Rana: I hope not!
I feel like I should say something after this, but I don’t know what to text. Waiting appears to be a mistake. Rana calls and my phone isn't silent, so the ringing grabs Zeb’s attention immediately.
“Who is it?” he asks.
“Rana.”
He relaxes visibly, but still presses me. “Who’s that?”
“A friend of mine from Boston.”
“How much does she know?”
The phone stops ringing. For a millisecond, I wonder if I’m off the hook. Zeb clears his throat, reminding me that I am very much not off the hook. Zeb won’t take his eyes off of me.
“Just that I left town.”
My phone rings again, so I’m even less off the hook than before. Zeb purses his lips.
“You should take that call.”
“Won’t that put our location at risk?”
Zeb purses his lips and seems very annoyed with me.
“Take the call outside. I’ll give you ten minutes before I come out there.”
“You’re not scared I’m going to run?”
Rana calls for a third time and I worry that her next move will be calling the cops if I don’t pick up. I can’t stand around arguing with Zeb any longer. He hands me a key to the motel room and I slip outside, answering the phone call in the hallway and pointing the camera up towards the ceiling while I haul my buttcheeks outside.
“Hello? Hello?” Rana asks with a panic. “I can’t see you. I need visual confirmation that this biker didn’t slice you up like a cucumber.”
I tilt the camera so she can see my face and the plain brown wall behind me. Rana wrinkles her nose up. She’s at the desk in her home office, I recognize the background. I’m silently relieved that she’s not at a police station. Zeb’s right about how paranoid I am.
“Where are you?”
I hate being that person who keeps things from my friends, but considering Rana’s career, it’s not responsible to implicate her. She knows that I’m the kind of person to keep my businessto myself, so I keep my response short and try to let her know with my tone that I’m really not in any type of harm’s way.
“Far out West.”
My tone does very little to assuage Rana’s concern. Zeb said that I had ten minutes, so I hope it doesn’t take any longer to calm her down. I feel more scared than in love, and considering Rana’s job hinges on her ability to read people, my nerves are through the roof. Her intuition crawls around the edges of my statement, searching for cracks.
“Janelle, do I need to worry about you? Is this guy a kidnapper or something? Are you being held against your will?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “We just… clicked. I know it’s out of character but after Rakeem, I just want to feel free.”
The words slip out of my mouth and they don’t even feel like some bullshit story I’m telling myself to make myself feel better. That urge to disappear from my life after Rakeem’s revelation and that stupidly embarrassing barbershop fight has grown with each passing day.
While I wouldn’t have chosen these circumstances specifically to practice some light escapism, I have to imagine there’s a reason I called Zeb. And it wasn’t just the bathroom kiss.
“He’s not holding you at gunpoint?” Rana confirms.
Now that I know she’s not at the police station, I pan my phone camera around to show her the empty highway behind me and the most boring parts of the hotel exterior. I still try my best not to show her the motel name, more for her safety than mine. I don’t want her caught up as an accomplice and while Zeb assures me that my crime won’t catch up to me…
I’m not so sure. If I’m not careful, Rana might be able to piece together exactly where I am, but judging by Zeb’s attitude, we won’t be around here for long.
“Fine. You seem to be safe,” Rana says, relaxing in her office chair and folding her arms over her chest with some lingering suspicions. “I was starting to worry.”
