said as if in a trance.
“O-kay. Are those . . . your instincts talking?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” she murmured. The trance seemed to break. She blinked and looked around. “Yes,” she repeated, sounding more certain.
“East it is.” He turned right and stepped on the gas. Indecision wouldn’t get in their way. “Any place in particular?”
“I’m not sure.” She gave him a pleading look.
“It’s alright. Don’t worry. The calls aren’t very specific sometimes.”
“Right.” She seemed pensive for a moment then said, “This sucks. I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.”
They’d had this conversation plenty of times. She wanted to live a simple life, have a simple graduation and become a simple cook. Well, not a simple cook, she wanted to be a five-star chef, a goal she knew she was more than capable of accomplishing.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it all out,” he reassured her, then left her to ponder.
Soon they found themselves on the interstate headed . . . somewhere. Away, at least. Greg didn’t feel all that happy about the fact that they were going in the opposite direction of Colorado. But in this, he knew he had to follow her instincts, even if east didn’t feel like the right direction to him.
Sam dialed Brooke’s number several times and bit her thumbnail a little more with every answer from her friend’s voicemail.
“Call me as soon you get this, Brooke. I need to talk to you.”
“That’s got to be the tenth message. Um, don’t you think it’s time you call James?”
Deciding how to inform her adoptive dad and Rose of their eventual escape had been the hardest part of the plan. In the end, they had chosen the cowardly route: leaving a letter that explained their reasons for their departure, a piece of paper that Sam had composed over a month ago and had kept at the bottom of her desk drawer.
The missive was mostly full of lies, of course, because the truth was too hard to believe. It explained their deep love and readiness to start a life of their own, and her desire to find her biological parents. It begged James and Rose not to worry and promised sporadic contact. More importantly, it assured them that the decision to leave had nothing to do with anything they’d done. On the contrary, Greg and Sam assured them they’d be greatly missed.
Very slowly and deliberately, Sam dialed a number. “I’ll call James’s office.”
After leaving a short message that explained where to find the letter, Sam threw her head back in exasperation.
“I hate doing this to them,” she said.
“I know.”
“They’ve been great. They don’t deserve it.”
But there was no other choice. They’d already gone over this a thousand times. Discussing it again would just bring them more frustration.
Sam got back on her phone and left another message for Brooke. This was turning as compulsive as her fingernail-chewing.
“Why don’t you try to sleep?” Greg asked to divert her attention. “We’ll be on the road for a while. Brooke will call you tomorrow. For all you know, she’s making out with Brandon as we speak.”
Another lame attempt at cheering her up, but he couldn’t think of much else. He had known leaving everything behind would be hard for Sam, but tearing out of town full of apprehension over her best friend made it that much worse.
Still, she played along. “Ew,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Exactly.” Greg was glad to see her try. It was a good sign.
“You’re probably right,” she said after a few minutes of silence. She opened the glove compartment and placed her cell phone inside. Her hand hesitated for a second before shutting the little door. She pushed up on the seat and, for the first time, looked ahead at the road.
“So where are we going?” Greg asked.
“Beats me.”
“Indianapolis?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she furrowed her brow. “No, further.”
“Louisville,” he offered.
“No.”
“Further than that?”
“I think
“O-kay. Are those . . . your instincts talking?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” she murmured. The trance seemed to break. She blinked and looked around. “Yes,” she repeated, sounding more certain.
“East it is.” He turned right and stepped on the gas. Indecision wouldn’t get in their way. “Any place in particular?”
“I’m not sure.” She gave him a pleading look.
“It’s alright. Don’t worry. The calls aren’t very specific sometimes.”
“Right.” She seemed pensive for a moment then said, “This sucks. I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.”
They’d had this conversation plenty of times. She wanted to live a simple life, have a simple graduation and become a simple cook. Well, not a simple cook, she wanted to be a five-star chef, a goal she knew she was more than capable of accomplishing.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it all out,” he reassured her, then left her to ponder.
Soon they found themselves on the interstate headed . . . somewhere. Away, at least. Greg didn’t feel all that happy about the fact that they were going in the opposite direction of Colorado. But in this, he knew he had to follow her instincts, even if east didn’t feel like the right direction to him.
Sam dialed Brooke’s number several times and bit her thumbnail a little more with every answer from her friend’s voicemail.
“Call me as soon you get this, Brooke. I need to talk to you.”
“That’s got to be the tenth message. Um, don’t you think it’s time you call James?”
Deciding how to inform her adoptive dad and Rose of their eventual escape had been the hardest part of the plan. In the end, they had chosen the cowardly route: leaving a letter that explained their reasons for their departure, a piece of paper that Sam had composed over a month ago and had kept at the bottom of her desk drawer.
The missive was mostly full of lies, of course, because the truth was too hard to believe. It explained their deep love and readiness to start a life of their own, and her desire to find her biological parents. It begged James and Rose not to worry and promised sporadic contact. More importantly, it assured them that the decision to leave had nothing to do with anything they’d done. On the contrary, Greg and Sam assured them they’d be greatly missed.
Very slowly and deliberately, Sam dialed a number. “I’ll call James’s office.”
After leaving a short message that explained where to find the letter, Sam threw her head back in exasperation.
“I hate doing this to them,” she said.
“I know.”
“They’ve been great. They don’t deserve it.”
But there was no other choice. They’d already gone over this a thousand times. Discussing it again would just bring them more frustration.
Sam got back on her phone and left another message for Brooke. This was turning as compulsive as her fingernail-chewing.
“Why don’t you try to sleep?” Greg asked to divert her attention. “We’ll be on the road for a while. Brooke will call you tomorrow. For all you know, she’s making out with Brandon as we speak.”
Another lame attempt at cheering her up, but he couldn’t think of much else. He had known leaving everything behind would be hard for Sam, but tearing out of town full of apprehension over her best friend made it that much worse.
Still, she played along. “Ew,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Exactly.” Greg was glad to see her try. It was a good sign.
“You’re probably right,” she said after a few minutes of silence. She opened the glove compartment and placed her cell phone inside. Her hand hesitated for a second before shutting the little door. She pushed up on the seat and, for the first time, looked ahead at the road.
“So where are we going?” Greg asked.
“Beats me.”
“Indianapolis?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she furrowed her brow. “No, further.”
“Louisville,” he offered.
“No.”
“Further than that?”
“I think
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