My Sweetest Escape (7 page)

to abuse my musical genius.”

“Fine,” she said, going back to her

e-reader, but she gave him a little wink

before she did it. Everyone else seemed too

wrapped up in what they were doing, or

was busy trying to think of a song.

“‘Sunday Morning,’” I blurted out. It was

the first thing that came to mind.

Hunter looked up from the guitar.

“Maroon 5?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and looked over at

Dusty. “Can you give me a beat on that?”

Dusty nodded and sat up. After thinking for

a second, he started making sounds with his

mouth. Not just sounds. Beat boxing.

Hunter listened for a second and then

started strumming as Dusty layered on

more sounds until it was like he was

creating an entire percussion section for the

song with only his mouth.

I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from rising,

but no one else seemed surprised. Dusty

turned his head, and I made my face

neutral, but he still sort of grinned at me

anyway. Cocky much? Hunter started

singing, and I tried to find a comfortable

way to lean on the arm of the couch while

also pretending to be interested in the

explosions and chaos happening on the

television. I would rather set my hair on fire

than ask Dusty for his seat, or give him the

satisfaction of going to the dining room to

get a chair. Should have just stayed in my

cave.

Okay, so Dusty was
really
good at beat

boxing, not that I was an expert, by any

means. He made sounds with his mouth

that I didn’t know a human could make. So

what?

There were a million people online who

could do the same thing. It wasn’t anything

special. It wasn’t anything to swoon over.

He wasn’t anything to swoon over.

They finished the song, and Dusty did a

fancy noise that sounded like a cymbal

crash and reverberation.

“Good enough for you?” Dusty said,

turning to face me.

“Meh,” I said, shrugging one shoulder

and turning back to the television as Renee

screamed and jumped up and down and all

the guys groaned and threw their

controllers down.

“Take that, bitches,” Renee said,

pointing at them. “In your face.” She started

doing a dance that was somewhere

between slutty club dancing and a weird

touchdown dance hybrid. The guys all

booed and threw things at her. I just shook

my head. That was my sister.

“I’m hoping those moves are genetic,”

said a voice so close that I slid off my perch

on the arm of the couch. Luckily, I was able

to catch myself before my butt hit the floor.

Everyone else was too distracted by

Renee’s victory dance.

“You know it’s rude to sneak up behind

people,” I said, turning to face Dusty, who

had somehow managed to get off the couch

and creep up behind me.

“You know it’s rude to tell everyone that

a fellow has a rash on his dick when he

doesn’t.” He crossed his arms and leaned

down, challenging me. “So what do you

have to say to that, Red?”

Yeah, should have stayed in my cave.

“Nothing. I have nothing to say to you.”

Fortunately, Mase interrupted us.

“Little Ne, you want to take a turn?” The

video-game-master gene seemed to have

skipped me and just been concentrated in

Renee. I turned away from Dusty. Hunter

was watching us with fascination. Ugh, that

was the last thing I needed.

“No, I’m good,” I said, stepping around

Dusty and taking the seat he’d vacated on

the couch and claiming it as mine.

I shot him a smile, and he just pretended

to clap again before going to the kitchen

and dragging in one of the dining room

chairs.

Renee was still kicking ass when my

phone rang with a call from Mom. Just what

I needed. I got up from the couch and

headed for my cave. No way I was talking to

her in front of everyone.

“Hey, Mom.” I heard screaming in the

background, but that was par for the

course. Mom always called me when she

was doing a million other things.

“Hey, Jos.” Her voice was tense, but less

tense than it had been earlier in the week.

We’d somehow made our way onto

less-shaky ground, but that didn’t mean she

was any less pissed at me. “You ready to

start classes tomorrow?” A shriek meant

that she was probably taking something

away from one of the twins.

“As I’ll ever be.” I didn’t have a choice.

They wouldn’t even let me drop out when

I’d suggested it as a potential solution to my

academic implosion. I could get a place and

a job and then they’d get off my back. I

wouldn’t waste their money—or the

government’s. Win-win situation. Or so I’d

thought. Mom had acted like I’d just told

her I’d brutally slaughtered a bunch of

people, and Dad just hung up on me when I

pitched it to him after striking out with her.

And Renee had threatened to strangle me

for even mentioning it.

“Well, I want a full report when you get

back, you hear? I swear, if I get a call from

your sister telling me that you’ve skipped,

there will be hell to pay.”

“I know, I know.”

“Okay, then. No, you cannot have

cookies for dinner.

How many times do I have to tell you

that?” I waited for her to be done yelling at

whichever of my siblings had the audacity

to want cookies for dinner.

“Listen, I’ve got a tantrum brewing here,

and Chuck is working late, so I’m on my

own. Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” She never would.

“’Bye, Jos. Say goodbye to Jos,

everybody!” She must have held the phone

up, and I heard a chorus of my siblings

saying goodbye.

“’Bye, everybody,” I yelled back. Then

the chaos resumed and then the call died.

So much for that. I put my phone back in

my pocket and went up the stairs.

Hunter and Dusty were going crazy with

a rendition of “Everybody Talks” by Neon

Trees. Dusty was also banging out the

rhythm on his chair. The video game had

been abandoned, and everyone else was

humming along, including Renee. I stood

back and hovered, not wanting to bust into

the musical bubble. The song ended and

Renee gave me a look. She probably wanted

a play-by-play of the conversation with

Mom. It wasn’t really anything

earth-shattering, so I just sat back down on

the couch as they finished the song.

