Ransom Page 4

  “No way,” Karen says. She’s lying on the floor, waving her legs around in the air in an effort to dry her pedicure. “I went last time.”

  “Karen, my nails are still wet,” Paige says, waving her bright purple fingernails. “If I have to root through my purse for cash, they’ll be ruined.”

  “Should have thought of that before you painted them, shouldn’t you?” She looks up at where I’m perched on the edge of the futon. “The fetching schedule is sacred,” she tells me, her voice serious. “It’s a simple rotation whenever we need to go down to the front desk. My turn, her turn. If we turn away from the schedule over something so common as painted nails, it will be mass chaos. We cannot have mass chaos.”

  I laugh. “I’ll go.”

  “Oh, no,” Paige says. “You’re our guest. Besides, she’s right. It’s my turn.”

  I stand, holding up my hands. “Yeah, but my nails aren’t painted.”

  I arrived in the middle of their mani-pedi schedule. Paige squealed when she saw me, apparently having been convinced that I would be a no-show. They offered to paint my nails as well—”I’m, like, totally an expert manicurist, Daisy!”—but I declined. They might be nice girls and all, but there was no way in hell I was going to let one of them touch me. I never let people touch me. Instead, I sat and watched, more entertained than I thought possible, as they finished their tasks, gossiping and laughing the entire time. They kept the door open, and loud giggling could be heard from their dorm mates up and down the hall. I had imagined being there would overwhelm me, but so far, I was handling it well. A break, however, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  Paige looks like she’s going to argue some more, so I grab my purse and take off before she can say anything else. Paige and Karen live on the third floor. There are no elevators, so I head down the hall to the staircase. A few girls pass me, and I keep my eyes firmly on my Converse so I don’t have to make eye contact with any of them. Safely in the stairwell, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  When I reach the first-floor landing, I nearly stumble into another girl coming through the door. I tense, certain she’ll be annoyed.

  But she merely pats my shoulder and grins. “Sorry!” Her voice is cheerful as she squeezes past me. “Not watching where I’m going.”

  I shake my head. Not all girls are bitches. You need to relax.

  I make my way toward the front desk. As I near the end of the hall, a familiar voice drifts out from an open door, and I freeze. Daltrey.

  He’s singing a song I don’t know, probably something off the new album they wrote after leaving home. But I’d recognize that voice anywhere. My chest tight, I rush the remaining distance to the lobby to grab our food.

  I still feel shaken when I get back the girls’ room. It’s crazy how the sound of his voice can take me back so quickly. It almost feels, for just a moment, as if no time has passed, as though I can just head next door and see his face, hear him sing, and watch him and his brothers play.

  “You okay?” Paige asks.

  I realize I’m standing motionless in their doorway and force my feet to move. “Yeah,” I say, trying to smile. “You guys hungry?”

  Karen takes the bag of takeout from me and plops down on the carpet in the center of the room. “Mmm,” she says, opening a carton of pad thai. “Yummy.”

  I join her on the floor while Paige grabs sodas from their mini-fridge. As we dig in, I take the opportunity to look around their room. When I first entered, I was immediately assaulted by a Ransom poster over Karen’s bed. I’ve done my best to keep my eyes down since then, but I figure the worst is over. Besides, this is my first time in a college dorm room, and I’m curious.

  There are no other Ransom posters, thank God, and as long as I avoid looking above Karen’s bed I don’t have to see Daltrey’s piercing blue eyes. Instead, I check out the myriad of photos of Paige and Karen, both together and with other groups of people, lining the wall by the door. Paige has a series of what appears to be hand-drawn pictures around her desk, and I remember her telling me that she likes to draw.

  They both have bright and cheery-looking bedspreads, Paige’s is a vivid purple with geometric shapes, while Karen’s is multicolored and flowered. A fuzzy hot-pink throw is balled up on the futon amid several yellow pillows. Candles are scattered all over Paige’s side of the room, and Christmas lights are strung along the ceiling. Shoes and clothes overflow from the closet. The place is messy and cozy—basically the exact opposite of my apartment. I’m surprised by how much I like that.

