Crash - Page 42/47

I let that sink in. “Oh. That’s bad.” I don’t yet know how I’m going to explain the truck. Or the relationship. I ponder it for a moment, and then put it aside for when I can think more clearly. “Did you talk to the police?”

“Yeah. They wanted to know if the gas line shutoff was related to our adventure, because Grand Poohbah Angotti was apparently grumbling about it. I said I knew nothing of it.”

“Are you serious?” I shake my head. “He was grumbling about it? We saved his fucking restaurant and his family, and he’s mad because he probably had to throw out a few pizzas? Besides, I don’t remember any gas meter being turned off.”

Trey regards me. “You don’t?”

I grin so he knows I’m teasing. “All I know is that we saw a snowplow driving crazily, and we acted on instinct when we saw it was aiming toward our rival’s restaurant. We headed it off so it wouldn’t hit people, because we are human beings like that. That’s it, that’s all. End of story.”

“So you’re not going to mention the vision thing?”

“What vision thing?” I smile sweetly.

Trey laughs. “You don’t know how relieved that makes me. It’s gone, then?”

I nod. “It’s gone.”

“Phew.”

“Right? Totally gone. But back to the reporters. They said what about me, exactly?” I bat my eyelashes. My lids feel all puffy and weird.

“They said a sixteen-year-old girl driving illegally with her stunningly handsome brother—who is eighteen and available, by the way—saved the world with their giant balls. Ah-ha-ha-ha.”

I roll my eyes.

“They interviewed Sawyer’s parents, who actually sounded grateful, and his cousin, Kate, I think her name was, who saw the whole thing from the time we were rolling. She said if we hadn’t been there, the snowplow would have hit right where the dining room window is, right next to the kitchen. The cops said that with the gas meter and kitchen ovens going full blast, there could have been a tremendous explosion. But PawPaw Angotti said the gas had been manually shut off just minutes before, ruining some food—yes, he really did mention that on TV, making him look like a total douche.”

“Hmm. Must have been an angel or something who turned off that gas.”

“One of the world’s unexplained mysteries, right alongside the Loch Ness Monster and the purpose of ‘being all gangsta.’” He leans back in his chair. “Oh, and then a honey of a boy came on the interview, almost forgot. The heir to the emporium, as it were.”

“Sawyer?”

“Indubitably. After his little statement, I think I’m sort of back in love with him again.”

“You jerk. Tell me what he said!”

He pauses. “Okay. In all seriousness, he said something like Julia Demarco was a real hero, putting herself in harm’s way to save the lives of diners and employees of a rival business, and that the Angottis were indebted to her and the entire Demarco family. And then he choked up on camera, which was superhot, and all of Chicagoland melted just a little bit that day.”

“Shut up.”

“True story. I’m not kidding. I watched it ad nauseam from the chair in the living room Friday night and all day yesterday.”

“Did you record it?”

“Rowan recorded it just for you.”

I grin. “Aww. She’s so awesome.”

“Ahem.”

“I mean, you guys are so awesome. Thank you for coming out to find me, Trey. I’m not sure we would have made it if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Of course.”

It’s quiet for a moment. And then I tell him, “Sawyer came by. I guess it was last night. I’m kind of groggy on what day it is.”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad I told you, but he’s been here the entire time, almost. He’s in the waiting room. He sleeps there, leaves for an hour now and then to eat or shower or whatever. Then he comes back.”

My stomach flips. “Are you serious?”

“And please don’t mention to Mom and Dad that you let him in here. They don’t want you to have anything to do with him—they’re being really cold assholes to him, actually. Dad, mostly. I mean, obviously they’re upset about all of this, but I think it’s also the family rivalry thing.”

I close my eyes and sigh. “So this didn’t cure anything.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it will eventually.”

“Why does he come here?”

Trey snorts. “Duh. He’s into you. I talked to him. He feels guilty, definitely, but he’s always had a thing for you, I think. He told me he was sorry about fifty times. I asked him to make it up to me, but he rejected every one of my suggestions.”

My eyes fly open. “Stay away from him, he’s mine.” I narrow my gaze and frown. “You really think he’s into me?”

“Sister, trust me. He’s into you.”

“Well, why the hell has he been blowing me off since seventh grade, then?”

Trey wrinkles up his nose. “You should probably ask him yourself, but I think something strange is going on over at the Angottis that nobody knows about.”

“You mean like maybe his dad is a hoarder with depression issues?”

He laughs. “Maybe. Though that would be a really weird coincidence.”

I think for a moment of the conversation I had with my mother before the crash. “Mom said I wasn’t the first person who had to say good-bye to an Angotti.”