“Okay, my turn. ‘Scream,’ Usher. Go,”

Dusty said before starting a set of vocal

gymnastics that were even more impressive

than what I’d heard already. Okay, okay,

you’re talented. We get the message. As

soon as Hunter started singing, Mase

jumped up and started dancing. Dev

hopped up and they somehow managed to

dance in the small space without breaking

anything. I would have thought Darah

would have been tweaking out about the

possibility of one of the carefully arranged

pictures or vases or any of the other really

nice things being smashed by her

boyfriend’s sick dance moves, but she just

smiled and watched with her chin in her

hands.

Idiots. They were all idiots.

The singing went on for a while and then

someone mentioned food and then that

was all anyone could talk about, so the

group reached a consensus that a night out

was in order.

“Yeah, we never got to celebrate the

new member of the Yellowfield House

family,” Taylor said while everyone yelled

out suggestions. That made everyone turn

to me, including Dusty.

“So, you get to pick the place,” Taylor

said. Even though she was not that much

older than me, when she talked everyone

seemed to listen. She was the shortest one,

too.

“Um, I don’t even know what’s around

here.” I’d wanted to go out and see what

was around Bangor, but Renee had been

totally down on that. I might actually have

fun, and that was definitely against the

rules.

And then they all started talking at once,

each pitching for their favorite place, telling

me which had the best steaks or pizza or

bread sticks. Jesus, they were loud.

“Whoa, hold up,” I said. “I can’t think

straight when you’re all yelling at me. We

need to, like, do this democratically.”

Darah piped up.

“How about everyone writes their

choices on pieces of paper and then Jos will

pick one?”

That made everyone but Dusty burst

into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, because it worked out so well

before,” Taylor said, poking Hunter in the

chest. He just grabbed her hand and kissed

it.

“Pretty swell, I’d say.”

I gave Dusty a look, because he was the

only other person who wasn’t enjoying the

inside joke.

“Okay, then,” Dusty said, ripping a piece

of notebook paper out of one that someone

had been doing homework in earlier. “My

choice is Sea Dog. Who’s next?” He wrote

down everyone’s choices and then tore the

slips in equal pieces, folded them up and

tossed them in one of Mase’s hats.

“Do the honors, Red,” Dusty said,

bowing and holding the hat out as if he was

bestowing a great gift.

They all waited with anticipation like I

was choosing something that would affect

the rest of their lives. I grasped a piece of

paper, unfolded it and read it out.

“Sea Dog it is.” Dusty winked at me. Of

course I’d picked his choice. Everyone else

agreed that it was a nice place and started

to get their stuff together.

“Need a ride, Red?” He’d sidled up

behind me again as I’d gotten my coat.

“I swear, one of these times you’re

going to get a faceful of my fist if you sneak

up on me, Dustin.”

“You coming, Jos?” Renee said as Paul

helped her on with her coat and everyone

else piled into their cars. I decided to seize

my opportunity to get out from under her

radar, even if I’d have to spend a few

minutes with Dusty.

“I’m going to ride with Dusty.” He

looked surprised for a second but then

smiled. Did he just…smile all the time?

Was it a reflex?

Renee looked like she was going to

protest and then Paul said something in her

ear. They had a quick argument and Renee

threw up her hands.

“Fine. See you there.” I didn’t know

what she was making such a big deal about.

The restaurant was just down the road.

“Ladies first,” Dusty said, pointing

toward a black VW Golf that had more than

a few dings. “By the way, I wrote Sea Dog

on all of them,” he whispered.

Of course he did.

“Wow, sneaky,” I said, pretending to

sound impressed. He shut the door for me,

and I resisted the urge to call him out on it.

Matt, my ex, was big on door opening, and

I’d always liked it. Yeah, I knew that it was

against feminism or whatever, but it was

still nice. Matt was big on things like that.

Flowers on holidays and pulling chairs

out and wearing ties.

His ambition was to be president, and

he always said if you wanted to be

president the first step was looking like one.

Granted, I’d also dressed very differently

then. Yes, I’d had skirts and blazers and

pumps and even brooches for my neck

scarves. I’d boxed all of it up and left it at

Mom’s house when I’d moved into my

dorm room this year. No need for any of

that anymore. I’d quit all the clubs I’d been

in, even Student Council, much to the

dismay of nearly everyone there. Mostly

because I kept the minutes and no one else

wanted to do it.

“So what’s your story, Joscelyn Archer?”

Dusty said as he pulled out behind Taylor’s

Charger. “Have you always had that chip on

your shoulder, or is it new?”

Why the hell did he care?

“What’s
your
story, Dustin Sharp?

Renee’s never mentioned you before.”

Instead of turning on the radio, he made his

own music by tapping on the steering wheel

and making snare drum sounds with his

mouth. I was beginning to think he had

ADHD. It would explain a lot.

“I bet yours is more interesting than

mine,” he said, turning to look at me. I

stared out the window, pretending to be

fascinated with the houses that passed by.

“Okay, fine. You win,” he said when I

didn’t answer. “Let’s just say I wasn’t always

this good-looking and talented. I, uh, got

myself into a lot of trouble when I was

younger, if you can believe that.” Could I?

You bet.

“And I screwed up a lot and then

something happened to me to…yeah, this

part sounds lame, but something happened

to put things in perspective, you know? And

I stopped screwing around, and I started