Open Lanes

by Mary Morano

  In an effort to distract myself, I focused on the fact that if I did disappear, they will blame Señor Prick, since he was the last person anyone saw me with. Then he would have to spend the rest of his life in jail thinking about how he could have saved my life. That was the least he deserved if I died right now. I’d be dead and eaten, what did I care if he was wrongly accused? I’m not bitter or anything.

  The sounds of the car grew closer, and I heard the beat of the music playing from inside. I started walking faster, not paying attention to the fact that my suitcase was like a big yellow flag screaming ‘look at me.’ I heard the car tires hit the gravel behind me, as it pulled to the side and slowed down. It was close—too close for comfort if I had to be honest. This wasn’t looking good. I hope they at least put a good picture of me on the missing person posters, not my god-awful high school graduation picture like they tended to use on those things. The profile picture on my Instagram would be my first choice, I hope someone suggests that to them. I heard the car stop, and the window squeak as it rolled down, before a deep voice called out.

  “Hey, do you need some help?”

  I kept walking, not wanting to make it easier than it would already be for him to kill me. I really hoped he wasn’t a sadist, choosing to prolong my death by torturing me and hope he just kills me quickly. I really didn’t think I could survive torture, even papercuts made me cry. I kept walking, picking up the pace once more so I was practically running away. Behind me I heard the dinging sound a car makes when the door is opened, and the car is still running. Great, he was getting out. Now he was going to chase me. Yes, I kept myself in shape, but to be honest, the only running I ever did was when I was late for class, and that usually ended with me being bent over wheezing. My situation was quickly going from bad to worse.

  “Hey, I know you can hear me. I won’t hurt you; I just don’t feel comfortable leaving a female on the side of the road. Can I give you a ride somewhere?” The voice behind me asked. I snorted at his statement before yelling back over my shoulder.

  “I’m pretty sure all serial killers want you to believe they won’t hurt you. Then they chop you up and leave you in the mountains for bears to eat. No, thank you, I don’t plan on being bear food today!”

  Suddenly, a deep laugh rang out behind me. I stopped, was he laughing at me? What kind of serial killer did that? Isn’t he supposed to be chasing me? Maybe he doesn’t want to exert the energy yet to chase me? Or maybe this is all part of his sick twisted game. His laughter continued behind me as my annoyance ticked up a notch. What. The. Hell. Hands on my hips, I spun around to tell him off, only to stare into a very familiar, and very unwelcome face.

  Casually standing in front of me, with his thumbs hooked in his jean pockets as he relaxed back against the hood of his black SUV was none other than Brayden Montgomery. Fucking Brayden. Anger flooded my veins. Of course, it would be him who witnessed my humiliation. He had a knack for being around for those moments. Brayden and I had grown up together, our parents, best friends from high school, had bought houses on the same block and forced us on each other every chance they got. They had dreams of a marriage and shared grandchildren from the moment we were born. Unfortunately for them, Brayden was a jerk and that would never happen.

  Don’t get me wrong, he was probably the sexiest man I had ever laid my eyes on with his clover green eyes, and sandy blond hair that always had that just woke up look to it. His body was that of a typical hockey player, strong, sexy, and delicious with thighs and an ass that could make any pair of pants look good. Perhaps if he got a personality transplant, he would be a catch. Brayden had literally tortured me every day from middle school through high school. It sucked because before that, he had been my best friend. Then we hit puberty and popularity became a thing. He easily slid into the popular group, and I didn’t. Somewhere along the way I became the focus of all his attention, and not in a good way. He made my life miserable. In the seventh grade he cut off half of my ponytail in science class. In the eighth grade he told all his friends that I ate onions everyday so no one would want to kiss me. In high school, he told all the guys that I was a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I’m not. However, that plan backfired on him, as all the guys then wanted to know if I was interested in a threesome. Yeah, fun times.

  Senior year, I thought the light at the end of the tunnel was finally in sight, I was finally getting away from him. I had already committed to Monroe University, a school just off Moosehead Lake in Maine, on an early admissions decision, when I found out he had been recruited and signed with their hockey team. Just my freaking luck. Our parents, of course, were thrilled, me not so much. All I wanted to do was go away and live my own life without him constantly stuffed down my throat day in and day out. Thankfully, the campus was huge, and we had barely even seen each other over the last two years, except for a few parties where we avoided each other in some unspoken agreement. I guess I really shouldn’t be shocked that the Universe once again threw us together, at least he was better than a serial killer. Maybe.

  “Are you planning to walk all the way to Florida?” He asked as he tried to hold his laughter in.

  “Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?” I ask him, before turning on my heels and resuming my walk down the highway.

  “Wait… Nic… seriously… hold up a sec.” He shouted to me as he jogged up to stand in front of me, blocking my path. “Where are you going, and why are you walking down an empty highway?”

  “Leave me alone, Bray. Just let me continue on my way, and pretend you never saw me.” I told him, before trying to go around him. He used his mammoth-sized body and sidestepped over, blocking my way again.

