Thrill Ride

  “Hello?”

  “Hey! Is this Jordan’s room?”

  “No, this is her roommate.” I don’t know what possessed me to toss out a smart comment, but the guy laughed.

  “Pretty funny! Is she there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Can I leave a message?”

  “Sure.”

  “Just tell her, ‘Cole loves ya.’”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  He hung up. I reached down, grabbed my backpack, set it on my bed, and pulled out my decision-maker. Compared to modern technology, my decision-maker was pretty old-fashioned: a spiral notebook where I list the pros and cons for any major decision, so that I always make wise and informed choices. It’s kind of an obsession with me. Sarah is always telling me that I take it to the extreme, but I believe in looking at all the options.

  I turned to the last page, jerked out a blank sheet of paper, and wrote, “Cole called.” No way was I going to get into delivering really personal messages about love. I folded the paper in half and set it on the edge of her desk, tucking a corner beneath her iPod speakers.

  Obviously, my roomie had a boyfriend. I wondered if he was here. I thought about how nice it was that he’d called her, and it made me miss Nick more.

  Nick was the absolute best. We had so much in common—went to the same high school, excelled in the same subjects, had the same friends. One night we’d all gone to the movies together. As usual Nick was sitting beside me. And, I don’t know. The movie wasn’t that good. Okay, it was really pretty terrible. And Nick leaned over and said exactly what I was thinking: We’ll never get these hundred and twenty minutes of our lives back. And when I turned to reply, his face was so close to mine…

  I didn’t remember moving toward him, or him moving toward me. But suddenly we were kissing, and we’d been an item ever since. And we were going to remain an item even though we would be far apart. Me, up north on a great lake. Him down south in Texas.

  We had e-mail and instant messaging and text messaging and our cell phones—we could manage.

  Couldn’t we? Sure we could. No sweat.

  I was reaching for my cell phone to call him when the phone on the desk rang again. I almost let it ring, but in the end, I didn’t have the willpower to deny the siren’s call.

  “Hello.”

  Silence. Great.

  “Helllloooo?” I repeated.

  “Sorry. Are you Jordan’s roommate?”

  Okay, I was starting to hate my roomie now. Another guy? And this one…oh my gosh, he had a voice like Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom, and Colin Farrell all rolled into one. It just sent a shiver of pleasure through me. Really strange. I never reacted that way to a guy’s voice. Not even Nick’s. But this one…deep, smooth, just a little—

  “You still there?” he asked.

  I was totally embarrassed. I swallowed, cleared my throat. “Sorry. I got distracted watching the boats on the lake.”

  Yeah, right, Megan. “Uh, yes, I’m her roommate. She’s not here. Did you want to leave a message?”

  Even though my roommate was obviously an inconsiderate jerk, I wasn’t going to stoop to that level. Sarah would be proud of me. She was always advising me not to get caught up in pettiness. Although I’d learned long ago that what she usually meant was, don’t argue with me.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have an incredibly sexy voice?”

  I held the phone away from my ear and stared at it. Had he said what I thought he had? First of all, my voice is not sexy. It’s kind of raspy-sounding. Nick told me once that I sounded like his Aunt Carolyn who smoked cigarettes. Hardly flattering.

  I knew this guy must be a major player. He was coming on to me and he didn’t even know me. What a creep! The fact that I was thinking the same thing about his voice only seconds earlier didn’t lessen my irritation with him. What kind of guy calls for one girl and flirts with another?

  Jerk!

  “Do you want to leave a message?” I asked, impatiently.

  “What’s your name?”

  “My name?”

  “Yeah. I bet it’s as intriguing as your voice.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Let me be the judge. What is it?”

  “Is that the message you want to leave for Jordan? That you want to be a judge?”

  He laughed. Big mistake to make him laugh because the deep rumble shimmered down to my toes and made them curl. Laughter never made my toes react. This was too totally strange.

  “Come on, what’s the big secret? Is it something embarrassing maybe? Millicent?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “Bambi?”

  I ground my teeth together. “No.”

  “Come on. There’s no way it’s as bad as my name.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I thought you’d never ask. Parker.”

  I scowled. His name wasn’t bad at all. Had he tricked me into expressing an interest in him?

  “So I can tell her Parker called?”

  “Who’s going to tell her?”

  I swear I heard him smile. I know that’s impossible, but it sure sounded like a smile in his voice. I relented.

  “Megan.”

  “I like it.”

  “My mom would be thrilled to know she has your seal of approval.”

  He laughed again. It was an infectious laugh. It made me want to laugh with him, but I was so not going to play his game.

  “Look, I’m really busy here,” I said.

  “Watching the boats?”

  “Unpacking.”

  “We could watch them together.”

  “Do you not listen? I’m unpacking.”

  “So you just got there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Met Jordan yet?”

  “Not in person, no.”

  “But you see evidence of her personality?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Let me guess. Clothes everywhere. Looks like a tornado ripped through the room.”

  “Sorta. Look, I really need to go.”

  “Gotcha. It was nice to meet you.”

  “We didn’t actually meet.”