  “We’re T-minus ten minutes,” Paige says, looking at her phone. “Just FYI.”

  “Oh, good,” Karen says. “I almost forgot in my foodgasm.”

  “Gross.” Paige kicks at her. “Don’t say foodgasm. We have company. And Daisy isn’t used to your dirty gutter mouth.”

  Karen rolls her eyes. “If Daisy is offended by my potty mouth, I apologize.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “The food is pretty orgasmic.”

  Karen cackles. “That’s my girl. I knew you weren’t a prude.”

  Her praise fills me with warmth, which I know is ridiculous, but I can’t help it. I didn’t have a lot of experience hanging out with girls even before everything got so messed up. My best friend was a boy ever since I was in preschool. And that particular boy’s good looks and ridiculous talent didn’t do much to endear me to the female population once I got to junior high. I learned at a very young age that girls can be awfully jealous. I should have remembered that lesson.

  “Are you a fan, Daisy?” Paige asks.

  I look at her blankly, thinking she’s talking about Ransom again. But she points at the TV, and I realize she means whatever it is they’re counting down to. “Uh, I’m not sure. What’s going to be on?”

  They both gape at me.

  “Eight o’clock on Thursday?” Paige says. “Do you honestly not know what’s about to happen?”

  I rack my brains and come up with nothing. “Sorry.”

  Paige shakes her head. “It’s the finale of Engaged. We’ve only been waiting for this for, like, months.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Karen says, leaning over me to grab the gang gai carton.

  I immediately tense at her proximity, and spend the next thirty seconds trying to relax and barely listening while Paige explains the premise of Engaged. From what I manage to take in, it’s a dating show where the male finalists compete for the affections of the female lead. If they decide to get married in the finale, they’ll win a grand prize of a hundred grand each.

  “Uh, with that much money at stake, what’s to stop them from getting married and just divorcing later?” I ask.

  Karen snickers. “Exactly.”

  Paige makes a face. “You guys just aren’t romantic enough. I bet she picks Aiden in the end, and they don’t take the money.”

  “Why the hell wouldn’t they take the money?” Karen asks.

  “Because they’re really in love.” Paige’s face is lit up with a dreamy little smile.

  It’s kind of funny—if I just look at her without talking to her, I would probably think she was a certain way, with her piercings and leather clothes and wild hair. But so far, she strikes me as really sweet, almost innocent. Karen, on the other hand, looks like the epitome of the corn-fed, girl-next-door, Midwest beauty. Yet her personality has a much sharper edge.

  “You’re fucking naive, Paige,” Karen says, pointing her chopstick at her friend.

  “Whatever. Just you wait and see. I’m totally right.” Paige catches me watching her, and her face falls a little. “Of course, we don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to, Daisy. When I invited you, I just assumed you’d be a fan because, like, everyone I know is. But we can do something else if—”

  I hold up my hand. “No, it’s fine. We can watch.” I usually avoid reality television. The cattiness and downright nastiness of many of the contestants reminds me too much of my senior year. But I figure it’s a night for tr
ying new things.

  Watching a show with Paige and Karen turns out to be nothing like I expect. From the way Paige was so excited, I figured she’d watch in rapt attention. But she doesn’t. Instead, they talk constantly. Every word said by the contestants must be discussed, every action analyzed, to the point that I’m surprised they can follow what’s happening at all. Karen keeps up a running commentary of how stupid all the men are, making fun of them with glee, and Paige laughs along with her.

  Even though I have no basis of reference for any of these people, I find that I’m still enjoying myself. And that surprises me most of all.

  In the end, the star does choose Aiden, just as Paige predicted. Of course, the supposedly blissful couple goes for the money—”To start our life together,” the star says, her eyes bright. I’m sure, with the promise of a hundred grand.

