Ella's Stormy Summer Break (Ella and Ethan Book 2)

by Amy Sparling

  I watch the blue truck’s headlights get smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror. I don’t pass any more stores or landmarks, and we really are way out in the country right now. West Texas is pretty much nothing, which is crazy since Houston is such a huge city filled with so many people. Here I am in the same state, and I could scream bloody murder and no one would know.

  My throat feels dry as the miles pass. I’m cruising at seventy-five, which is almost double the speed limit, and I still haven’t found Ethan’s truck yet. I haven’t passed a single intersection or road that wasn’t a driveway to a farm. He couldn’t have gone anywhere else.

  An hour passes.

  I still have no phone signal.

  I still have no Ethan.

  A yellow street sign catches my attention up ahead. It’s a triangle warning sign. I take my foot off the gas and let the car slow down enough so I can read it.

  WARNING

  ROAD ENDS

  PRIVATE PROPERTY

  What the hell? Sure enough, the asphalt fades away into gravel, and the road just comes to a stop up ahead. There’s a large metal gate blocking the driveway. So this is the end of a county road.

  Dammit.

  I pull into the grass and turn my car around. If I only had some freaking cell phone signal, I could look up the GPS. Maybe if this car wasn’t so old, it could have built in GPS like Ethan’s truck does.

  I curse under my breath and try to let myself get angry, because if I’m not angry, I’m scared. I’ve never been this lost before. Never been so far away from home with no way of contacting the world. Tears spring to my eyes, but I push them back.

  My phone beeps. Oh, thank God. My phone!

  I put the car in park and grab for my phone, relief swelling up in my chest. Only, it’s not a message from Ethan. It’s from Mom.

  I’m happy to have it, but, I need to talk to Ethan.

  I read her message.

  Mom: I don’t know if you’ll get this. My calls aren’t going through. On the news they said too many people are using cell phones so the towers are all jammed. Call me when you can. Love you!

  I breathe in deeply and let it out. I text her back, and it looks like it goes through. My phone has one tiny bar of signal out of the five bars it usually has. I call Ethan a dozen times, but it never even rings. It just locks up and doesn’t work. I send him several texts. Some of them go through and some give me an error message.

  At some point I look up and realize I’m parked on the side of the loneliest road in the world, and it’s so dark I can’t see over my headlights, and it’s actually kind of terrifying. I crank the engine and turn the car around, then try calling Ethan again. The call doesn’t connect.

  A tear rolls down my cheek. I get the sudden urge to throw my phone as far as I can, but I hold back. Now, fear and anxiety are latching onto me, and all I want is to be in the light. Somewhere public.

  I speed away from the metal gate, going back the way I came. I go even faster this time, and I make it back to the McDonald’s in just under an hour. It’s still closed, and it’s now just after midnight, but the streetlight is on. I feel somewhat safer here.

  I turn off the road and park in front of the McDonald’s. Then, I get a creepy vibe from being parked here like a sitting duck, so I move my car and park on the side of the building in the dark, away from the single street lamp. The dark is usually scary, but here I can’t be seen.

  I hold my phone in every possible direction, but I can’t get a signal again. I try not to yawn, but it doesn’t work. My eyes feel heavy, and my thoughts are scattered and in desperate need of a break. I stare up at the fast food joint in front of me and long for a cheeseburger so bad it makes my stomach growl.

  I tell myself I will not cry.

  It doesn’t work.

  Chapter 8

  Just after midnight, I start to feel the repercussions of staying up too late last night. Of course, I hadn’t known I’d be evacuating my freaking town today, or maybe I would have gone to bed earlier. I yawn for the hundredth time and glance in my rearview mirror at Ella. She’s not keeping as closely behind me as she was before, and all I can see are her headlights. I wish I could call her, but every time I try the phone doesn’t connect. Of course, way out here in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly the best place to get cell reception.

