More Than We Can Tell
: Chapter 39

Ethan drives a silver Toyota Corolla. Completely boring car. When he pulls up, I’m surprised. For some reason, my brain keeps superimposing his in-game presence over the real guy. I thought he’d have something wild and crazy.

The window rolls down when he pulls up, and he frowns and says, “Azure M can’t cry.”

That makes me smile, and I swipe the last of the tears off my cheeks.

He looks exactly like the picture he sent me, which is a relief. He’s bigger than I expected. Not fat. Just … husky.

I pull open the passenger-side door and climb into the front seat. “Hi. Thanks for doing this.”

“An excuse to get coffee with a badass gamer girl? There are legends on Reddit about this.”

“You’re hilarious.”

My door closes, and he clicks the Lock button, then shifts into drive.

This is so different from driving with Rev. That car was loud and aggressive. This is small and quiet. There’s a name badge on a lanyard hanging from his gearshift. AACS is written in huge red letters at the top—Anne Arundel County Schools. Below that, in black print, is the name E NASH, followed by a smaller line that says INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY.

He sees me looking. “My mom’s. She works in IT. I told you I know people.”

“So she found him.”

“No, I found him.” He sounds a little irked. “I just used her system.”

“Oh—no, it’s awesome. I’m glad you did.” I keep hearing Rev’s voice, about how I wanted to handle it myself, and then Ethan took care of it for me. His words prick at my thoughts, refusing to leave me alone. “I was going to restore the game this afternoon, but then—well, you know.” I blot my eyes again.

“That really sucks about your house,” Ethan says.

“I can’t believe she did that without telling me.” I pause. “This morning, we talked. I thought things were getting better. She didn’t even mention calling a real estate agent.” I glare out the window and distantly hear him hit his turn signal. “She had to know I’d see the sign when I got home. What did she expect, that I’d be completely oblivious and just—”

I see where he’s turning, and stop short. “Why are we getting on the highway?”

“Starbucks? Coffee?”

Oh. “There’s one by the mall.”

“I just know the one on Solomons Island Road. They have a drive-through.”

That’s on the other side of Annapolis. But what’s the difference, really? It’s only a few miles down the highway.

“You’re going to bring the game back up?” Ethan says.

“I want to,” I say. “Especially since Nightmare is gone.”

“I’m glad I found him for you,” he says.

My phone rings, vibrating against my leg. I slide it out of my pocket.

Cait.

“Hey,” I say.

“Em? Are you okay?”

Beside me, Ethan sighs and mutters something under his breath.

I frown at him. But then, I’m awkward all the time. Maybe he suffers from the same curse. “Sorry,” I whisper, moving the phone away from my face. “I left her like a hundred messages.” I put the phone back. “Cait. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Mom says we can come get you. Where are you?”

“Oh.” I glance at Ethan. “I’m okay now. We’re going to Starbucks.”

“We?”

“Yeah. Me and a—a friend.”

Her voice warms. “Oh, did Rev finally call? I told you he would.”

I’m very aware of Ethan’s attention right now. I’m pretty sure he can hear every word.

“No, it’s—Cait, can I call you back?”

“Sure. Take your time.” She clicks off. My phone goes back to the Home screen.

There’s a text message waiting. How did I miss a text message?

Rev: Not mad. I was driving. You OK?

My heart flutters before I’m ready for it.

“Who’s Rev?”

For half a second, I forgot I was in a car with Ethan. “What?”

“Who’s Rev?”

I don’t know if he can see the screen or if he eavesdropped on the phone call, but either way, it feels unfairly intrusive.

“Just a friend.”

“Oh.” His voice sounds irritated.

The air in the car has shifted. “Are you mad about something?”

“I don’t know, Emma.” He gives a little laugh. “I don’t know what to think.”

I swallow. “He’s just a guy from school.”

“You just said he was a friend.”

“He is!”

“Is he the same friend you were out with the other night?”

I hesitate without meaning to. That’s all he needs.

Ethan looks away from the road to glare at me. “Who do you think you are? What kind of game are you playing?”

“I’m not playing a game!”

“When I called you, you were acting like you had no one to care about you, and since you got in the car, you’ve had two people reach out.”

“But …” I stop. He does have a point.

Wait. Does he?