  “Come on, Nic. You know I can’t do that. Just get in the car, I’ll take you where you need to go, okay? I’m not leaving you here on the side of the road, where the next car that comes along could be the serial killer you were so concerned about before.” A shiver ran down my spine at the reminder. I looked back over my shoulder at his still running SUV, which had the driver side door wide open, and then back to the exit sign that still seemed to be miles away. Pulling out my phone in one last ditch effort, I sighed when I saw it still had no service. Damn, he was right. I couldn’t stay here, and while he wasn’t the best option, he also wasn’t the worst either.

  “Fine. I guess, I don’t really have a choice. I need a ride to the airport, please.” I said with a huff, as I turned to walk toward his car, still dragging my suitcase behind me. He grabbed it out of my hands and lifted it up onto his shoulder with no effort at all despite its weight. Before I could even protest, he was walking away with it. With a roll of my eyes, I followed along, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up while he put my suitcase in the trunk before joining me in the car.

  As soon as we shut the doors, I was hit in the face with a putrid smell. My nose crinkled, eyes watered, as I started gagging while rolling down my window to get fresh air.

  “Ugh! What is that smell? It smells like something died in here!”

  “Uh, sorry? That’s my hockey equipment. It gets kind of ripe, especially since Mom hasn’t been around to clean it all season. I’ve been using Febreze on it, but it’s not really working anymore.” He tells me as a hint of red colors his face showing his embarrassment.

  Trying not to further embarrass him, and get myself kicked out of a second car, I just nod and turn my head to the window, allowing the fresh air to blow directly into my face. He pulls off the shoulder and continues down the highway, with the music playing softly in the background. I shut my eyes and lay my head back, hoping this forty-five-minute ride to the airport wouldn’t be too bad. I really should ask where he was going, and why he was willing to drive me so far out of his way, but honestly, I didn’t care that much. I was physically exhausted from the early morning wake up and my stroll down the highway. I just wanted to get somewhere I could take a nap before I figured out how to get myself home.

  “What time
is your flight?” His rough voice breaks through my thoughts, and my eyes pop open. I glance at the clock on his dashboard, which says 8:18 before responding.

  “Let’s see, it took off about 18 minutes ago.” I tell him, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him glance toward me before focusing his eyes back on the road.

  “Then why am I taking you to the airport?”

  “So, I can be there when the next flight with an available seat takes off.” I tell him with a duh tone to my voice.

  “You know that they only fly toward our house once a day, right? And those flights are usually booked weeks in advance.” He says with his usual know it all tone.

  “Whatever, I’ll fly standby, or find a bus, or something. Once I get there, I’ll figure it out.”

  He looks over at me again, before shaking his head. “So why exactly were you walking up the side of the highway? Wouldn’t it have been easier to call an Uber from campus?”

  I glare at him, hoping he feels the lasers that I wish were shooting out of my eyes right now burning his gorgeous face.

  “Obviously, I didn’t try to walk to the airport! I had a ride! Or at least I thought I did. El Dickhead, also known as my ex, as of about an hour ago, was driving me. However, when he found out that I wanted to take some time apart over the summer, he left me on the damn side of the road with my suitcase.” He doesn’t respond, just nods and tightens his hands on the steering wheel before reaching over to make the music a little louder. Thank God, at least I won’t have to talk to him for the rest of the ride. I can just get to the airport, say thanks and go on my merry way. I lean my head back again, closing my eyes, hoping to get a catnap in before we get to the airport.

  What seems like only seconds later, I blink my eyes open, then close them quickly as the glare from the sun blinds me. Slowly my surroundings come to me, the quiet background noise of a radio playing, wind brushing against my face, the putrid smell of Brayden’s hockey equipment. Brayden’s hockey equipment? WTF? My eyes fly open as the morning's events come back to me. Ugh, it wasn’t a nightmare, this is my reality, I was really in his car. Hopefully, we were almost at the airport. I look around for any familiar sights but find nothing, but open roads surrounded by trees on either side of us. I look toward the clock and my eyes bug out when it reads 11:29. I pop forward in my seat, causing Brayden to look over, a huge smile splitting his face.

  “Oh, good, you’re finally up! I’m starving but I was trying to wait for you to wake up before we got something to eat.” He says it like we are friends out for a fun day and he’s not someone who kept me captive in his car for the last three hours. God only knew where we were right now. Maybe I should have tried my chances on the side of the road.

  “Where are we? Why aren’t we at the airport? Where have you been driving for the last few hours?” I ask him in rapid fire way. He chuckles. Chuckles! Like I had said something funny, which I didn’t.

  “Calm down, Nic. We are taking a road trip.”

  “What? A road trip where? What are you even talking about right now?” I ask him while trying to figure out, once again, where we are. It appeared to be somewhere in New Hampshire, if his GPS was right. He kidnapped me and brought me over state lines, this was a serious offense, right?

  “Relax.” He tells me again.

