One Week - By Nikki Van De Car Page 0,15

I don't know how I didn't notice this, but I have a piece of basil stuck between my front teeth from this morning's pizza slice. I plop my bag on the sink and do what I can to repair things, but there's only so much eye shadow and blush can do. I look at the bruise at the base of my neck and turn away from my reflection.

That whole experience was an ordeal. I'm still marveling as I walk over to Jess. Who is standing there holding a McDonald's bag with a furious look on his face.

“What?” I ask. “What did I do now?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he says through his teeth. “We had fifteen minutes. You know how long you were in there? Thirty minutes. That's twice as much time. What the hell, Bee?”

“Oh,” I say lamely. “There was a line. Sorry.”

“There was a line,” he repeats incredulously. “And yet everyone else managed to get in and out of there in fifteen minutes and back on the bus before it left.”

“Well, if you knew what conditions were like in that bathroom,” I begin hotly, then trail off. Wait, what? “What do you mean, left?” I say slowly. “The bus left?”

“Yes, of course the bus left,” Jess snaps.

“But…it can't have left without us. I have a ticket. You have a ticket. We paid for a bus to San Jose, not a bus to halfway to San Jose. It doesn't get to just strand its passengers in the middle of nowhere…”

“It does if its passengers aren't back on the bus when it's ready to leave. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I—” I look around the rest stop, feeling panicked. “I don't know. I didn't realize how long it had been. I…what are we going to do now?”

Jess looks down at me and sighs. “Come on,” he says, and steers me over to an empty table. “Eat your cheeseburger. We'll figure something out.”

I unwrap the cheeseburger slowly, but I don't bite into it. “Like what?” I ask plaintively.

Jess shrugs, and takes a giant bite. “Another bus on the same route will probably come through at some point,” he says, his mouth full. “I bet they always stop at the same rest stop. We'll show our tickets and explain what happened, and we'll just get to San Jose later than expected.”

“Are you sure?” I ask in a small voice.

Jess looks at me, and he nods. “It'll be fine.”

Okay. I take a bite of the McDonald's cheeseburger. And it's gross, like I always thought. But it's also possibly the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. How can something be both of those things at once?

“Thanks for the cheeseburger,” I mumble. “And for waiting for me when the bus was leaving.” Although come to think of it, why did he wait for me? Surely any sane person would just have said the hell with Bee, and gotten on the bus. Right?

“You're welcome,” Jess says. “It's not like I'm in any great hurry to get home, anyway.”

I look at him curiously. “Why not? Why are you going home in the first place? Isn't it the middle of term?”

Jess twitches his shoulder irritably. “Yeah, I guess. I don't really…” he trails off, and looks at something over my left shoulder. “Hey, Bee, isn't that…”

I frown at him, and turn around to see my face on the giant television behind me.

“…Daughter of renowned Hollywood producer Jeremy Gold, reported missing yesterday evening. Mr. Gold has offered a reward of $10,000 for news of Bette Gold's whereabouts…”

“Shit!” I say loudly, and then duck back down when people turn to look. I pull my hair down so that it's covering my face as much as it can.

Jess stares at me. “You're Jeremy Gold's daughter? He came to talk to my film studies class last year. Intense guy.”

“You have no idea,” I hiss. “Is anybody looking at us?”

Jess looks around, though not as subtly as I'd like. “Not really,” he says. “But they're keeping that picture of you up on the screen, and somebody is bound to notice at some point.”

Damn. Damn, damn. “We can't wait for another bus to show up,” I say. “We have to get out of here.”

“Okay,” Jess crosses his arms. “Leaving aside for a moment the fact that you're running away to New York City without informing your very rich and very intense father, how do you suggest we do that, exactly?”

I look around desperately. “We'll call a cab.”

Jess snorts. “A cab? To San Jose? Are you