Emancipating Andie

by Priscilla Glenn

  He had no idea if she meant that to be an invitation or not, but he decided to take it as one. Chase took a small breath before trying again.

  “So,” he said, turning to face her, “what’s the plan?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What are we going to see?”

  She looked at him, her brow pulled together.

  “On this drive,” he clarified.

  “Um…highway? Some farms? Lots of other cars?”

  He stared at her with an amused expression until she said, “I don’t think I understand the question.”

  “Aren’t we making any stops to sightsee?”

  “No.”

  “None?” he asked with a combination of surprise and disappointment. “That seems like a waste. There’s some cool shit on this drive.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, and Chase turned further in his seat to face her. “What about Assateague Island? Or we could stop in Atlantic City for a few hours. Or actually, you know where I’ve always wanted to go? Tybee Island. There’s supposedly this kickass lighthouse there…some great photo ops.” He waited for a response.

  She gave him none.

  “Or,” he said slowly, “we could make a stop at Crystal River. I hear they have the largest population of manatees in the country.”

  She turned to face him then, looking at him as though he had lost his mind, and he pressed his lips together to fight his smile. “I mean, if that’s more your thing.”

  “We’re not stopping to sightsee,” she said matter-of-factly as she turned back to the road.

  “Why not? That’s what a road trip is all about.”

  “Because we’re not on a road trip. The wedding is on Friday. If we follow my original plan, we’ll stop somewhere in South Carolina tonight and get down to Tampa sometime tomorrow afternoon. It’s timed perfectly. I didn’t account for any stops at tourist attractions.”

  Chase turned in his seat, his expression thoughtful. “Or,” he said after a minute, and Andie glanced over at him, “we could not stop to sleep and use those extra hours to see some cool shit instead.”

  “Drive on no sleep? Yeah, that sounds like a brilliant plan.”

  “No, of course we’d have to sleep,” he said. “We’d just switch. You could sleep, and I could drive—”

  “No,” she said smoothly before he even finished his explanation.

  “No?” Chase echoed. “Why not? You don’t trust me with your car? Not for nothing, but this is a Prius, not a Porsche.”

  “That’s not the point,” Andie said. “I just…I don’t let anyone drive my car.”

  “You’ve got some serious control issues,” Chase said, the words out of his mouth before he could think better of them.

  “Excuse me?” Andie said. “You don’t even know me. So don’t—”

  “You’re right, I don’t know you,” he said, cutting her off, his own voice rising in spite of himself. “All I know about you is what you’re showing me. And right now, with the way you’re acting? With your rigid driving plan, and your ‘nobody drives but me’ nonsense? What you’re showing me is that you have control issues. Hardcore, grade A, first-rate control issues.”

  Andie whipped her head toward him, her eyes blazing, and he met her stare. She turned away first, swatting off the radio and bringing both hands to the steering wheel, and he leaned back in his seat, a smug smile curving his lips over the fact that she had turned away first. Sure, he realized that she needed to keep her eyes on the road, but fuck it, he wanted to celebrate it as a victory.

  They drove the next half hour in complete silence. Andie didn’t turn the radio back on, and every now and then, Chase would glance at her hands on the steering wheel; they were immobile, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel at ten and two.

  This would be impossible, he realized, trying to keep this drive amiable. She got fired up too easily, and if he were being honest, he enjoyed the reaction too much. It was a bad combination. And he wasn’t about to put on some act for the next two days just because this girl was overly uptight. They’d both be better off if he just kept his mouth shut; she obviously wasn’t dying for company, and he didn’t mind spending the next two days in thoughtful silence.

  He rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes, inhaling slowly.

  At that moment, without his sense of sight, her scent consumed him, and he exhaled with a soft, contented hum in the back of his throat. His eyes flipped open, startled by his visceral reaction to the way she smelled; it wasn’t like any perfume he knew. Not pungent, not fake.

  Natural. Understated.

  Sweet, but not fruity. Feminine, but not floral. He had no idea how to describe it. What he did know was that it gave him the strangest feeling in his stomach, one that was as pleasant as it was completely wrong.

  He looked over at her, hoping she hadn’t heard him, that she wasn’t aware of his reaction to her. By that time, her posture had relaxed some, her fingers loosely curled around the steering wheel. He dropped his gaze to her leg, her left knee bouncing slightly, as if she were keeping the beat to some private tune in her mind.

  Of their own accord, his eyes began to travel up her body, over the fitted white tank that hugged the flat plane of her stomach, the swell of her breasts. He lifted his eyes to her profile, her delicate, sloping nose, her pouty mouth. At that moment her lips parted, the tip of her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip, and he swallowed hard just as she slammed on the brake, catapulting them into the restraint of their seat belts and yanking him from his culpable reverie.

  “Jesus Christ!” she shouted. “You jackass!”

  By now Chase’s eyes were safely back on the road, staring at the taillights of the car that had just cut Andie off.

  She exhaled heavily, leaning back into her seat. “Sorry,” she said softly.

