“Oh my God. I’m so sorry!” The woman rushed to pick up her still leaking drink on the floor and gave me a once over, cringing at the sight of my ruined dress and jean jacket. I took a moment to do the same, taking in her casual jeans, Baylor University sweatshirt and sneakers. She seemed to be in her late twenties, and I marveled at her pin straight, sleek black hair that was pulled into a high ponytail.
“Frick,” she muttered, rifling through her handbag. “I don’t even have any tissues or anything. Oh my God. This is just so embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged, stepping away from her to just leave the situation.Great, now I have to walk all the way to the Quarry soaking wet and smelling like caramel coffee.
“Wait, please,” she rushed out, gripping my arm. “I hope you weren’t heading somewhere in a rush. I can drive us to the mall around the corner and pay for you to get something new.”
“That’s really not necessary. It was just an accident.”
She pouted her lips and gave me a pleading look. “Please. I’ll overthink this interaction for the rest of my life. I promise it won’t be any more of an inconvenience than this.” She motioned to the spilled coffee, and I sighed heavily.
“Let’s just call it even with five bucks for a load at the laundromat.”
She didn’t seem happy with the idea, and I caught the crinkle of her nose.
“Sorry, I just…I’d really like to get you something dry at least. There’s a thrift store next door you can pop into and find something at?”
I stared at her, annoyed that she wasn’t just willing to drop it.
She pouted. “Please. I’m a serial overthinker. It’ll make me feel so much better if I can know that you’re walking away with something clean and dry to wear.”
I sighed, closing my eyes to gain some composure.
“Fine, sure. If it’ll make you feel better.”
“Okay,” she smiled with relief. “Um, did you need to pay for that still?” she asked, eyeing the goods in my arms.
“Yeah.”
It was awkward silence for all of two seconds before she started yapping in my ear in line.
“So, where were you headed?”
“Home.”
“Oh, good. I was worried you were dressed up for an event.”
I shook my head, and she didn’t seem to get the social cue that she should just shut up. Couldn’t she have just paid for my snack or given me a five for the trouble?
“You having a good Sunday? Mine’s been pretty wild, running around all over the city for work today. Gosh, I wish I could have weekends off like the rest of the nine to five population. Can we even call it that anymore? It’s more like eight to six these days. Or in my case, all hours of the day and night.”
I nodded telling myself not to roll my eyes because I was trying to act civilized. Thankfully it was my turn in line, and I finished paying before she was leading us out to her car.
“We can just walk. It’s literally three stores down.”
“That’s okay, I’d rather park right out front. Come on.”
I looked her over again, trying to pinpoint any warning bells I was missing, before relenting and slipping into her Toyota Camry. It was messy, littered with drive-thru coffee cups, crushed energy drinks and receipts with gum stuck between them.
She smiled at me before starting up her car. She motioned for me to buckle my seatbelt, and I closed my eyes to roll them. It was extremely unnecessary when we were going to drive twenty feet. She pulled out of her parking spot with ease, crawling through the row of cars looking around the lot presumably fora closer parking spot to the thrift store, but when she drove straight past it my heart leapt into my throat.
Fuck I don’t even know this girl’s name.
“Hey. You passed the thrift store.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I could feel the hysteria lodged in my throat.
“I know.” She said simply, not bothering to look at me as she swiftly pulled into the traffic on the main road, away from the shopping area. Away from the Quarry. Away from stop lights and people. And directly onto the interstate.
“What the fuck are you doing? Pull over.”
