The forecast isn’t showing any more than a few light showers to pop up throughout the day, but it doesn’t exactly look inviting out there.
Jase’s eyes narrow, that smile trying and failing to turn into a scowl. “Don’t make me come up there and get you.”
For some reason, I can’t sleep without fresh air coming into my room during the spring and summer, and Jase knows this.
But before he can move to the lattice, I close and lock my window.
“So,” he croons, “thisis how you want to play then?”
I flash him a ridiculously sugary smile. “Yeah, it’s not much of a game if I just won.”
“Ten minutes,” he warns, “or I will do something truly heinous.”
I’m about to call bullshit when my phone buzzes with a text message from Jase. Opening it, I find the two most terrifying words to ever be grouped together in all of the English language. “You wouldn’t dare…”
“Ten minutes,” is all he says before ending the call.
Thankfully, I had already washed my face and brushed my teeth when I first woke up this morning, so all I have to do is just change my clothes, swipe on deodorant, and detangle my bedhead hair. I know for a fact that it doesn’t take me the whole of my allotted time frame, but that doesn’t stop Jase from making good on his threat. By minute nine, I can already hear Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” coming from outside my window.
Yes, Jase isRickRollingme!
He already proved he could hack into the house’s Bluetooth stereo system, so I safely assumed he would make me listen to the infamous music video by playing it through his phone.
The song has entered the second verse by the time I get outside, but it’s not Rick Astley’s voice I hear.
It’s Jase’s.
And he isn’t necessarily singing.
No, it’s more like he’syelling.
“Will…you…stop?” It takes me three attempts to choke out the request, because I’m laughing too damn hard.
But he just keeps going, forcing me to smother my hand over his mouth.
“Shhhh!” I hiss.
“What? I already checked. Nobody else is home,” he laughs, peeling my fingers away.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t haveneighbors.”
We don’t need Mrs. Page calling my stepmom to complain about the weird boy making a ruckus beneath my window, so I grab Jase’s arm and try to drag him toward the back of the property.Trybeing the operative word.
He relents, laughing as we trek our way through the mess.
To no one’s surprise, the entire yard is covered in storm debris with broken branches and large twigs impeding our every step. Unlike Jase, however, I don’t weigh enough to break thesmaller bits down with my feet. Instead, the pressure of my shoes flicks the twisted branches at odd angles, making them smack me in the legs. We’ve barely made it halfway across the property when Jase cuts in front of me, tapping his shoulders and lowering himself enough for me to piggyback him.
Usually, I’d roll my eyes and continue on my way, but the thin scratches marring the bottom half of my calves makes the decision an easy one.
I do as he asks and hop on, letting him carry me across the yard and into the section of the forest backing my property. On any other day, there would be enough room to walk upright without any obstructions, but the storm has knocked some branches loose. Jase has to bend and maneuver every which way to prevent us from taking twigs and leaves to the face.
At long last, we emerge on the other side, but he doesn’t set me down. Like everywhere else, the sidewalk is covered in the same debris. Thankfully, everybody who isn’t already at work is probably at home sleeping, because the cars on the street are far and few, allowing us to walk on the branch-free shoulder. The longer we walk, the more the sun breaks through the cloud coverage. And it’s getting hot out here. Oppressively hot. It’s the kind of hot that smothers you in the face and makes you feel like you’re not getting enough oxygen.
Nothing looks better right now than the burger joint on the street corner, the displays in the window showcasing tall glasses of ice-filled Coke and vanilla sundaes dripping with chocolate. Jase and I anticipate the blessed air conditioning will wash over us as we step through the front doors, but we’re met with temperatures only a few degrees cooler than outside. Also, none of the lights are on.
Sure enough, we’re informed that they lost power from the storms. Unless we’re paying with cash and ordering off a very limited menu, all of which contains room-temperaturefood, we’re pretty much out of luck. And it’s the same story everywhere else remotely interesting around town. The only places that have electricity are all of the fancy schmancy boutiques and restaurants on the north end.
Funny how that works. My house lost electricity at around two this morning, but it was already back on by nine. However, we’re hearing from the people on the south end that there was a total blackout at eight o’clock last night, and they still don’t have anything yet despite making up a much larger portion of people locally affected. It seems even the electric company caters to the elites.