He runs a hand through his short hair. “You know how much this means to me.”

Every time he says something, my brain has to process it twice. He speaks as if he’s talking more to himself than to me. “How much what means to you?”

“This!” He glances at me. “You and me.”

And then I realize we’ve passed the exit for Solomons Island Road.

My heart turns into a brick in my chest. “Where are we going?” I say.

“Sorry,” he says. “You made me upset. I missed the exit.”

But he doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t even change lanes.

“Just take the next one. Just take me home.”

“I will,” he snaps. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

I give him a minute. The car does not change lanes. We fly past the exit for Jennifer Road. Then for Riva Road. My heart pounds in my chest.

I slide my fingers across the phone to reply.

Emma: No. Not OK.

“You’re texting him right now?” Ethan explodes. “In my car? What kind of girl does that, Emma?”

The kind of girl who would give anything to be anywhere else right this moment.

I feel very small and alone in the passenger seat. I pray for the little gray dots to indicate Rev is writing back.

They don’t appear.

Ethan’s driving in the left lane, flying past other vehicles. He doesn’t look ready to exit the highway anytime soon. I glance at the odometer. He’s going almost ninety miles an hour.

My heart rate triples. Maybe a cop will see us and stop him.

I have never wished so hard for a speed trap in all my life.

I swallow. “I’m sorry. Can you please take the next exit?”

He says nothing. He keeps driving. The car continues flying along the pavement. His jaw is set, his fists tight on the steering wheel. Fear wraps around that icy brick in my chest.

“Ethan?” My voice trembles. “Please just take the next exit.”

I glance at my phone. Rev hasn’t responded.

My fingers fly across the phone.

Emma: with ethan

The fist comes out of nowhere. My head hits the window. Pain explodes into my face from both sides. The phone goes flying and lands somewhere between the door and the seat.

I taste blood in my mouth.

This is bad. I am so stupid. I’m breathing so fast I’m going to hyperventilate. Black spots fill my vision.

NO NO NO. I need to stay conscious.

I need to stay conscious. I tell the black spots to back off.

It takes a moment, but they listen.

I’m gasping against the window. This hurts more than anything I can ever imagine hurting. My teeth feel loose somehow, and my jaw aches something fierce. I wish I’d paid more attention to Rev’s words about self-defense and less attention to the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.

The worst part is the little sobbing sounds coming out of my throat.

“I didn’t think you’d be like this,” Ethan says. “I thought you were different.”

No kidding.

I don’t want to straighten. I don’t want to answer. The speed of the car traps me more effectively than anything else. My phone is sitting right there, upright against the door. The messages between me and Rev. He still hasn’t written back. I slide my hand to reach for it.

I bump it. It slips down.

NO.

Maybe I can still reach it. Maybe.

I can reach the screen, but I can’t get my fingers around the case. I strain, and my middle finger brushes the little “I.”

Great. Now I have Rev’s contact information instead of a texting screen.

Not that I could have sent a text. The bottom half of the phone is too low. This is useless.

I need to think. I need to think. Ethan is breathing hard beside me. He’s stopped talking. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

I try to reach the button to call Rev. It’s too far to the right. I strain hard.

A long shot anyway. Who knows if he would have answered. And how would he have found me?

Wait. A link sits below his contact information. I’ve never used it before.

Share My Location.

I strain to tap it.

My head is suddenly jerked left. I cry out. Ethan’s hand is wrapped in my braid. My head jams into his midsection. It’s just his abdomen, but it’s horrible. I can smell him, a combination of detergent and male musk that makes my stomach turn. I can see his feet. The grip on my hair is tight and painful. His forearm pins my face.

“What were you doing?” he snaps.

I don’t know if I tapped the link. I don’t know.

And even if I did, what will Rev do with that? He has no idea what’s happening.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please, Ethan. I’m sorry. Please just let me out of the car.”

“No. I want you to think about what you’ve done.”

“You’re right,” I babble. “You’re right. I was really rude. I’m sorry.” My hands are free, but if I grab the wheel, I’ll wreck the car. We’re going too fast.

We’ve gone so far past the exit that I don’t know where we are. Now I’m more panicked that he will stop.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please, Ethan. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me go.”

“Whatever I want?” he says. He flicks the turn signal. “I like the sound of that.”