  After another annoying yawn, I shake my head and smack my cheeks to wake myself up. That’s what they do on the movies, but trust me—hitting yourself like an idiot doesn’t make you wake up. It just makes you annoyed. I’ve gone through three sodas from my ice chest since we left the house and now I’ve got to piss. It’s been ages since I passed any sort of civilization, and I look around now to confirm that no one will see me if I pull over on the side of the road to take a leak. There’s nothing out here, just darkness and land as far as you can see.

  This old county road is proof that no one ever comes out here because the pavement is broken and choppy and hasn’t been redone in ages, if ever. I put on my signal and slow down, then pull over on the side of the road. Out here, there’s no paved shoulder or anything, so I’m on the grass. I hope nothing sharp waits in the grass to puncture a tire. I don’t have the time or energy to be putting on the spare.

  I put the truck in park and go to open my door, but startle as a car blows past me. Why the hell wouldn’t Ella stop? Maybe she’s stopping in front of me?

  I squint as I study the back of the car that just passed me, and my veins run cold. It’s a freaking Kia. A Kia! That’s not Ella’s Corolla. This whole time, the wrong car was right behind me.

  I stand in the middle of the road, watching and waiting for her headlights. I know she’s not there, but some part of me hopes that I’ll see her car approach any second now, and she’ll laugh and say she got distracted and wasn’t driving fast enough. Or maybe she got a flat tire and had to change it.

  Worry settles into me so much that I forget I have to piss. Finally, I remember, and I walk over into the grass and relieve myself. My heart pounds and there’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Why isn’t she here?

  And who the hell was following me for hours if it wasn’t her? That car took all the same turns I did. Maybe they were just following the same made up route to get the hell out of here.

  I pace the length of my truck while trying to call her, but the stupid phone won’t connect. I send off a bunch of texts and they don’t go through. Dammit.

  I run a hand through my hair and squint my eyes and try to find her headlights in the distance. I try to will her to appear, so that we will be together again and everything will be fine. But she doesn’t show up. I lost her.

  I lost my girlfriend, and a hurricane is coming.

  I kick my truck tire and curse. What the hell do I do now? I’ve made a dozen turns since I last saw her in the daylight when I could clearly see her behind me. She could have taken any of them the wrong direction. She could be anywhere by now.

  I should turn around and retrace my steps. That’s all I can do at this point. That, and keep trying to call her on my worthless cell phone. Why do they charge nine hundred dollars for these things if they aren’t going to connect to your loved ones in an emergency? Dammit.

  I’m fully awake now as I turn around and speed back down the way I came. My eyes are wide open and I’m scanning the road, hoping to find her. Terrible thoughts race through my mind, like maybe her car broke down and someone kidnapped her.

  I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to her. My throat is dry and I crack open another soda can. I make a turn, and then another, and then I’m back in the small town I drove through an hour ago. The street sign says it has a population of seventy two people. There are a few cars at the only gas station in town. My whole body feels like it’s on fire as I pull into the parking lot and study the cars. Please, please, be Ella.

  There are four cars here, and none of them are hers. My heart aches as I throw the truck in park. I’m trying like hell to be okay, bu
t I’m so worried about her.

  I tell myself she’s strong and smart and she’ll be okay. She probably realized she lost me hours ago and then found a map herself. Maybe she’s even at the hotel by now. I take a deep breath and jump out of my truck.

  The gas station is open and a few people are mulling around outside. One cowboy-looking guy is smoking a cigar and a lady is leaning inside her car, laying out blankets on the backseat for her two kids. She tells them they’re gonna have to get used to sleeping next to each other in the small backseat and to stop whining.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the cowboy. “Have you seen a Toyota Corolla? The driver is a teenage girl, dark brown hair.”

  The man blows out a puff of cigar smoke to the right. “Sorry man, I haven’t seen her.”

  I curse under my breath. “She was following me an hour ago and now she’s gone. I think we got separated when we hit some traffic.”

  I take out my phone and try to call her, but of course it doesn’t work.

