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Back Jungle Up Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
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  63. Author’s Note

He inhaled on the red pen, then exhaled the vapor, engulfing the both of us in a fine mist. “It’s Jonathan.”

“My apologies, Jonathan.”

The sweet vapors from his vape pen—watermelon, I suspect—sent a thrum through my temples.

I squinted against the pain and said, “I just wanted to touch base about what happens when we land.”

He ignored me, smacking his hand on the open page of his magazine, and asked, “You ever been to the Maldives?”

“I have not.”

“Look at this,” he said, lifting the travel magazine to show a picture of turquoise water and white-sand beaches. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your life?”

“It’s pretty.”

“Pretty? It’s gorgeous. What do you say, you and me, Maldives? Beach, snorkel, surf, chase some tail. We’ll clean up, you and me.”

I would like to point out that I’d known this guy for going on nineteen seconds, and he’d just invited me to go on vacation with him.

There was an emergency door four feet in front of us, and I eyed it. I mean, I wasn’t going to pull the door open and jump out just yet, but I was considering my options.

“You keto?” he asked.

“What?”

He leaned over and grabbed my biceps. He squeezed it a few times. “Keto. Are you keto?”

I should mention that I really, really don’t like people touching me, but I decided to give this guy a pass. He was doing me a huge favor by letting me catch a ride—a favor he was being paid handsomely for, but a favor nonetheless—so I decided not to cram his vape pen up his nose.

Anyhow, I’d heard of keto in passing, but I didn’t know much about it. I said, “No, I’m Eggo.”

“What?”

“I’m Eggo. Blueberry, Cinnamon Toast, mostly Chocolate Chip.”

He thought I was kidding, and he let out a toothy laugh. Then he said, “I’ve been keto for six months now. Changed my life.”

I tried to steer things back my way. “So when we lan—”

“Sour cream.”

“What?”

“Sour cream,” he repeated. “I eat it by the tubful.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“No, it’s great. Blue cheese dressing too. Right out of the bott—”

“Listen,” I interrupted. “I just want to know what happens when we land.” This came out ruder than I expected, but his vape pen was starting to give me a migraine, and I didn’t want to hear any more about his stupid fucking diet.

Roth shrugged, his silver hair bouncing slightly, and said, “I was told to add your passport in with the others, and that everything would be taken care of.”