Chasing Stardust: A Novel By Erica Lucke Dean - 12

Where Are We Now?

After what has to be the longest stretch of awkward silence in my entire life, Dash hands me an open packet of wet wipes and a pair of Superman boxer-briefs. “Here. You, uh, might need these.”

Darting my eyes from the crisp new royal-blue underwear to Dash’s red face, I grin. It’s as if someone threw me a life raft in the middle of my ocean of shame. I know I should keep my mouth shut, hope he forgets what he witnessed not minutes ago, but the part of me desperate to wash away the sting of humiliation can’t help herself.

“Don’t say it.” His voice echoes through the parking garage as he pins me with one of his stony stares. “They were a graduation gift from my little sisters. They picked them out themselves, so I wasn’t about to refuse them.”

“I didn’t say anything . . . Clark. ” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I’m obviously not the only one to make the connection.

A dark chuckle rolls out of him like distant thunder. “After what you just . . . you know what? I’m not going there. My mother raised me to be a gentleman, so I’ll let you have this round.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean.” I look down at the puddle at my feet and shrug. My poor Skechers. “I was just thinking how nice you are to help me like this. It’s really . . . super of you. You’re totally my hero .”

“Keep it up, and I’ll—” His lips quiver as he loses the battle to maintain his stony exterior.

“You’ll what?” Somehow, I keep my features neutral. I may be far from innocent, but I’m not above playing dumb.

He balls up the matching Superman T-shirt as if he doesn’t want me to see the big red S emblazoned across the front and chucks it at me, hitting me square in the chest. “Don’t say a word. Go change. And please throw those things out.” He nods toward the black-and-white stripes peeking from my open zipper.

I finger the mangled waistband while he grumbles about his leather seats.

“I get it,” I say. “Not like I can ever wear them again, anyway.” Not when they look like a badger chewed through them.

“I can’t believe you wore them in the first place.”

“I was being safe.” My face heats. “You never told me what color . . . and you could’ve been a rapist.”

He flashes a wide smile. “You think I’m cuter than Ted Bundy.”

A wave of fresh heat envelops my face. “I-I can’t be held responsible for anything I said while I was freaking out.”

“Hmm.” The grin fades into a frown. “Speaking of things you said, is your grandma really running a background check on me?”

A ripple of laughter slips out, bouncing off the concrete walls like ping-pong balls. “Maybe.”

“Perfect.” He rolls his eyes. “Hurry up so we can get out of here.”

“Zoey, wake up.” Dash nudges my shoulder.

I wipe the drool from my cheek and blink in confusion. The last thing I remember is washing my shorts and my sneakers in a public bathroom and then climbing into the front seat, barefoot and wearing Dash’s underwear and T-shirt, looking like a kid in a pair of Superman Underoos. I peer out the window at the Mack’s Garage sign hanging above a pair of closed garage bay doors.

I straighten in my seat and search for signs of life in the empty parking lot. My breath hitches as I turn toward Dash. “What time is it?”

He winces. “A little after six.”

“We missed them?”

“I’m sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “The car took longer to charge than I expected.”

With a halfhearted laugh, I sink into the warm leather seat. “What’s one more day without my clothes, right?”

Dash blows out a breath. “Listen, it’s been a long day. We’re both exhausted. Let’s head over to the Hicksville Inn.”

“Together?” Heat prickles over my skin. “I . . . do you think that’s a good idea?”

He laughs. “I reserved two rooms.”

“Oh! Okay. Good.” The air in my lungs whooshes out.

“I’m so far past exhausted.” He presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and rubs. “I need to sleep for at least twelve hours. But I promise I’ll bring you back over here to get your stuff in the morning.”

“That’s fair.” I drag my bottom lip through my teeth. “But I can’t let you pay for my room.”

“Zoey—”

“I’ve got it. It’s fine.” I wave my device in front of him like a victory flag. How much could a room in Hicksville possibly cost? “I’ll go online, book a room, and pay for it. Venmo to the rescue.”