  “Where you from?” the man asks. I notice that his plaid pearl snap shirt has the gas station’s logo embroidered on the chest. He must work here.

  “Hockley,” I say, hooking my thumb toward the south. “We’re evacuating for the hurricane.”

  He nods, like he expected that. “I’m keeping the store open all night for these folks,” he says, nodding toward the people who are hanging out in their cars. “You’re welcome to sleep here if you need.”

  I sigh. I should sleep, and I need some rest, but I can’t do anything until I find Ella. “Thanks,” I say. “I gotta find my girlfriend though.”

  I hold up my phone again, wishing it would magically get some signal.

  The cowboy snuffs out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. “I got you,” he says. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a thick cell phone. It’s like a brick of plastic with a huge fold out antenna and a digital black and white screen.

  “Sat phone,” he says, holding it out to me. “It’s for emergency personnel and it’ll kick off other people who are clogging the signal so you can call someone in an emergency. Call your girlfriend.”

  My eyes widen. “Am I allowed to use this?”

  He shrugs. “Seems like an emergency to me.”

  I thank him and dial Ella’s number, feeling hopeful but still pretty pessimistic. But it rings, and then I hear her sweet voice and I can’t believe it worked.

  “Hello?” she says, sounding surprised. No doubt because she doesn’t recognize this number.

  “Ella! It’s me.”

  “Oh my God, Ethan!” Her voice cracks and I can hear her sobs. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. Where are you?”

  She snorts. “I’m also at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. But I don’t see you.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yeah … pretty much. I was alone but then this family with a motorhome arrived and they’re pretty nice. They let me use their restroom and wash my face and they had food, too.”

  “That’s good,” I say, yawning. I guess after the adrenaline of finding her wore off, my body has sunk back into exhausted mode. “Maybe we should get some sleep and find each other in the morning. I don’t want us to pass out while driving.”

  “Yeah…” she says. “That’s a good idea. I’ll sleep in my car. How did you get a hold of me? I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  “Someone let me borrow their sat phone,” I explain. “Try to find out where you are in the morning, like street signs or a town or something, and I’ll call you and then plot out a route so we can find each other.”

  “Sounds good,” she says. “I can’t wait. I hate this.”

  “Me too, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning. I love you.”

  “I love you,” she says with a sigh.

  It’s just after one in the morning, but I call my parents anyway. Mom answers on the first ring, sounding like she’s been staying up to make sure I’m okay. She and Dad arrived at the hotel hours ago. I’m so mad at myself for not leaving at the same time, because then Ella and I wouldn’t be in this mess. I tell my mom we’re fine and promise that we’ll be safe. Then I give the phone back to its owner.

  “You hungry?” he asks as he tucks the phone back into his pocket. He gestures to the small convenient store behind him. “Help yourself to some food. It’s on the house.”

  “Thanks so much,” I say. I have some snacks in my truck, but the store has fresh fruit and I’m craving some of that.

  I also grab a map and find out that I’m in a little down that’s forty five miles away from De Sota. It’d be just over an hours’ drive in normal conditions. There’s still not much traffic on these back roads, so maybe Ella and I can get to the hotel in time for brunch. Then this nightmare will be over.

  The woman with the kids gives me an extra blanket she’d packed when they evacuated their home this morning. I thank her and use it to cuddle up in the back seat of my truck. I’ve made out back here with Ella a few times, but being here alone is not fun. It’s too small and uncomfortable and lonely.

  I lie on my back and look at the stars through the window and think about my girl, who is doing the same thing in her car. I hope she’s safe there. I wish I would have taken her with me.

  I won’t be able to live with myself if anything bad happens to her.

  Chapter 9

  My first thought is, who the hell is texting me this late? My second thought is, why the hell am I sleeping in my car?

  It’s funny how your brain data dumps everything when you fall asleep, and you’ll wake up all groggy and normal for a second. Then you realize you’re not at home in your bed, but sleeping uncomfortably in your car in the literal middle of nowhere.

