I pull into the gas station with only a quarter tank left. Thankfully, I should have enough money for the return trip home, so long as I sleep in my car and dine on the granola bars I stole from Kellan.
My phone buzzes with a call from Rus.
I told him I was homesick and needed to return, and now he’s scrambling to find me a room to rent.
“Hello!” I chirp into the phone, trying to sound upbeat so he doesn’t suspect something’s up.
“Where are you at?” he asks, sounding tense.
I look at the sign and scrunch my brow. “Cavalier Gas Station. Why?”
“There’s an accident up the road, and I think you should stay where you’re at for a bit. Maybe take in a meal.”
“It’s getting late, and I was hoping to drive a few more hours before it gets dark.”
“Trust me—you don’t want to get caught up in the mess down the road.”
I wouldn’t mind waiting in bumper to bumper traffic, but it would waste too much gas and I might not make it all the way home.
“Thanks for the heads up.”
I pull over to the corner of the parking lot and recline my seat, hoping to get a little shut eyes before the next big leg of my trip.
But instead of sleeping, I surf for jobs around Summerton.
An image in my mind manifests. Something similar to a food truck, but instead of selling food, I can go around grooming pets.
Technically, I wouldn’t need my GED to get started, but I still want to follow through and take the test.
I can do this. I really can.
As I plan the plot points of my life, an emptiness grows inside my chest, threatening to extinguish the small embers of hope I’ve struggled to kindle.
It’s my fault. All of it. I should have just accepted Kellan’s help without complicating matters.
The more I try to plan, the deeper into despair I fall, because while I know I can make it, a life without Kellan feels joyless. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth. I fell for him. Hard. And I don’t think anyone is capable of filling the void he’s left behind.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.
I jolt up in my seat, and look out my window. A large shape looms on the other side of the glass.
“Kellan?”
He gestures for me to roll down the window.
Confused, I roll down the window and bark, “What are you doing here?”
“Get out of the car, Greer.” His voice is low. Steady.
Every cell in my body wants to fling open the door and jump into his arms.
But the words written on that sticky note are etched into my soul, telling me how he really feels.
“No.”
He grumbles something, and moves around the car to the passenger side. “Then let me in.”
He probably wants to make sure I won’t tell Kellan what we’ve done, which is mildly offensive.
