“Booty call,” Spencer says to me. He’s tuning his guitar in the front seat.
“What?”
“It’s not a booty call,” Logan insists. “We’re stopping by to see a friend.”
I wish they’d both quit saying “booty call.”
“You don’t just ‘stop by’ Texas,” I say.
“I do,” Logan says.
“Must be some friend,” Matty says. “What’s her name?”
“Avery. We hung out all weekend at a prefreshman orientation a few weeks ago. She’ll start ASU in the fall too.”
I can see Logan in the rearview mirror. He smiles in a way that really pisses me off.
“And we’re going to Dallas because . . .?” I need more here.
“Avery lives there.” I can hear the “duh” in Logan’s voice and I don’t like it. “We’ve been talking a lot. She said to visit her if I’m ever in Texas.”
“But we’re not going to Texas, we’re going to Arizona, and it doesn’t exactly look like it’s on the way.”
“It is if my brother thinks he’s going to get some. . . .” Spencer trails off.
Logan holds the wheel with his left hand and whops Spencer’s head with his right.
“Watch the guitar.” Spencer’s all jammed up in the passenger seat with the acoustic on his lap. Unfortunately, the case is still hogging up the backseat.
“You should be happy,” Logan says in my direction. “You’ll have some female companionship for a couple of days.”
“Days? Whataya mean ‘days’?” I ask incredulously. How well does he know this Avery person?
“We’re spending two nights at her house,” Logan says.
“All four of us?” Is he serious? Maybe she’s the kind of person who invites strangers to her house but doesn’t really mean it.
“She says there’s plenty of room,” Logan adds.
“You should have known all this,” Spencer says, turning to look at me. “It’s in the—”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Well, if Logan gets to go to Dallas, then I want to go to Dollywood.”
“I thought you hated country music,” Matty says.
“I do, but I love roller coasters and Dolly Parton. She’s Miley’s godmother.” I have a secret addiction to Hannah Montana reruns.
“We don’t have time,” Spencer says. “From the caverns we’re driving straight through to Nashville.”
“So?” I say.
“So, Dollywood is near Knoxville, which is before Nashville. We’d have to spend the night there. That’s not part of the plan,” Logan says.
“Let’s change the plan,” I say. “We can stay one night in Dallas, which would give us time to spend one night near Dollywood.” And then I say, in a singsong voice for effect, “Probably more girls at Dollywood than at Avery’s house.”
Spencer turns around again and raises his eyebrows. He looks at Matty, who seems equally intrigued by the idea. Aha, I might have a mutiny on my hands. I give Spencer and Matty a knowing smile and let it drop for now. If I work this right . . . Hooray for Dollywood!
• • •
An hour later, we pull into the visitors’ center at Luray Caverns. I grab my backpack and follow the boys to the rustic-looking main building, where we each shell out eighteen bucks for the tour and proceed to the cavern’s entrance.
There’s an eerie chill as we begin our slow descent down the smooth stone walkway inside the caves. Goose bumps rise across my arms. If I weren’t so anxious all of a sudden, it would feel like I’m on line for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World. I wish I were. Where is Orlando Bloom when you need him?
Darren, our tour guide, is going through his spiel about flowstone and dripstone as we walk along the well-worn pathway. He explains formation after formation—like the Great Stalactite pipe organ, these rocks that look like fried eggs—each illuminated with dramatic lighting. Under different circumstances, I might enjoy the beauty of these ancient sculptures, but it’s hard to concentrate because (a) I’m terrified of winged creatures with fangs and (b) I’m wearing a tank top and short shorts and it’s freezing in here. A guy toward the front with a kid on his shoulders reads my mind and asks about the temperature.
“The caverns remain at a constant fifty-five degrees,” Darren says. Hearing that only makes me colder, not to mention hungry. “Remember, at our lowest point we will be one hundred and sixty-four feet below the earth’s surface.”
Great. Now it feels like the walls are closing in.