment’s notice.
“I’ll drop a pin where I’m headed.”
“Thank you,” she sighs.
We hang up, and as I set my phone down, I realize I’m shivering. The heater in the car is on, but I’m still shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.
This is gonna be fine, I tell myself. Everything is gonna be fine.