Page 4
Story: Run Away With Me
Brooke seemed lost in her own thoughts, too, or maybe she was just concentrating on driving. It was harder to see the street signs in the dark. Eventually she slowed down and pulled into the parking lot of a motel.
‘You should find a space out front,’ I said absently.
‘Oh, no way. I like to park away from the road.’
I glanced over at her. ‘It’s easier to get out in the morning if you park at the front.’
When I was younger, I’d stayed in motels with my mom, and she’d always wanted an easy escape in case the landlord she hadn’t paid was chasing us out of town. We’d only had someone catch up with us once, but that was enough for her to change her habits.
Brooke shook her head. ‘In this car? Do you know how often people try to steal it? I need to keep it out of the way somewhere.’
I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it again. ‘Okay.’
I couldn’t explain without telling her the whole messy story, and it was late, and it didn’t matter.
Brooke pulled into one of the short-stay spaces and killed the engine. ‘You want to wait here?’
‘I can do that.’
‘Great. Thanks,’ she said, already pushing the car door open. She got out and walked toward the lobby, her back straight and chin up.
I waited in the dark as the automatic doors of the motel swished open and closed. We’d been on the road for a couple of hours, long enough to get us out of Seattle and past the suburbs, too. Far enough away from home, I hoped, that no one would think to look for us here.
I watched as two businessmen walked into the motel, practically dragging their feet with tiredness. Then I spotted a woman, who could only be here for one reason, following half a step behind a seedy-looking guy.
My brain felt sluggish as I processed all my failures from today.
Get to the bus station.Failed.
Get on a bus.Failed.
But …
Go.Done.
2
Rumours– Fleetwood Mac
I woke up to the softwhoop whoopof a police car, and sat bolt upright in bed, my heart thundering in my chest. Had the cops caught up with me already?
After a split second I remembered we were in a motel off the interstate, and the police probably drove through here on a regular basis. There was really no reason for me to panic, especially so early in the morning. I pressed the heel of my hand against my breastbone and forced myself to take a deep breath. I glanced over at Brooke, who was sleeping soundly on the bed next to mine, curled up and facing away from the window.
The motel room had two narrow, lumpy beds and a threadbare carpet – far from modern, but it was clean, and I wasn’t going to argue about the quality when it had been so cheap.
Brooke had taken care of paying for the room and collecting the keys last night, and we’d driven around the back of the building to hide her car in a dark corner of theparking lot before taking all our bags into the room. Brooke had gone back to put the top up on the Mustang, while I tried not to worry about everything that had happened.
I didn’t want to go to sleep right away, but Brooke looked exhausted, so I didn’t shower before I got into bed like I usually did. She’d fallen asleep only minutes after crawling under the covers and I hadn’t. I’d laid on my back for a couple of hours, staring at the ceiling and listening to Brooke snore. Asleep, I had no control over what memories my subconscious flashed at me. It was easier to stay in control while I was awake.
Brooke’s exhaustion had made me even more curious about what she was running away from, but I wasn’t going to ask. Not when I knew she would only ask me the same question back.
While I’d been lying awake, I’d been able to hear the cars outside racing up and down the highway. That hadn’t bothered me, though. It was nowhere near as bad as some of the apartments I’d lived in with my mom, where I could hear babies crying and adults arguing through the paper-thin walls at all times of day. I guess the sound of the traffic must have eventually lulled me to sleep.
Now, looking over at the thick curtain covering the window, my curiosity got the better of me and I quietly slid out of bed to see what was going on outside. Two police cars were in the parking lot, their red and blue lights flashing, and I watched a female officer get out of the second car and go around the corner to the motel reception.
Oh no.
I’d been here before – well, nothere, but I knew exactly how this scene played out – and the last thing I wanted was to be directed into the back of a police car to be returned to my mom. I guessed there were two cars because there were two of us, one car each for me and Brooke, and both would be carrying a stony-faced police officer accompanied by a fake-smiling child protection social worker. They always sent the female officers after teenage girl runaways.
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