Road Trip (Jenna Ortega X Emma Myers)

Chapter 9 | Emma - Amarillo [1]

Waking up in a hotel room and drowning in self-hatred was becoming way too much of a habit.

Jenna attracted to me as much as I'm into her. That was clear. But she still seemed to think there was some way this could happen between us. It was my job to keep us both realistic. And I had failed miserably last night. I couldn't believe what I had done to poor, innocent Jenna with that phone call. By the way, her breath stuttered at my explicit language. I knew she had never done that before. So when her name popped up on my phone screen this morning, announcing an incoming call, I was beyond surprised.

"Jenna? Listen, I..."

"Emma, meet me at the truck. Right now." Her words were short and agitated. I leaped out of bed.

"Wait, what's wrong?" I asked. But she had already hung up.

It took me about five minutes to get downstairs and to the parking lot. The second I rounded the corner, I could see what had happened. Two police cars were parked near the truck, their pale lights flashing uselessly in the bright morning sun. The back door of the trailer was wide open, and I could tell even from a distance that about a third of the truck had been emptied. My stomach dropped.

Jenna stood talking to two officers, and another one sat in the driver's seat of a patrol car talking on the radio. Two more wandered around the inside of the trailer, their bright flash illuminating the destruction every few seconds as they took pictures. Every flash tugged at my nerves, and I felt an angry tension settle into my shoulders.

I waved to Jenna, and the worried look on her face clenched a little tighter. She gestured for me to come closer, then held up a coffee cup with yet another pastry balanced on top. I could almost hear her voice in my head. Your breakfast, muffin.

"So this is the primary victim?" the officer with the notepad asked as I joined their little huddle. Victim. The word scraped against me, and I felt my shoulders fold in on myself, my usual confidence gone. Jenna handed me the coffee and then slipped her hand into my other empty one. I took a deep breath.

"I'm Emma," I said.

"Emma Myers." One of the officers looked up for a second, doing that thing where people compare the person they've seen on TV or in magazines to the one standing in front of them. He quickly looked back at his notepad, remembering to be professional.

"Your driver already gave us her statement. Anything to add?" he asked. Jenna's hand gripped mine tighter for just a moment, then let go. I wondered what being called my driver meant to her.

I shook my head. "This is the first time I've seen it. Everything was fine last night."

The other cop has spoken up now. "Do you have any idea if this was a targeted attack because of who you are?" she asked.

"Anyone who might have a grudge?"

I laughed faintly. "Only half the tech bros in California," I said, trying to keep my tone light and failing.

"And there was that guy last night," Jenna added. I could have smacked her for that. Both the officers looked up with interest.

"What guy?"

I took a tiny step forward, hoping Jenna would get my mental message to stop talking, for fuck's sake! I smiled easily.

"It was nothing. Someone at the bar had a little too much to drink and made some inappropriate remarks. He was rather peeved to be rejected."

The officers shot each other a look, and the woman spoke again.

"Was he also 'peeved' to have a broken nose?"