  “Close enough. Just tell Jordan I called.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up, grabbed the piece of paper with her previous message, scrawled another name, and set it back in place. I was obviously rooming with Miss Popularity.

  Already, I regretted taking my chances with a roommate. Not that I really had any other choice. I didn’t know anyone who was working at the amusement park, and even if I had managed to convince Nick to join me, the dorm policies prohibited girls and guys from sharing a room.

  The questionnaire I’d completed requesting a room had asked only one question regarding roommate preference: Do you smoke?

  So all I really knew about Jordan was that she didn’t smoke, and she was a slob, a guy magnet, and from Los Angeles. Not exactly resounding endorsements.

  I walked to the window and looked out onto the lake. I could see the boats that I’d fibbed about watching: sailboats and speed boats. People were spread out on blankets and beach towels on the sand near the water, absorbing the last rays of the late May sun. The next weekend would kick off the summer and the theme park would go into high gear. Right now the park opened late in the morning and closed at seven in the evening. This week was training for the new employees.

  The door suddenly sprang open. I whipped around.

  And there was my roommate. Had to be. She was way shorter than me, maybe five-five to my five-nine. She had short, cropped hair the color of a midnight sky and sapphire blue eyes.

  “Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, moving into the room like a strong wind was pushing her. “I’d planned to get back and get everything cleaned up, but then Ross wanted to go to the lake, and I couldn’t find my bathing suit.”

  And who was Ross? Guy number three?

  She dropped two large shopping bags on her
bed. “Can you believe that I didn’t pack my bathing suit? Hello?!? We’re on a lake! How dumb was that? Totally. So we had to go to the mall, and wouldn’t you know it? They were having a beginning of summer sale, and no way could I buy only a bikini. You know?” She hopped over a box and grinned at me like she’d won something. “I’m Jordan, by the way. In case you didn’t figure that out.” Her eyes got really big. “Which I’m sure you probably did. Because you look like you’re really smart.”

  I just stared at her. I’d never had anyone talk nonstop for so long. Was she on some sort of drugs? And what did really smart look like?

  She laughed. “You’re Megan, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, it’ll only take me about fifteen minutes to get everything picked up.” She jerked her thumb toward the door that led into the bathroom and whispered, “Our suitemates are total slobs.”

  Our room had a bathroom that connected to the room next door. I hadn’t even thought to check it out, but I was also totally stunned that she’d think anyone was a slob. My mom told me once that people never see their own faults but will see them in other people. That was certainly true of my roomie.

  Although she had spoken the truth about cleaning up quickly. It wasn’t taking her long at all, mostly because she was just closing up boxes and stacking them in the closet, tossing clothes in drawers. She definitely took the minimalist view on tidy.

  “So you’re from Dallas, huh? We’ve been there a couple of times for vacation and stuff, mostly at the airport, passing through, you know? On our way to someplace else. Is this your first time working here?”

  I was getting dizzy. “Yep.”

  She laughed. “Yep? That sounds so Texan. You don’t have much of an accent. I thought Texans had slow drawls.”

  “Depends on which part of Texas you’re from.” I was anxious to get the conversation turned away from me. “By the way, you got some phone calls while you were out.” I pointed at her desk.

  “Oh, gosh, I didn’t think anyone would ever call me here.” Jordan snatched up the sheet of paper and scanned it. “Cole called! That was so sweet of him. Did he say anything special, why he called?”

  I shrugged, shook my head. He could tell her when he saw her that he loved her. “Not really.”

  “Huh. He usually leaves a ‘love ya’ message, as his signature. I’ve never figured out why, but that’s Cole. Lots of love. How about Parker?” Her voice softened with the mention of his name. “He didn’t leave a message either?”

  Again I shook my head.

  “I’m surprised he called. He hates talking on the phone.”

  Could have fooled me. The guy was a regular chatterbox.

  Jordan picked up the receiver and began pressing numbers. She gave me a wink as she waited.

  “Hi! I know! I know!” She bobbed her head from side to side. “I went shopping and I had my cell phone with me, but I’d forgotten to recharge it…I know, I know, I’ll charge it tonight. Yeah, she seems really nice. So I was worrying for nothing. Just like you said. I’m going to come over later. Okay…See you in a bit. Love ya…Bye.”

  Jordan hung up. “Parker…he is just so cool. He’s worked here two summers already so he knows everything and everyone. I’m going to have him give me some tips for tomorrow.”

  “Does he live in the dorm?”

  “No way! He’s nineteen, already had a year away at college, totally out on his own. No way would he live somewhere with a curfew. He’s living in a little house on the lake down the way.”

  I understood why Jordan was a short person. Any energy her body would have needed to expend in growing had been used up talking. She didn’t even stop to breathe.

  A knock sounded on the door. She bounced over and flung it open. A tall, slender guy with brown hair hanging past his ears was leaning against the doorway.

  I could only hope that this wasn’t guy number four.

  Chapter 3

  “I’m starved,” he said. “We gonna eat or what?” The hint of irritation in his voice didn’t match the sparkle in his brown eyes.