  “It’s okay,” he said, somewhat unsettled, but not at all from the near collision.

  After a minute, Andie laughed humorlessly. “Unbelievable,” she said, gesturing at the windshield. “Why does someone become a daredevil just long enough to cut you off, but then proceed to drive like someone’s ninety-year-old grandmother as soon as they’re in front of you?”

  “Are you telling me you didn’t factor shitty drivers into your travel plans?”

  She pursed her lips at that, keeping her eyes on the road, and he smiled.

  “When someone drives like that in front of me, you know what I usually think about that makes me feel better?”

  Andie glanced over at him. “Do I want to know the answer to this question?” she asked, and he laughed.

  “Think about it this way. What if this person never came out in front of you, never forced you to slow down, and you took an upcoming curve too fast and went flying off the road? Or what if your original travel speed put you in an intersection at the exact moment a truck ran a red light? Or when a little kid forgot to look both ways before crossing the road on his bike?”

  Andie looked over at him, her expression taken aback.

  “Maybe something bad would have happened if this guy didn’t slow you down when he did. Maybe this is your guardian angel, looking out for you.”

  She stared at him for another second before she blinked quickly, bringing her eyes back to the road.

  Chase kept his eyes on her for a moment before he sat back in his seat, turning his head to look out the passenger window. He really did like to believe what he had just told her; in fact, at times it was the only thing that kept him from ramming into the jack-off in front of him. But he had no idea why he had just shared that with her.

  Another silence filled the space between them, and he turned to look at her, the oddest feeling coming over him as something like triumph swirled in his stomach.

  Because this time, as he studied her profile, there was a tiny crescent-shaped crease at the corner of her mouth.

  The faintest hint of a smile.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Andie sat in
the driver’s seat with the windows down, a gentle breeze playing with the tendrils of hair that had worked themselves free from her ponytail. She held a pretzel to her lips, nibbling on the edge of it, her eyes combing the area and finding no trace of him.

  She had never been to Richmond, Virginia before, but to her it looked like any other place. Certainly, the rest stop where they had chosen to grab snacks and use the bathroom wasn’t anything extraordinary, so she had no idea what he was taking pictures of. But as soon as they got back to the car with their food, he reached in and grabbed his camera, telling her he’d be back in a few minutes.

  Andie rested her head back against the seat and glanced at the clock. It was just after two; they were making good time, she thought, surprised by the fact that eight hours had passed since they started the drive that morning.

  Much to her amazement, it had gone by pretty quickly.

  After the first hour, which was admittedly one of the most awkward and tense hours of her life, something had changed. That comment he made, the one about her guardian angel looking out for her, struck a nerve; she would have never expected something like that to come out of his mouth, something so optimistic, so…sweet.

  And maybe it was because she acknowledged that side of him that the next seven hours were an improvement; they alternated between lulls of silence, where they’d listen to music or take in their surroundings, and little bouts of conversation. Their exchanges were very basic, all superficial, surface-type things, but still, he hadn’t said anything truly offensive since then, and not once did she feel her defenses fly up. The whole thing was—dare she use the word—bearable.

  Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she lifted her eyes to see Chase walking back toward the car. His eyes were downcast as he pressed a few buttons, scanning the images in his camera with his brow furrowed in concentration. He lifted his hand, swiping the hair out of his eyes, and just before he reached the car, he looked up. For the first time, perhaps because of the way the sun hit them, or perhaps because she was looking at him with something other than contempt, she noticed what a pretty shade of green they were.

  “Hey, sorry I took so long,” he said, sliding back into the car and turning to put the camera in the backseat.

  “No, it’s fine,” Andie said, watching him stretch over the seat as she started the car. She found herself looking around as they pulled back onto the road, still wondering what he saw as a photographic opportunity at this place. “So, did you get any good shots?”

  Chase shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, leaning his arm on the open window and extending his hand outside, allowing it to undulate as he played with the wind. “I never know if I’ve gotten anything good until a few days later. I have to remove myself from the situation first.”

  “Remove yourself from the situation?”

  “Yeah. Right now I’m still seeing those things the way I saw them with my eyes, and those images get all mixed up with the pictures when I look at them.”

  Andie pulled her brow together, and she heard him chuckle softly next to her.

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s just easier for me to evaluate something when I’m looking at it objectively. Right now, it’s too soon for me to do that.”

  Andie nodded. “No, I think I get it,” she said, and he smiled over at her before turning his attention back to his hand, riding the breeze outside like a roller coaster.

  She did understand what he meant; she felt that way sometimes about her writing. There were times when she just had to walk away, to leave it for a few hours, or sometimes a few days, before she could go back to it and see if it were any good. When she was in the midst of it, she was too close to it to make any kind of rational decision.

  Andie hit the button on the steering wheel to turn on the radio, and they fell back into one of their stretches of silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Every now and then, she would glance over, watching his hand out the window rise and fall on the wind as it kept tune to the music, and she couldn’t help but smile at the childlike gesture.