  “You know telling someone to relax usually accomplishes the opposite of that right?” I snarl at him. The jerk has the nerve to laugh again.

  “Okay, so don’t relax, but don’t worry. I talked to your parents and we’re all good.”

  “You talked to my parents? What? WHY?”

  “After you fell asleep, I called them. I told them you missed your flight and would be keeping me company on the drive down. I told them it was pretty considerate of you since everyone was so concerned about me driving all the way from Maine to Florida by myself.” My head snaps toward him, his face is filled with a proud looking smile, knowing he has me trapped. There was officially no way out of this. If I tried to bail, I looked like the bad guy. He had played me, once again. Now I was stuck in the car with him for… a quick glance at the GPS had me needing to take a deep breath in to calm myself, 23 hours and 53 minutes. I really should have taken my chances with the serial killer. Well, at least I knew he wouldn’t leave me on the side of the road somewhere now that our parents were aware I was with him.

  I continue to glare at the side of his face as he pulls off the service center ramp and gets out of the car walking off toward the entrance to a building. Slamming my door behind me, I follow him, stomping along.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I yell at his back. He looks back over his shoulder at me, and my stomach flips. Why was he so damn hot? If he would just keep his mouth shut and sit in the corner, he would be so pretty to look at.

  “Coffee, breakfast, bathroom. In that order.” He says interrupting my thoughts of him tied to my bed naked with a gag.

  Mmm… coffee does sound good, and I could definitely go for a Bacon ’N Egg McMuffin with some hash browns from McDonald’s. Allowing my stomach to lead the way I follow him into the service center and get in line to order breakfast. Once I have my food, I walk into the dining area to sit down at a table and eat. A few minutes later he joins me, sitting across from me. His tray has three breakfast sandwiches and four hash browns. Noticing me staring, he says, “Hockey players eat a lot. We burn a lot of calories, so we gotta eat a lot of them too. Normally, this type of food isn’t on my meal plan, but I’m giving myself a break for a few days.”

  I roll my eyes at him, remembering how strict he had always been about his meal plan. Even when his family came over to BBQ or celebrate holidays, we always had to have healthy protein options for him to eat. Food was one of the best parts of life, so I had no idea why anyone would subject themselves to such torture willingly. Thankfully, that was not something that I had to worry about.

  Somehow, he finished his massive order to fulfil his giant appetite, before I could even finish my breakfast, so he sits there drinking his coffee waiting for me to finish. While I ate, he tells me about his plans for the trip home, what roads we would take, what we would pass, and so on. I am only half paying attention until he says that if all goes according to plan, we will be there by Thursday evening. I nearly choke on my last bite of hash brown before spitting it out into a napkin.

  “Today is only Sunday, what do you mean Thursday night? The GPS says 23 hours!” I nearly scream, drawing the curious attention of a few travelers around us. He tilts his head, staring at me like he is trying to figure something out before he speaks.

  “Yeah… it would be 23 hours, if we drove straight through, I guess. But why would we do that? There are so many different places between here and home. When are we gonna get a chance to see them again? Besides, no one can drive that far without resting.” He explains slowly like I’m a toddler. Panic shoots through me, five days? He wants me to spend five days traveling the country with him. Is he crazy? We don’t even like each other. We haven’t spent five minutes in a room together in years! Now he wants us to spend five days stuck in a car. And where are we going to sleep? I know my mouth is hanging wide open and I am staring at him like he’s crazy, but isn't he? How did he think this was okay? I pull out my phone and start looking up flights from airports close to me. There must be another way home. Frantically, I pull up different airline websites, praying to find a last-minute flight. His chuckling laugh breaks my concentration and I see him looking over my shoulder at my screen. “Honey, you ain’t gonna find a flight. Plus, I already told our parents this was the plan. So, suck it up, and let’s go.”

  With that he turns and walks into the bathroom. I sit there shocked for a few seconds, before realizing he’s right. I have no options, so I better make the best of this one. Quickly I get up and head to the bathroom, knowing that he probably won’t stop for me to go anytime soon if I don’t go now. I take my time washing my hands and fixing myself up in the mirror as best as I can. My shoulder-length bro
wn hair is hanging straight, the caramel highlights giving it a sun-kissed look. My skin looks pale, but there isn't much to do about that when you just spent a long winter in snowy Maine. A week or two back home and the healthy glow of my normal tan skin will do wonders for my complexion. My brown eyes are still slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress, but again, not much I could do about that right now. At least I had on a pair of comfortable boyfriend jeans, my Chucks, and one of my favorite shirts. I collected shirts with funny sayings on them, and today’s said, ‘I don’t have the energy to pretend I like you.’ It was oddly appropriate for the situation. Laughing to myself, I walk out of the bathroom, to find him waiting by the door for me. I follow him out to the car in resigned silence. Sliding in, I remember to hold the door open, waiting for him to start the car so I can roll down the window before closing myself in. I wasn’t stupid, I learned my lessons the first time, hockey funk could kill you.