by Amy Richie
***
The bed wasn't much more comfortable than the one I slept in at Nine Crosses. This one was a little bigger though. Peeling the mud caked pants off, I crawled under the still chilly sheets.
Between the sedatives they'd given me, the adrenalin of escaping, and then running behind Toby for three hours; I was suddenly more tired than I'd ever been. I stretched my bare toes out under the blanket and arched my back in a long needed stretch. A hot shower would have been nice, but I was too tired. Besides, I wasn't sure if I had time.
Toby sat in the only chair in the room, pressed flush against the wall facing the windows. His thumb traced the lines of his jaw and up his chin, then back to the other side. His knee bobbed frantically.
My eyelids fluttered closed, then back open again. If only Toby would calm down, maybe I could fall asleep. Seeing him awake and alert made me afraid to close my eyes for too long. What if he bolted while I was asleep?
“What would happen to me if they caught me?”
“They will kill you,” he replied without hesitation.
“I meant the police,” I muttered, “or the nurses. Whatever.” I doubted if it would be legal for them to kill me for escaping.
His eyebrows knitted darkly. “The nurses aren't going to come looking for you.”
I widened my eyes in his direction, but resisted sticking my tongue out. “The police might.”
“I liked you better when you didn't talk.”
“You've always hated me, even when I didn't say anything.” It was a baby thing to say, a plea for his affection; I realized how it would sound to him as soon as the words were out and his eyes narrowed. “I just meant...”
“I know what you meant.” He leaned back as far as the seat would allow, crossing his arms lightly over his chest.
For the first time in my life, I wondered what it would feel like to touch Toby. Would my hands go through him? Would I feel the same heat I felt back in the bathroom at Nine Crosses? My face flamed hot at the memory.
“This isn't some cozy road trip, Crazy,” he suddenly sat up straighter. “I'm never going to like you.”
“I don't expect you to.” I tried not to stutter and in my haste, my jaw snapped shut.
“That's good,” he sneered. “Don't ever have expectations; that way you won't be disappointed.”
To avoid looking at him, I snatched up the bus schedule on the table beside me. “Where are we heading anyways?” I peeked over the top of the page at an empty chair. “Toby?”
No answer.
I let out my raspy breath I had been trying to hold. He had left me alone. What was I supposed to do now?
Sleep, a corner of my tired mind suggested. I was exhausted enough to fall asleep, but my thoughts wouldn't stop chasing each other behind my half closed lids.
What was going to happen to me now? I had just run off into the night with a guy I didn't even like very much; and he liked me even less. And why? Because of a dream I'd had. What was wrong with me?
I pulled my knees close to my chest under the blanket and turned to my side, letting the bus schedule fall to the floor. My eyelids drifted closed, my body finally taking over my thoughts. Well, I mentally shrugged, the faster morning would get here and we could be on our way. I sighed lightly into the strange pillow.