  As she turned her eyes back to the road, a woman standing on the shoulder caught her attention. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was somewhat disheveled, pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and as she heard Andie’s car approaching, she turned quickly and extended her arm, her thumb up in the air and a hopeful expression in her eyes.

  As Andie sped past her, she lifted her eyes to the rearview, watching the woman drop her arm back to her side and shove her hands in her pockets as she continued walking up the side of the highway.

  Andie chewed on her lower lip, looking back to the rearview every few seconds, watching the woman get smaller and smaller until she finally disappeared.

  “You know what I think is really sad?” she said.

  Chase turned his head to look at her.

  “That we live in a world where you have to be afraid to help people.”

  He barked a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”

  “That woman,” Andie said, looking in her rearview even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. “The one who was hitchhiking. I mean, you’d have to be crazy to stop and pick up a hitchhiker. That’s just asking for trouble. But at the same time, that poor lady could be out there for hours. And what if she’s just a normal person, not a thief or a killer, just someone who needs help? No one in his right mind would stop to pick her up. And if someone did stop, then she would have to be concerned for her own safety, because what kind of lunatic would let a complete stranger who could very well be crazy into his car? How could she be sure he wouldn’t pick her up just to take her into the woods somewhere and kill her? So not only do we have to be afraid to help people, but we also have to be afraid of people who want to help us. I just think that’s really sad.”

  She took a small breath, looking over at him. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly. “Wow,” he said, a smile curving his lips, “that was quite a rant.”

  She bit her lip and shrugged. “But…do you know what I mean?” she asked softly, feeling a little embarrassed that she had just vented so openly.

  His smile grew a bit more pronounced as he turned in his seat to face her. “You know something? I’ve never met anyone who lives as cautiously as you do. So by the book,” he said, using finger quotes. “Do you always play by the rules?”

  She pressed her lips together, turning back toward the road as the familiar irritation crept its way up her spine. She knew it was too good to be true, the temporary ceasefire that had miraculously developed between them this afternoon.

  Chase turned forward in his seat, clasping his hands behind his head. “You know what I think is sad?”

  Andie kept her mouth closed, afraid of what he would say next. She didn’t want to go back to the way things were that morning. In fact, she just wished she hadn’t said anything at all.

  “I think it’s sad that we’ll never know her,” Chase said.

  She glanced over at him suspiciously.

  “Think of how many people there are in the world that you’ll never know. Like that guy right there,” he said, nodding toward the car that whizzed by them. “What’s that guy’s name? Where’s he going? Is he happy with his life? Did he want Bella to end up with Edward or Jacob?”

  Andie’s lips twitched as Chase brought one of his hands down from behind his head. “Or how about the guy you bought the pretzels from,” he said, gesturing toward the bag on Andie’s lap. “That’s the last you’ll ever see of that guy in your life. That was the sole experience you were meant to have with that man. Your paths will never cross again. And he could be the coolest guy in the world,” Chase added, holding his hands up in shrug, “but you’ll never know him.”

  Andie sat quietly, unsure of whether or not this was something he actually thought about, or if he was just trying his hand at a nonsensical rant to poke fun at her.

  “Or,” Chase sighed, interrupting her th
oughts, “maybe he’s the world’s biggest douchebag, in which case you’re better off.”

  A laugh bubbled out of Andie’s throat, and she pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle it as she looked over at him. A slow grin spread over his face, and she smiled as she brought her hand back to the wheel and shook her head.

  Andie saw him shift to face her out of the corner of her eye. “Here, you know what? Let’s clear both our consciences. That lady, that hitchhiker…she’s an aspiring actress.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked, surprised.

  He shook his head. “Roll with me. She’s an aspiring actress. She was on her way to an audition, and her car crapped out on her.”

  Andie looked at him for a second before she realized what he wanted her to do. “Okay,” she said before she brought her eyes back to the road. “Um…she works as a waitress to support herself, and if she doesn’t get this part, she won’t have the money to get her car fixed.”

  Chase nodded sadly, as if they were speaking about someone they knew. “Sucks,” he said. “And she practiced for that role for weeks. It was perfect for her.”

  “But she can still get there,” Andie added hopefully. “She can call a cab.”

  “Hmm, she could,” Chase said, “if her cell phone was getting a signal. Which it isn’t.”

  “Well then, she just has to keep walking until she gets service.”

  “Which is exactly what she’s doing when a car pulls up behind her.”

  Andie looked at Chase, her expression uneasy, and he nodded. “Yep. The car pulls up behind her, and the guy inside wants to help. So she has to make a choice: she can say no and keep walking, and hope she’ll get service soon so she can call that cab, or she can let this guy help her.”

  Andie chewed anxiously on her lip. “Yeah, but you know what?” she finally said. “The guy has two little girls in the car. Twins. And they’re calling him Uncle Bobby. And one of them is asking him why they’re stopping because they were supposed to get ice-cream cones.” Andie paused before she glanced at Chase. “Killers don’t take their nieces to get ice-cream cones.”