“That’s me,” I reply as I step forward, but then Derek has to go and open his big stupid mouth.
“Actually, we aren’t in need of your services today. I apologize for the inconvenience. Here, let me compensate you for your losttime.” Derek pulls out an honest-to-god money clip, peels off a crisp—fuck me, is that a Benjamin?—and offers it to the guy.
“Actually, no. I still want the ride.” I reach for the door handle, but I can literally see the dude doing the math and know I’m going to lose this battle.
My fare is worth one quarter of what Derek is offering him to cancel on me. And then he can grab another job and earn more than double.
The guy shoots me an apologetic smile, takes the cash from Derek, gets back in his car, fiddles with his phone for a moment, and then drives off, which is when I receive a notification from him that I was a no-show but still gave me a five-star review.
What the fuck?
I turn to Derek, eyes wide with…with…fuck, I don’t even know what I feel right now.
Irritated.
Frustrated.
Incredulous—because, did that just really happen?
Angry.
Really fucking angry. Like my insides are volcanic lava seconds away from eruption.
“What the hell is your problem?” I demand, voice grating over the last few words.
Derek smiles, still holding the fucking money clip as he crosses his arms over his chest. “We all voted and decided it was best one of us takes you to your appointment. The others drew the short straws.”
“A vote? About what’s best for me? You don’t get to decide that. I get to decide that. Me.” I jab my thumb into my chest, the heat starting to pour out of my skin as I try to hold in the bubble of hysterical laughter sitting in the base of my throat. “This is so fucking typical of you. When are you going to get it? I don’t need you making decisions on my behalf. I’m fully fucking capable ofknowing what the hell I want and need. I might be only eighteen, but I have more goddamn experience with the consequences of other people’s shit decisions than you ever will.”
My chest rises and falls with every ragged breath I take, and I have to stop looking at him or I might commit a felony. So, I unlock my phone and go back into the rideshare app to order another vehicle, happy that I prefer to be chronically early and that I have enough time to deal with this bullshit and still have time in the waiting room.
I get as far as reselecting my destination before he tries talking to me again.
“If you’re ordering another car, I wouldn’t. I have another nine of those from where the first one came from. All you’re going to do is tank your rider score and cost me a thousand dollars, and you will definitely miss your appointment.” The oh-so-fucking casual way he lays it all out there is infuriating, like he is explaining every foregone conclusion that has ever existed.
My thumb hovers over my car options, but my vision goes blurry, kind of like how I would imagine a red haze of rage would actually look when it’s described in a book. The very sincere urge to stab Derek right in his stupid face swells up inside of me so violently that I almost don’t get a hold of myself.
Why are they doing this to me?
Actually. Why do I keep asking myself that? I don’t have the fucking answers. But standing here, right next to me, is a man who always seems to magically have every answer to every question. He’s anticipated all my needs before I’ve even known them.
All except one time.
Pain slices through me at the memory of the club, them sitting around having a great time, while I’d been falling apart, alone, at the apartment.
Fuck me, I’d been having a good morning right up until this very moment.
“Why are you doing this to me?” All the heat and steam have left me, leaving nothing but mush. A wave of exhaustion threatens to take me out at the sudden deflation of my rage.
“Have you read the letter?” Derek’s voice is quieter and a lot closer than a moment before, his hand coming to cup over mine, which is still holding my phone open on the rideshare app.
It takes me a second to remember he is talking about the yellow envelope he gave me at the hospital and not the little notes from Hudson. I shake my head.
A hand rubs a soothing circle on my lower back, and I fight my instinct to lean into his chest, to accept his comfort, to let them off the hook for taking away all my power and choices.
Derek is quiet for several moments before he makes a humming noise that is oddly soothing, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand. “That’s okay, you aren’t ready yet. You may never be ready. But if you ever are ready, the letter will explain everything, and if you have more questions, I will spend every second of my time answering. But for now, please allow me to drive you to your appointment and then bring you back to campus. Just because you can do these things alone doesn’t mean you should have to.”
But I do have to do them alone. It’s just me.