  I feel kind of bad when I laugh along with Karen. Paige looks genuinely upset, as if she had more faith in her romantic idols than that.

  “Face it, babe,” Karen says, nudging her friend with her foot. “People are generally selfish, self-centered, and not to be trusted.”

  “You got that right,” I mutter without thinking.

  They both look at me, clearly surprised.

  I quickly grin and point at the TV. “Who would really turn down a hundred grand, though? I wouldn’t.”

  The girls debate for a few minutes if they would take the money, which leads to a larger discussion of what they would do with such a fortune. I, of course, do not mention the trust fund of nearly three times that amount that I’ll have access to in a few short years. I never talk about money if I can help it. It makes people treat you differently.

  “I’ve got it,” Karen says, smacking her hands together. “The ultimate! I’d take the money and use it to pay off Ransom’s body guards so I could get backstage to see them.”

  I’ve been having so much fun with the girls that I almost forgot the reason I met them in the first place. Is it too much to ask that I get through one dinner without having to think about Daltrey?

  “Oh, absolutely,” Paige says. “And I’d spend the rest to follow the tour in style. Not just a few stops on the east coast—I’d go all out.”

  “Yeah, we could fly from city to city instead of schlepping it in your P.O.S. ’98 Cavalier.”

  “Hey! The Cavi has seen us through some good times.”

  “True,” Karen agrees. “I don’t think I would have made it through high school without that thing as a getaway car.”

  “You guys went to high school together?” I ask then realize they did look a bit younger in some of the pictures.

  “Oh, God, yes,” Karen says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been stuck with this bitch since kindergarten.”

  “You mean you’ve been blessed with me.” Paige smiles beatifically before her voice takes on an edge that better matches her multiple piercings. “Right?”

  “Oh, absolutely, that’s what I meant.”

  “What about you, Daisy?” Paige asks. “Where did your best friend end up?”

  I stare at her, sure for some reason that she knows about Daltrey. “Uh, I… what?”

  “Did she go to a different school? Is that why you aren’t rooming with her?”

  “I… um… yeah. My best friend doesn’t go here.”

  They’re both watching me, and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my back.

  “Where are you from, anyhow?” Paige asks. “I looked for you last night on ConnectMe and couldn’t find you. I don’t think I know anyone who doesn’t have a page.”

  Shit. “Uh, yeah. I don’t really like all that stuff. Too much drama.” I try to keep my mind off the things she would have found a year ago had she looked me up on that site. “Drama” didn’t begin to cover it.

  They’re both still looking at me, and I rack my brains to remember the first part of Paige’s question. Had she asked where I lived? I can feel the panic attack closing in. Why can’t they just look away? “Jonesboro,” I finally blurt. “In Ohio.”

  Their eyes immediately go wide and I realize, belatedly, what I’ve done in my panic. There is no way these two girls, of all people, won’t realize the connection.

  “Jonesboro, Ohio?” Paige asks in a shrill voice. “As in the hometown of Daltrey Ransome?”

  Oh God. How could I be so stupid?

  Before I can come up with a denial, or an explanation, or anything, Karen points at me. “That’s right, isn’t it? You totally come from the same town.” She pauses before continuing, her voice dropping. “Do you know them?”

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod!” Paige squeals. “You totally do! I can see it in your face! I can’t believe this!”

  They both look as though Christmas has come early. I, on the other hand, am trying to keep my pad thai from coming back up.

  “How well do you know them?” Karen asks, sounding awed. “You’re the same age as Daltrey. Were you in school together?”

  I might start crying. What can I do? They know, and I can’t think of any way to convince them otherwise. Maybe if I was calm I could talk my way out of this, but my brain is just too muddled with fear.

  “I know them a little,” I manage to say, struggling to keep my voice calm. The girls stare at me, enraptured. “We went to school together. But they were always pretty busy with their music. And I haven’t talked to them since they left last year to go to California.”