  I wasn’t surprised to see a guy in the doorway. I knew both guys and girls lived in the dorm. Some on the same floors, just not in the same rooms or suites.

  Jordan pointed her fingers between us. “This is Ross. Ross, this is my roomie, Megan.”

  Ah, we were back to guy number three.

  Ross gave me a warm smile. “Hi. Newbie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me, too.” Ross’s gaze went back to Jordan. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Wanna come with us?” Jordan asked me. “They don’t serve dinner in the cafeteria on Sunday night.”

  Decisions…decisions…

  Go to dinner with Jordan and Ross…or finish unpacking and call Nick. No-brainer. I really needed and wanted to talk with Nick.

  “Thanks, but I need to take care of some stuff here.”

  “Okay, cool. We’ll catch you later.” She drew a circle with her finger. “I swear before we go to sleep that I’ll have everything put away.”

  “Not a problem.” A little lie, maybe, because I didn’t want to spend the summer putting my life at risk in this obstacle course of a room. But I didn’t want to start out as a difficult roommate, either.

  She and Ross left, and I began putting away my few belongings. I didn’t need that many clothes because I knew I’d have a uniform to wear while I was working. As for TV, stereo, etc., I had my own iPod—no speakers—and my laptop and that was about it.

  My cell phone rang. With my luck, it would be another boy calling Jordan. Ridiculous thought. So she had boys coming out the wazoo. Big deal. I took my phone out of my backpack, looked at the number, and smiled. My sister. I flipped it open. “Hey, Sarah!”

  She groaned melodramatically. “Are you ready to come home?”

  I laughed. “I just got unpacked. Too late now!”

  “So what’s it like?”

  “I’ve been here only an hour, but first impressions? It’s going to be totally cool.” I didn’t want to tell her my doubts about my roommate. Otherwise she’d start hounding me to come home. She was almost as thrilled as Nick about my coming here. According to her, I’d abandoned her in her hour of need.

  “Mom is driving me absolutely crazy,” she said.

  “Why do you think I took this job way up here?”

  “Chicken! Maybe I’ll go up there and move in with you.”

  “Thought you were going to move in with Bobby.”

  “Yeah, but not until after we’re married, and that’s not for several more weeks—if I survive. The latest is that Mom thinks my wedding dress is too daring for church. You’ve seen it. What do you think?”

  The neckline was low.

  “Do you have to get married in church?”

  “You agree with her?”

  “The gown is pretty revealing. I mean, it wouldn’t be on me, because I don’t have that much to reveal, but you are an entirely different story.” It was hard to believe we came from the same gene pool. We both had brown eyes but that was about where the similarity ended. I was tall, slender—okay, I’m being generous. I had to run around in the shower to get wet. I really got tired of hearing girls complaining about their excess weight, when no matter what I ate, I stayed thin. And hopelessly flat-chested. I had brown hair, highlighted, that was presently clipped to the back of my head. Sarah was a tad shorter, had blonde hair, highlighted, too, and she was one of the people who always complained to me about her weight, but of course she’s gorgeous and has amazing curves. Gag, gag, gag.

  “Why didn’t you say something about the neckline when I was ordering it?” she asked now.

  “Number one, you were looking in a three-way mirror, so I figured you could see that half your boobs were showing, and number two, because it’s your wedding. You should wear what you want.”

  “You’re doing your usual exaggeration thing, right? I mean, half my chest isn’t exposed.”

  “Almost.
”

  “Shoot. I hate for Mom to be right.”

  I smiled. That was part of the reason that so much yelling was going on at the house right now. Mom and Sarah are both stubborn, convinced that her way is the only way. For Sarah to even hint that Mom might be right was major.

  “So what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Guess I’ll see about changing out the gown, except that my one and only sister abandoned me for Canada—”

  “I’m not in Canada.”

  “You might as well be. Just cross the lake and you’re there.”

  “Do you have any idea how big Lake Erie is? It’s like looking out on an ocean. You can’t see the other shore.”

  “That’s not the point. The point is, how can I go shopping for a gown without you to help me make a selection? You’re my maid of honor.”

  “Take Lena with you.”

  Lena is her best friend and one of the six bridesmaids.

  “I will, but I like having you there, too. Maybe you could fly home for the weekend.”

  I laughed. “Sarah, I had to sign a blood oath that I would ask for only one weekend off all summer. And I’m taking it to go to your wedding.”

  “That sucks. You being there sucks. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss you, Megan. What were you thinking when you took a job so far away?”

  “I was thinking it would be a lot better than a summer of listening to you and Mom fight all the time.”

  “We don’t fight. We just don’t ever agree.”

  “You fight.”

  “Okay. We fight. I’ll send you a picture of the new gown that I pick out and you can tell me what you think.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” she said, sadness in her voice. “What’s it really like there?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Ask me tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I gotta go. Love ya.”

  “You, too.”

  I hung up. I sometimes thought that the reason that Mom and Sarah fought so often was because they were so much alike. Headstrong, determined, bossy. I was more like Dad: laidback, quiet, didn’t let too much bother me. Which was the reason that I’d thought I wouldn’t have much trouble adjusting to living with someone I didn’t know.