He lifts his brows. “With the cards you closed? And no ID?”

A low groan creaks out of me. “No.”

“If you’re that worried about it, you can pay me back.” His lips curve into a slight smile, not mocking but definitely amused. “You can even transfer it to me with your fancy phone.”

Relieved, I relax into the seat. “I can do that.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled . . .” A jaw-cracking yawn interrupts him. “Let’s go check in before I fall asleep at the wheel.”

My room smells like a basement—decades of wet towels and cigarette smoke hiding under cheap pine cleanser. The ancient air-conditioning unit rattles away as it pumps stale icy-cold air into the room. I drop my tote on the corner chair and lay my wet things over the vent to dry before stripping off Dash’s clothes and stepping into a hot shower. Once every square inch of me is thoroughly scrubbed, I dry off and slip on Dash’s boxers and T-shirt, wrap a towel around my hair, and crawl across the bed to call G-Lo.

“Well . . . ?” She drags out the word. “How’d the trip go?”

“Really good.” I leave out what happened in the parking garage. “We went to almost all the places you and Mom went.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” I crisscross my legs and pat the temporary swell of my stomach. “I ate too much—probably gained five pounds—but it was worth it.”

“Did you get your picture?”

“I did. The old auditorium isn’t there anymore, but Dash took some pictures of me in front of the new one. And at least twice as many around town.” The weight of the day finally catches up to me, and I uncross my legs and lower my voice. “I felt her there with me.”

“She was,” she agrees. “I’m sure of it.”

Letting her words wash over me, I scoot down and settle into the pillows. “I’ve decided to finish the trip once the car’s fixed.”

“Good.” Her voice softens. “Life moves pretty quickly. You can’t let a little thing like a broken radiator slow you down. And don’t worry about the car. Everything’s taken care of. You’re good to go once they install the new parts.”

“Dash said something today.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I finally get how important it is to finish what I started.” Saying his name sparks a warm tingle that spreads from the center of my chest down my arms to the tips of my fingers.

“You like him.”

The smile in her voice makes me wonder if she’s been eavesdropping on my thoughts. I sit up and yank the wet towel from my hair, tossing it aside with a groan.

“Come on, now,” she prods. “You aren’t fooling me with your brooding silence.”

“What difference does it make if I do?” I shake out my hair, sending microscopic water droplets everywhere. “He’s taking me to get my stuff in the morning, then taking off to wherever. I’m never gonna see him again.”

“You don’t know that. With all the technology out there these days, there’s no reason you can’t stay in touch.”

“He doesn’t have social media. Even you have Facebook. He doesn’t have anything on that stupid phone of his.”

“I still have his number. I’ll text it to you.” She pauses and a moment later, my phone vibrates with an incoming message. “And don’t forget, Cecil’s busy digging up all his dirty little secrets.”

“It doesn’t matter. After tomorrow, I won’t have any reason to talk to him again. Besides, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Right. Fabian.”

“Damian.” His name leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I flop back again, spreading my wet hair across the pillow. “Which reminds me, I need to call him. He’s been blowing up my phone all afternoon.”

“Okay, honey. You call Dominic.”

“Damian.”

“That’s what I said.” She chuckles. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you, Zoey.”

“Love you, too.”

After we hang up, I pull up the pictures Dash took in Memphis. I look sad, sitting on the sidewalk with the silver spaceship behind me and total strangers walking by. I scroll through the images until I reach the selfies of us in front of Sun Studio and the Memphis Rock ’n’ Soul Museum.

In every shot, Dash gazes down at me as if he wants to kiss me senseless. My stomach flutters. Damian has never once looked at me like that.

As if the thought summons him, Damian’s face replaces Dash’s on the screen, instantly sticking a pin in my good mood. Steeling myself against a wave of anxiety, I accept the call.

“Who drove you to Memphis?” he demands.

