give me this ride. I’m so thankful.
Chapter Nine
“Want some music?” Jack asks.
“Sure,” I say.
“Your favorite?”
“Anything you like.” I want him to enjoy his music
so he can focus more on his driving. I worry after the long hours last
night, he may not have much energy left.
He picks Classic FM. It’s playing Beethoven’s
Symphony No. 2.
Odd. Why doesn’t he like hip hop or something
really energetic and exciting for young people? My
grandparents like to play those old classical music albums. Oh, yeah,
they like the country music, too.
“Jack, do you like the country music, too?”
“Sure!” Jack sounds excited. “Why? You like
it, too?” His hand reaches for the radio buttons, ready to switch.
Oops! Wrong question. “I prefer the
classical music.” If I have to pick, this is definitely less boring.
My iPhone beeps when we reach Philadelphia. It’s a
text message from Anthony. “Emilie, where are you? Please let us
know.”
Those we bitches are still together. I’m sure
Anthony is wrapping his legs around the body of the other we , like he
always did to me. His ugly dick is giving that we’s ass a good
massage, too.
I almost throw up at this thought. I press the
delete button right away. I really want to put everything behind
me.
Ten minutes later, a new text message comes. It’s
Anthony again. “Emilie, please talk to me.”
“Drop dead!” I text back.
“We’re glad you’re okay.”
Sure! You are glad. I get really angry.
“Bitch,” I murmur.
“What?” Jack turns his head and looks at me as if I came
from Mars or something. “What did you say?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I close my eyes. My life is a total screw-up
now. My stupid boyfriend hurt me last night. And now, he is trying
to hurt me again. Isn’t he the one who turned my world upside down and
forced me to run into the darkness and deadly cold? What am I going to do
next? Am I going to be a waitress in Miami for the rest of my life?
I never had the time to think about this. Now I feel
like things can be more complicated than I thought. The college may
realize I’m missing. What if they call my parents? What if they
call the police?
Suddenly, my iPhone beeps again. Is it from the
college? Or is it from that bitch Anthony again?
I pick up the phone. It’s MOTHER. Yes, my
ice-queen mother is calling me.
I look at the phone. I can’t decide if I should pick
up the call. What am I going to say to my mother? I never lied to
her in my life. But I can’t tell her the truth this time.
Eventually, the phone is quiet. Mother must be very
disappointed because she can’t leave a voice message. I can only afford
the very basic service. I received this iPhone as a Christmas gift
from Mother but I insisted to pay for the service myself—maybe I should have
let her pay.
Sorry, Mother.
“Why didn’t you pick up the call?” Jack asks.
“It’s a commercial promotion,” I come up with a little lie.
“Oh, yeah,” he smirks.
I am a bit angry. Look, this is none of your
business. “You don’t believe me?” I try to keep silent but I just
couldn’t.
“Why not? It’s a promotion, as you said,” he smirks again.
This Jack is too nosy. Maybe I should have taken the
Greyhound.
I close my eyes. I need to find a way to explain
everything to Mother. And quickly.
The phone beeps again. I open my eyes and see the
same number. Please, Mother. Stop calling.
I stare at the screen until the beeps stops. I know
she is worried now. Is she going to call the college? …Or the
police? I don’t know. But I really don’t know what to
tell her.
“Another promotion?” Jack’s voice is flat and
matter-of-fact. But I can hear the sarcasm right
Chapter Nine
“Want some music?” Jack asks.
“Sure,” I say.
“Your favorite?”
“Anything you like.” I want him to enjoy his music
so he can focus more on his driving. I worry after the long hours last
night, he may not have much energy left.
He picks Classic FM. It’s playing Beethoven’s
Symphony No. 2.
Odd. Why doesn’t he like hip hop or something
really energetic and exciting for young people? My
grandparents like to play those old classical music albums. Oh, yeah,
they like the country music, too.
“Jack, do you like the country music, too?”
“Sure!” Jack sounds excited. “Why? You like
it, too?” His hand reaches for the radio buttons, ready to switch.
Oops! Wrong question. “I prefer the
classical music.” If I have to pick, this is definitely less boring.
My iPhone beeps when we reach Philadelphia. It’s a
text message from Anthony. “Emilie, where are you? Please let us
know.”
Those we bitches are still together. I’m sure
Anthony is wrapping his legs around the body of the other we , like he
always did to me. His ugly dick is giving that we’s ass a good
massage, too.
I almost throw up at this thought. I press the
delete button right away. I really want to put everything behind
me.
Ten minutes later, a new text message comes. It’s
Anthony again. “Emilie, please talk to me.”
“Drop dead!” I text back.
“We’re glad you’re okay.”
Sure! You are glad. I get really angry.
“Bitch,” I murmur.
“What?” Jack turns his head and looks at me as if I came
from Mars or something. “What did you say?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I close my eyes. My life is a total screw-up
now. My stupid boyfriend hurt me last night. And now, he is trying
to hurt me again. Isn’t he the one who turned my world upside down and
forced me to run into the darkness and deadly cold? What am I going to do
next? Am I going to be a waitress in Miami for the rest of my life?
I never had the time to think about this. Now I feel
like things can be more complicated than I thought. The college may
realize I’m missing. What if they call my parents? What if they
call the police?
Suddenly, my iPhone beeps again. Is it from the
college? Or is it from that bitch Anthony again?
I pick up the phone. It’s MOTHER. Yes, my
ice-queen mother is calling me.
I look at the phone. I can’t decide if I should pick
up the call. What am I going to say to my mother? I never lied to
her in my life. But I can’t tell her the truth this time.
Eventually, the phone is quiet. Mother must be very
disappointed because she can’t leave a voice message. I can only afford
the very basic service. I received this iPhone as a Christmas gift
from Mother but I insisted to pay for the service myself—maybe I should have
let her pay.
Sorry, Mother.
“Why didn’t you pick up the call?” Jack asks.
“It’s a commercial promotion,” I come up with a little lie.
“Oh, yeah,” he smirks.
I am a bit angry. Look, this is none of your
business. “You don’t believe me?” I try to keep silent but I just
couldn’t.
“Why not? It’s a promotion, as you said,” he smirks again.
This Jack is too nosy. Maybe I should have taken the
Greyhound.
I close my eyes. I need to find a way to explain
everything to Mother. And quickly.
The phone beeps again. I open my eyes and see the
same number. Please, Mother. Stop calling.
I stare at the screen until the beeps stops. I know
she is worried now. Is she going to call the college? …Or the
police? I don’t know. But I really don’t know what to
tell her.
“Another promotion?” Jack’s voice is flat and
matter-of-fact. But I can hear the sarcasm right
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