  I yawn and stretch my limbs as best as I can back here in the cramped space. Then I grab my phone. There’s one teensy little bar of signal, and I’ve had that for a while now, but my texts still didn’t work. Now I see Ethan’s name on my phone and my heart does a little flutter. That’s what woke me up just now, the sound of his text.

  Ethan: Can’t sleep. You awake?

  Ethan: Also… is this working?

  I grin and sit up, checking the time. It’s just after four in the morning. I have other texts, too. Some from April, a couple friends who were bummed about the party cancellation, and one from my mom that just says she loves me and hopes I’m safe but that she won’t keep clogging the phone lines with texts.

  I go to reply and then recoil at the disgusting shape of my left hand. It hurts, I know that much, but I’m not sure why. I turn the flashlight on my phone and aim it toward my hand. The entire top of my hand is swollen, itchy and purple. There’s two tiny little red dots that looks like some type of bite from an insect. Holy crap. My hand looks like a rubber glove that’s been filled with water.

  I poke at the swollen part and it hurts. It’s not terrible, but like muscle soreness and a huge bruise all rolled into one. I sit up and shine the light on my phone all over the backseat, looking for whatever did this to me. But it’s long gone.

  I had to sleep with my car’s windows cracked a few inches to keep it from getting too hot in here. Something must have flown in and stung me. Luckily, I’m not allergic to bees or anything, but wow.

  My hand hurts like hell. The more awake I feel, the worse my hand is. I touch all over the rest of my body to confirm that I’m not covered in huge purple swollen bites, but this is the only one. I examine the holes closely, but there doesn’t appear to be any kind of stinger I should pull out. Whatever happened, I have to just wait for it to heal now.

  I turn off the flashlight on my phone and climb out of the backseat, then sit back up in the driver’s seat where it’s more comfortable. Remembering my text from Ethan, I look back at my phone, relieved to see that it still has signal. I wonder if phones are working now because most people are asleep and aren’t over-working the cell phone towers. I take my chances and c
all Ethan. The phone rings, and the sound is like a glorious tune straight from the heavens.

  “Hello?” Ethan says, sounding just as excited as I am.

  “The phone works!”

  “Finally. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

  Technically, he did, but I’m grateful for the lack of sleep if it means talking to my boyfriend instead of being so very alone. I tell him no. “You’ll never believe what happened to me,” I say. Then I tell him about my hand as I hold it up over the steering wheel to look at it in the soft glow of the nearby street light.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan asks.

  I shrug. “I guess? I mean, it’s not like taking over my whole body or anything.”

  Ethan groans. “I wish I was there with you. No, I wish you were here with me. I wish we were at the damn hotel right now. This is a nightmare.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, trying to comfort him. I can hear the stress in his voice, and although my hand is hurting pretty bad, I don’t want him to worry. Then I get an idea. “So if you’re awake and I’m awake … Why don’t we hit the road now?”

  “You want to?” Ethan’s voice is quite a bit happier now. “That’s kind of a great idea. I don’t feel like I could sleep anymore right now. I’m just ready to be in De Sota.”

  I nod eagerly. Behind me, that nice family I met with the RV is still parked, their generator humming softly. But there’s not another person in sight. I bet the roads are clear too. “What better time to drive than when everyone else is gone?” I say.

  “Perfect,” Ethan says. “First we have to figure out where you are.”

  With another stroke of luck, my phone is able to load Google Maps. But, with a stroke of particularly bad luck to balance it out, Ethan and I are able to figure out exactly where we are.

  Sixty five miles away from each other.

  And Ethan himself is only forty miles from the hotel. I’m the one who accidentally took a wrong road at some point and have been driving west instead of north. I’m so freaking embarrassed, but Ethan stays calm and tells me it’ll be okay. Together, we look on Google maps on our respective phones and work out a route for us to meet up with each other. I tell him he should go back to sleep and I’ll come to him, but he hates the thought of me being alone and wants to find me as soon as possible so we can drive together again.