I recoil from his biting tone, unable to remember any of the reasons for staying together. Determined to defend Dash’s honor, I stiffen my spine. “A nice guy I met at the diner. He was going that way anyway and asked if I wanted to tag along.”

“A guy ?” As expected, Damian lets out a string of colorful curses that would make even Jeanie blush. “You’re taking rides from strangers now?”

“Yes.” My stomach flutters as I think of said— really hot —stranger. “In fact, I’m doing many things you’d probably disagree with. I drank a drink I didn’t pour. Sat on a dirty sidewalk and didn’t wash my hands afterward. Spent the whole damn day hanging out with a guy I barely know.”

A guy who actually seems to give a damn about what I’m going through, unlike the selfish prick on the other end of the line.

“And you know what? I had fun. For the first time since Mom got sick, I’m experiencing life for myself. And I like it.”

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” His lack of enthusiasm tells me otherwise, and I suddenly understand what Jeanie’s been saying all along. “You’ve had your fun, now come home.”

“I’m not coming back!” The words erupt in a rush as the pent-up anger I’ve been keeping in check for months—longer than that if I’m being honest—bubbles to the surface.

How freaking dare he order me around? And why the hell did I let him get away with treating me this way for so long? I sure as hell don’t want to spend the next decade asking myself the same questions.

“We can still—” He chokes off his sentence. “What did you say?”

My breath hitches. “I said I’m not coming home. I’m finishing my trip.”

“After everything that’s happened, you’re still finishing your damn trip? What happens if next time, instead of a possum in the road, the goddamn engine falls out? Or the tires blow?”

“For the last time, it was an armadillo, not a possum. And if the engine falls out, I’ll get another one.” Shrugging off his excuses like a wet blanket, I finally breathe for the first time in months.

“Zoey, you can’t just ‘get another one.’ Engines are—”

“I don’t care, Damian. Nothing you say will scare me into running home.” My chest tightens as I realize I mean every word. “I won’t be back until I’ve spread Mom’s ashes in every one of the stops on that tour. I don’t care how many auditoriums were torn down, or wallets I lose, or accidents I have, I’m finishing what I started.”

“W-What about school?” he stammers. “Your mom’s cancer was the reason you couldn’t start two years ago, but now that she’s gone . . .”

“She just died, you heartless asshole.”

He lowers his voice. “And I’m sure you’re really sad right now, but you’re finally free to start living your own life. No more playing caregiver. Hell, if you’re determined to spread her ashes first, come with me to the beach. There’s a whole ocean at your disposal. She liked Rehoboth, didn’t she?”

Damian’s words rattle around my head like pennies in a can. “What is wrong with you? My mother died , and all you care about is what you think should happen next. You never asked what I want to do with my life! Maybe I don’t want to go to Penn State. Maybe I don’t want to go to college at all!” My voice creeps up another octave, and I draw in a deep breath before I inadvertently summon security to my room.

For two damn years, I’ve gone through the motions, desperate to keep my head above water while the tsunami washed over me. Staying with Damian was the easiest decision in a sea of impossible choices. I was lost and alone, and he was there. And for whatever reason, he wanted to be with me—maybe because I had no one else to cling to. Well, I don’t need to cling to anyone anymore. I’m finally standing on my own two feet.

“I can’t do this with you, Damian.”

“Fine.” He exhales in my ear. “Call me later.”

“Listen very carefully.” I speak slowly and clearly, so he fully comprehends this time. “We’re done. Over.”

“Are you seriously breaking up with me over the phone?”

The shock in his voice is almost comical, and I bite back a laugh.

“I should’ve done it a long time ago.” Relief washes over me, chasing away the bitter taste of disappointment. “Have a great life, Damian.”

“Come on, babe, I’m—”

I hit the end button, and the selfie Dash and I took under the giant guitar at Sun Studio smiles up at me from the screen. I drag the neck of his T-shirt to my nose and breathe in the lingering scent of fresh laundry detergent . . . and Dash. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but I’m ready for it, no matter what.

