I turned to see my father running toward us, wearing his navy scrubs and crisp lab coat. I steeled myself for impact. I was really hoping to avoid this part. But the universe was apparently giving me no other choice.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He was so angry I could see his cheeks turning pink.
I clenched the door handle. “I’m quitting.”
“Honey, let’s talk. Don’t make a scene.”
Honey was his favorite gaslight word. What Honey really meant was“You’re overreacting.”
“I tried talking. But you’re never going to listen. So I’m done now. I’m done with this job, this place. And I’mreally done pretending we’re fine.” I climbed into the van and couldn’t meet his eyes as I said my last words. “I need space. So please just let me go.”
His name tag bounced against his coat pocket as he hurriedly jogged alongside the van, which was slowly starting to move. The tag read"Dr. Ezra Elmswood."
I thought with a mix of sadness and disdain that I didn’t even know who he was anymore.
“I can talk to Conrad, we can figure this out—” His hand gripped the handle of the passenger side, like he wished he had the strength to stop the vehicle from leaving.
“No,” I said firmly, trying to keep my voice from wavering. “There’s nothing left to figure out, Dad. Now please?—”
And then I slammed the door. My father yanked his fingers back at the last second before they could get squished. His yelling became muffled behind the glass, and I turned to Emily and gave her a silent nod.
She raised an eyebrow. “Need me to do donuts in the parking lot for dramatic effect?”
“Tempting,” I muttered. “But no, let’s just go.”
The tires squealed as we peeled out of the lot.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of you in my life,” Emily said.
“You okay?” Emily asked, flicking her eyes over to me in the passenger seat.
“Yeah,” I said, but my throat felt like it was closing up. “Just… give me a minute.” I was most definitely freaking out, but I wasn’t ready to unpack it all at that moment while hurtling down the freeway in my best friend’s luxury van.
My fingers were already tingling. Starting at my fingertips, I felt a familiar numbness spread. It climbed across the bridge of my nose and bloomed on my tongue, making it hard to breathe. It felt like my mind had the remote to my body and was pressing random buttons.
I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly.You’re not dying. You’re not dying.
Eventually, the tingling faded, and precious air returned to my lungs.
“I think I’m good now,” I said, reaching for Emily’s hot pink mug like it was a lifeline. One sip of the bubbling Coca-Cola, and I felt my world recenter.
Emily snorted. “You’re the only person who panic-drinks my Coke.”
“It always tastes better in your mug for some reason.”
“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” Emily turned the conversation from soda back to the matter at hand, not missing a beat.
“You should’ve seen their faces,” I said, shaking my head.
“I saw your father’s face. He looked absolutely blindsided.”
“He deserved it.” My jaw clenched. He couldn’t control me anymore. Or try to dictate my life or placate me with more lies.
“I know,” Emily said, giving me a confident smile. “Now, where are we headed?”
“Big Bear,” I said.
“Big Bear?” Emily’s crimson eyebrows shot up, and the van jolted a tad as her foot slipped off the gas for a surprised millisecond. “What’s in Big Bear?”
