by Krystal Wade
No matter how I looked at it, running away seemed stupid.
“They won’t see my car if I don’t want them to.”
“You can hardly hide this thing while we’re driving. That would be insane!”
Derick sighed, weaving in between two slow-moving hybrids. “Do you want to go back?”
I thought about his question, about the fact my parents weren’t mine and how they lied to me, about how his parents lied to him. Everyone knew about our truths and wanted something from us. “No.”
“You turn next week. I’m already eighteen. We can get jobs.”
“Jobs? Jobs doing what? And high school dropout doesn’t exactly sit well with me—or any employer.”
“I have enough money to last us at least two years. We can get GEDs—”
“Two years? What did you do, rob your parent’s bank accounts?”
“Robbed my bank accounts. Months ago. So what do you say?” He offered his hand, glancing at me.
GEDs, robbing bank accounts, running away, hiding me, hiding our car…
My breath hitched in my throat. Our car. We’re running away. He’s hiding me. Protecting me. Together. We’re doing this together.
“Abby?”
I took his hand and slid each finger between his, allowing everything to sink in. We were together. Just the two of us. Alone. “Derick?”
Now an idiotic smile deformed his beautiful face, and I loved every second of it. “Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
He drew little circles along my skin with his thumb. “Without a doubt.”
Forming thoughts was impossible. My heart stuttered way too fast for me to concentrate, but I wanted to hear him say it, to speak the words I knew he meant. “T-tell me, then?”
Two huge, green road signs loomed before us. Derick took the left exit toward Rocky Mt North Carolina, drove onto the shoulder, then pulled the emergency brake, bringing the car to an abrupt halt. He flung off his seat belt, took my face in both his hands and leaned over the shifter. “I love you, Abigail Nichols. I’ve wanted to say this for at least a year but never knew how you felt until I saw you staring at me at The Griffin. The fact you weren’t reading your favorite book for the millionth time, and you were watching me, biting that cute little lip of yours, I knew I wasn’t alone. The only thing left here to ask is: Do you love me back?”
I stared into his blue eyes, mesmerized by his intensity, by the amount of passion in his words. My heart pounded out a techno beat, celebrating the greatest emotion it had ever felt. “I do. I love you, too.”
Then he kissed me, and whatever breath I’d managed to fill my lungs with escaped. He was mine. And I was his. Together.
We were in love.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
We jumped and looked out the window. A state trooper with his tall, wide-brimmed hat and skeptically curious eyes stood beside the car, peering in at us.
Our plans for escape were ruined.
Derick returned to his side of the car, hands to himself, then he rolled down the window.
“Good afternoon.” The trooper rested his arms on the door. Samson, according to his nametag, he was Trooper Samson. “I thought you might be having car troubles, but I can see everything is just fine.”
He winked at me, and I felt a heat like no other flash into my cheeks.
“Sorry, sir. We were just… talking,” Derick said without a hint of the fear I felt.
“Right. Well, you should talk elsewhere. Stopping on the side of the road is dangerous. Cars are hit on the shoulder all the time.” Standing straight, he mumbled something into the little square radio on his shoulder. “May I see your license and registration, please?”
Crap. Crap. Crap.
“Yes, sir.” Derick reached in front of me and opened the glove box. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling out the owner’s manual.
How? Good Lord, we hadn’t even made it a hundred miles and we were already in trouble.
“Let’s see. Warranty, insurance… here it is, sir.” Derick handed over the piece of paper.
Trooper Samson took the registration, then Derick reached in his wallet and pulled out his license.
“Here’s my ID, sir.” So calm. So collected.
Not me.
“The car belongs to you, Mr. Crawford?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And your girlfriend here, how old is she?”
I caught the faintest hint of a smile on Derick’s face, but he quickly smoothed out his expression and cleared his throat. “Seventeen, sir.”
“My birthday is next week,” I blurted.
“Well, happy birthday.”
I felt stupid. My mouth needed to stay shut!
Trooper Samson handed back Derick’s paperwork. “Where you guys headed? You’re pretty far from home on a school night. I assume you both go to school?”
We didn’t have an excuse. What possible thing could we say to make the State Trooper leave? I bounced my knees, and Trooper Samson looked. He noticed. He knew I was nervous. He knew something was wrong. He knew we were running away. Hell, he may have known we were magical.