“Wow, you clean up nice.” Dash’s eyes light up as I slide in line behind him at the breakfast buffet. He focuses on my face, ignoring his Superman T-shirt and boxers hanging loosely from my slight frame.

I wish I could say the same for the rest of the breakfast crowd, openly eyeing me as I nervously tug the bottom of the shirt down my legs until it almost passes for a minidress.

I offer Dash a warm smile. “It’s kind of amazing what a shower and a good night’s sleep will do.”

“You aren’t kidding. I slept like the dead. That’s the last time I stay up for two days straight.” He piles his plate with scrambled eggs and bacon, then adds a biscuit and a scoop of fresh-cut fruit before taking his food to the table by the window. “You coming?”

I quickly fill my plate with a little of everything and join him, sliding my tote under the table by my feet. “I talked to my grandma last night.”

“Yeah?” He unfolds a paper napkin and lays it across his lap. “So did I check out?”

My lips twitch. “I forgot to ask.”

“Did you tell her about . . .” He lifts a brow and grins. “You know?”

I choke on a bite of dry toast, coughing until the whole room stares at me. “No. What she doesn’t know won’t get back to Jeanie. She’d never let me live that down.”

Dash cocks his head to the side. “Jeanie?”

“My sister?”

“Oh, right.” He shoves a piece of bacon between his lips, chewing and swallowing before finishing his thought. “You never said if she was older or younger.”

“Older by two years.”

“Ah.” He nods like someone who’s been tortured by an older sibling. “You’ll definitely wanna take that story to the grave.”

“Definitely.” I slap a cold pat of butter on my toast and nearly tear the bread to shreds spreading it.

“So . . .” He takes a sip of coffee and waits for me to fill in the blanks.

“Oh!” I lick butter from my finger. “I told her I’m finishing the trip. I’ll hang out here for a few days while they fix the car and then head for New York. So, I guess . . .” My mouth goes dry. The thought of saying goodbye sits like a brick in my belly. I know whatever we are has run its course, but I can’t help feeling the loss.

Oblivious to the emotions brewing inside me, Dash chuckles. “A lot of shady characters in New York. You sure you’re up for something like that without a bodyguard?”

“You mean a babysitter?” I roll my eyes and stuff a chunk of pineapple between my lips.

His smile curves up on one side, and he pins me with his stony gaze. “If the metaphor fits.”

“I think I’ll be fine. What about you?” The brick in my gut tumbles around like sneakers in a dryer, demolishing my appetite. “Where are you headed next?”

“Hmm. Haven’t decided yet. Maybe east?” He shovels a forkful of powdered eggs into his mouth.

My hands tremble as I nibble on my shredded toast. “Who knows . . . maybe we’ll run into each other on the road somewhere.”

“Maybe.” He nods, and his eyes glaze over for a quick moment. “Too bad you won’t be in New York for the Fourth. Best fireworks in the country. My dad has a place there, so I’ve seen them firsthand.”

I force a smile. “I hear Hicksville puts on a good show.”

“No way.” He laughs. “You can’t even compare the two.”

Resigned to my fate, I toss the crust onto my plate and slump into my chair. “Maybe someday.”

“You know . . .” Dash takes another bite of his eggs, making me wait for the rest of his thought while he chews. “Since I’m heading east anyway . . . and New York is your next stop. And since your car won’t be fixed until at least Tuesday, if they get the parts before then. Stuff gets lost in transit all the time.”

Butterflies burst through my insides as I sit on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to get to the point. If he’s thinking what I hope he’s thinking, I’m ready to say yes. Come on. Ask already!

“You could maybe . . . tag along with me?” His eyes stay fixed on his plate, as if his offer is no big deal. “I’ve got room.”

I snatch a strawberry from my plate and shove it between my lips to keep from squealing. “That’s true. That car is ridiculously large for one person.”

“So it’s settled then.” His lips curve into a dazzling grin as he lifts his gaze to mine. “Finish eating and we’ll go get your stuff from Mack’s. It’s a long way to New York from here.”