  “Wow,” Paige whispers. “That’s incredible. I can’t believe you’ve actually, like, met them in real life.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us yesterday?” Karen asks.

  “Duh! Isn’t it obvious?” Paige says. “She knew we would freak out.” She smiles at me. “Sorry about that, by the way. It’s just so amazing!”

  “Holy shit!” Karen suddenly yells so loud she makes me jump. “You have to come with us now! You can, like, introduce us and stuff!”

  “Karen, stop,” Paige says. “You’ll make her think we’re, like, using her or something.” Paige turns to me. “I swear, Daisy, it wouldn’t be like that, not at all—” She stops mid-sentence. “Daisy? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper, standing up. “I’m sorry. I… I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to do any—”

  But I’m already sprinting for the door, grabbing my purse on the way out. The panic has hit now, waves of it rushing over me. I know I’ll be sobbing and gasping any minute. My heart is already racing so hard that the hallway is spinning. I can’t do this, can’t be this way, not in front of them.

  “Daisy!” Paige calls.

  I barely hear her as I rush down the hall. All I can do is pray that my crazy brain will wait until I’m alone before it sends me over the edge.

  Chapter Six

  Daisy

  I spend the weekend holed up in my room, not talking to anyone. I watch my favorite Disney films—Beauty and the Beast and Mulan—on an endless loop and tried to pretend nothing happened.

  By Tuesday morning, I feel slightly better and even consider facing Paige in Econ, but I chicken out at the last minute. Instead, I go to a cafe across from campus and try to study for my trig final.

  “There you are!”

  I jump at the sound of Paige’s voice behind me. I spin in my chair to face her, but she’s already coming around my table to take the seat across from me.

  “Do you have any idea how hard you are to find? Karen and I have been looking for you everywhere.”

  I swallow, my throat dry. Embarrassment and guilt are coursing through me. “I’m sorry,” I squeak.

  She waves her hands dismissively. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I should apologize. I should have known better than to freak out on you like that.”

  Confused, I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean, you should have known?”

  She sighs. “You have panic attacks, don’t you? That’s what all the shyness is about. And the freaking out in our dorm. You were about to have an attack.”

  I�
��m so dumbfounded I can only stare at her.

  She smiles slightly. “I saw you that day in Bartlet’s class. After he called on you, I watched you. The way you were breathing and clenching your palms? You were trying to avoid an attack, weren’t you?”

  My surprise is so great I forget to be embarrassed. “How did you know that?”

  Her expression falls a little. “My little sister gets really bad panic attacks. Just about anything can set her off. I’ve watched her react that way more times than I can count.”

  “Wow,” I mutter. Her seemingly random befriending of me suddenly makes a lot more sense. “That’s why you talked to me, isn’t it?”

  She shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “It’s not like it was some kind of charity effort or anything. I meant it when I said it seemed like you needed some fun. But you did remind me of my sister, and that’s probably why I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I feel the tears on my cheeks before I even realize I’m crying. She wanted to make sure I was okay. When was the last time someone could describe me as okay?

  Paige hands me a napkin so I can wipe my eyes. The tears keep coming, though, as if a damn of some kind has burst.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice shaking. “You don’t have to stay.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like I’m leaving. We’re friends, Daisy. Friends don’t just walk away.”

  “We are?” I don’t know why her words surprise me so much. She obviously wouldn’t have spent so much time looking for me if she didn’t consider me a friend.

  She smiles. “Duh. You don’t share pad thai and Engaged with someone and not end up friends with them.”

  I grin through my tears, suddenly feeling better than I have in ages. I have a friend. Who would have thought?

  “So here’s the deal.” She lays her hands flat on the table. “Karen and I both feel terrible. We hate that you’re thinking we would use you to get close to the band. We want you to know that if you come, we won’t say a word about you introducing us. We promise.”

  “I’m not coming,” I say quickly.