Kash wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “Soon,” he said. “I promise.”
“How? You’re working for room and board; I’m barely making enough to save anything. I think I have three hundred dollars in my savings right now. That’s not even enough to pay for gas to get anywhere good.”
His eyes twinkled when he looked down at me, and he kissed my forehead. “Trust me,” he said.
I did, implicitly. A small part of my mind wondered if that trust would prove to be my greatest weakness.
Chapter 12
The days went on like that, with Dad checking on me every night and me making time to meet Kash every afternoon. I made sure I was always in bed, reading and listening to music, before eight o’clock. Eventually Dad would get bored of his hyper vigilance. That was what I was waiting for—that was when Kash’s plan, and mine, could really start picking up speed.
The weekend was difficult. The only excuse I had for leaving the house on Saturday was to do the shopping, and I couldn’t time it right to meet with Kash. We’d decided that talking on the phone, even texting, was too dangerous. It would only take a small push for Dad to get suspicious enough to start checking that. Instead, we started leaving each other notes under a little stone on top of the tree stump where he always sat, waiting for me.
I lived for these notes. I kept them in a hollowed-out book on my shelf and re-read them sometimes at night. Kash wove images of a life I had always dreamed of, promising me a quaint castle with hardwood floors and a library, a life where we would leave for work every morning and fall into each other’s arms every night. They were just short of marriage proposals and I drank them in.
I’d never lived through a longer weekend, and Monday had never felt so good. I sped through my morning coffee and dawdled over my outfit and hair—I was giddy with the knowledge that I would see him that evening, so giddy that all thoughts of restraint were pushed to the back of my mind. I matched my bra and underwear without a second thought, and shaved my legs clear up to my navel.
“It’s hygienic,” I told myself as a little wriggle of anxiety began to climb up my spine. “It’s good to do this every once in a while. Besides, what’s the point of buying matching sets if I never wear them? There’s nothing wrong with using clothes as they were intended.”
Still, I left the house with a grin on my face which refused to fade all day. I twirled through the stacks of books like a fairy tale princess, whistling and humming to myself as I worked.
Excitement rushed through me like an endless freight train. I couldn’t be sure that anything would happen that night—Kash had been real reserved, and I didn’t know yet whether it was his uncertainty about his feelings for me, or his uncertainty about my feelings for him, or possibly just the fact that we were grown people behaving like deviant children—but I was ready for anything.
The air held a slight electric chill as I locked up the library for the day. I could barely differentiate it from the delicious chills already coursing through my being, but a quick glance at the sky showed the promise of rain. Maybe it’ll just be a little drizzle, I thought. Definitely not enough to rain out a romantic moment. A grumble of thunder in the distance argued with me.
“Well at least wait until I’m finished,” I said to the sky. “You can hold off for an hour or two, can’t you?”
In response, lightning flashed across the sky, splitting the clouds open. So, I guess mother nature wasn’t exactly on my side. I was drenched through to the skin in under a minute. It had been deadly dry for a month; the side streets would flood rapidly, and the gravel road which led to my house could be washed away entirely. It happened every couple of years, deepening the hollow by an inch or two every time.
The storm had taken everyone by surprise. Main street was full of cars, which was unusual. People usually sat out the first hour or so of these, long enough to see which direction it would go. Sometimes it blew through with minimal damage; other times the storm sat in the sky and spun until it was all out of rain to dump on us. Huge puddles formed in the margins and gutters of the road, becoming waves as cars plowed through them, drenching me even more as I passed.
The only thing to do was keep my head down and move quickly. I doubted Kash would be at our meeting spot; he was stubborn, but he wasn’t suicidal.
Cold seeped through my skin and into my muscles, making me stiff in spite of the exercise. The roads had begun to empty. The cars which remained were driving slowly and weaving in and out of the painted lines—hydroplaning was apparently scarier than dipping into oncoming traffic.
Headlights lit the ground in front of me steadily.
Very, very steadily.
As I turned onto the next street, so did the headlights. I quickened my pace, but they stayed right beside me. My mind raced. If it was Lizzie, she would have rolled the window down and called out to me, telling me to get the hell in before I got swept away by the wind.
If it was Dad, he would have blared his horn and pushed the passenger door open. My neighbors would have at least said something. I glanced behind me at the driver, but the rain was way too heavy. I could only barely make out the shape of a person’s head and even then, I couldn’t tell if said person was male or female.
I’m being