“We do go to school, sir, but we’re on our way to the beach. Family vacation.”
Dumbest lie ever. I put my hands over my face, sure we were about to be carted back to Fredericksburg.
“I remember visiting colleges when I was your age.”
Huh? Colleges? What just happened?
I peeked through my fingers, and he tipped his hat.
“Have a safe trip. And remember, the next time you want to kiss that pretty little girlfriend of yours, exit the highway.”
“Thank you, sir.” Derick raised the window, an expression as if he just won the lottery on his face. “Did you hear that? Girlfriend.”
He laughed.
I was afraid to ask if he used his Romancing ability, or whatever the heck it was called. What if I imagined what Derick said to the trooper? What if I misunderstood him or didn’t hear the rest of his excuse because I was too nervous?
What if he had no idea what he did?
We got back on the road, and I couldn’t help but think I needed to read more from the Powers of Kalóans chapter or call home and ask questions.
“Did you hear me?” Derick asked.
I shook my head.
“I said how about the beach? We can go to Florida. Live the salt life. Sun. Sand. Ocean. Sound good?”
When he spoke, my concerns washed away. When he smiled, my heart melted. I’d figure out what happened later, but right now, I wanted to focus on us. “Gulf Coast?”
“Of course.”
“Megan and Will say it’s the best coast in the world. They should know; they’ve been everywhere together with their families.”
“My parents and I vacationed in Longboat Key once.”
“I remember. You were gone too long, and then you came back and wouldn’t stop talking about all the fun you had. I thought I was going to kill you. My parents refused to go on vacation that year.” I propped my foot on the dash. “Stuck in Virginia with nothing to do and no one to do it with. Even the dance studio closed for summer sessions. Worst summer ever.”
“I missed you that summer, too.” Derick grabbed my hand and held it over the shifter. “It’s a quiet key. We can live there.”
“Didn’t you say it’s ridiculously expensive?”
He shrugged. “Bad economy means cheap rentals.”
And apparently we had two years’ worth of money. Whatever that amounted to. “Sounds great.”
The car accelerated, and Derick turned on some music. I let go of his hand, then snatched the book out of the backseat. Longboat was a good seventeen-hour drive, and I doubted we’d stop often. That was a good thing. I needed as much time as possible to figure out what we were getting ourselves into.
Derick
he Interstate stretched on forever, one straight road laid out for more miles than I cared to count. Abby fell asleep hours ago, the book propp
ed on her chest, her head against the window.
She looked so peaceful, a slight smile gracing her soft lips.
For the first time since October, I felt like I’d accomplished something. A small victory in a world full of screwed up things. Abby sat next to me. No one tagged along and cramped up the car—or followed us. Our lives were in our hands.
The way life should be.
I’d pulled over at a small 7-11 to refill the tank, grab some more junk food, and buy a cheapo cell phone. I’m not sure how she slept through all that, but given the amount of disturbing information her bodyguards dumped on her today, heavy sleep wasn’t uncalled for.
At least she’d be surprised later.
Digging through the center console, I found the real estate listing I’d printed at the library, then dialed the agent’s number.
“Molly Anderson. How may I help you?”
I cleared my throat. “Hi, Ms. Anderson. My name is Derick Crawford. I’m interested in purchasing the unit for sale in the Silver Sands building.”
“Oh.” I heard papers fall in the background. “When would you like to see the property?”
“My wife and I will be down there in a few hours. Any chance you could leave the keys for us? We would love to rent it while the sales transaction is in process. I plan to pay cash.”
“O-of course. Let me see…” she paused, giving me time to take a bite of a white-powdered donut and wait to see how easy my abilities make life. “Yes, sir. That unit is on our rental list. I can leave the keys inside on the table for you; all you have to do is drop by the office with your rental payment shortly after arrival. I’ll contact the owners and let them know they have papers to sign. Do you have an estimated time of arrival, Mr. Crawford?”
So easy. “Assuming we don’t hit any construction traffic, we should make it in around 7:00 a.m.”
“Be careful. Driving all night is dangerous.”
Stopping was out of the question. I had explicit instructions to keep moving, instructions I wanted to curse at when they were given to me yesterday. Even in escape, we weren’t totally free. But this was better than nothing. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Crawford. Thank you so much! You will love your new home.”
I glanced at Abby; the setting sun radiated her cheeks and the natural strands of red in her dark hair, hiding the paleness the winter months created.
I know we will.
Abigail
“Wake up.” Derick nudged my shoulder, raising me from a weird dream that frayed at the edges, something full of blackness and thick orange flames, something I felt stuck and paralyzed in.
I opened my eyes, but the inside of the car was just as dark. The only light came from the faint glow of the instruments on the dashboard.
“What time is it?” I asked, blinking repeatedly to clear the fuzzy sleep from my eyes.
The book slipped from my chest and landed next to my feet. I couldn’t even remember reading, or when I fell asleep.
“3:00 a.m. I can’t drive anymore.”
“Where are we?” I looked around and saw reflective signs for gas stations, hotels, and… “Does that say Jacksonville? You drove that far?”
“Yep. Even sat for a couple hours in construction traffic somewhere in Georgia. Or maybe it was North Carolina. I can’t remember.” He yawned and veered over the rumble strip.
My head vibrated, as well as everything else in the car. “Take the next exit. I’ll drive.”
Derick pulled into the parking lot of a Howard Johnson and could barely get out of his seatbelt, let alone open the door to switch sides.
“Should we stay the night?”
“No. Must keep moving.” He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, his eyes half-closed, his arms limp at his sides.
“Why?”
“I would prefer to be as far away as possible.”
“I’d say we’re pretty far, Derick. I think we should stop for the night.”
Turning his head, he stared at me, the skin below his eyes puffy and red. “I can’t protect you here.”
I knew it. I knew this all seemed too easy and that Derick had a bigger plan. He always does! “Spill. Now.”
“I’m sorry.” He dug in his pocket, pulled out a piece of crumpled notebook paper, then handed it to me. “Go ahead. Read it. My dad gave it to me yesterday.”
The white-lined paper was a letter addressed to Derick.
“Your mother and I know you’re planning to run. She’s seen it. Your destiny is to be with that girl, and you have to protect her, but you must understand there are many who wish to see her dead. Abby must be kept safe so the planes remain closed until we figure out a way to work with our allies to gain control of Kalós. You cannot trust anyone, not even us—we have already failed her in so many ways.”
I glared at Derick, but only one of his eyes remained open—barely—so I’m sure the full effect of my anger was lost with his exhaustion. “When were you going to tell me? I thought this was spontaneous! Well, I knew you’d planned it, but not a plan with your parents. How could you keep this from me?”
“I didn’t plan this with my parents. They only knew because my mom sees the future. And I didn’t intentionally keep anything from you.” He took a deep breath and leaned impossibly harder against the steering wheel. “Keep reading. Please.”
His eyes closed.
Ugh. “We’ve left instructions for you in a safety deposit box at your bank, instructions we’ve erased from our memories. Get the contents of the box, then follow whatever directions are there.”
Derick yawned. “The notes they left said for me to pick a place I loved, a place where you would be happy, and not to stop until we got there. Because that location would be the safest for us both. I wanted to go to Longboat well before Dad shared his letter with me,” he mumbled. “Ever since we got back that summer and you were upset that I was gone so long, I’ve wanted to take you there. So when you mentioned the Gulf Coast, I knew Longboat was going to be our new home.”
I ignored him. How could I stay mad? He knew me well enough to understand that after all these years I still wanted to go to one of the best beaches in the world. “Take the book. It will tell you so much about yourself, her, and how to keep her out of harm’s way.” I stared at Derick. “At least your parents seem concerned for me.”
“Secrets or not, they’ve always been wonderful, and they’ve always loved you.” He rubbed his eyes. Poor guy. Derick had driven for over ten hours straight. Because he worried about me. Because he loved me.
I thought back to the conversation that made me want to leave, and all the innuendos I didn’t understand. “Why do you think Mark’s dad said you were Mark’s greatest competition?”
Sounds of heavy breathing were my only response, so I finished reading.
“The most important thing, Derick, is to leave your cell phones behind. Do not try to contact us unless it’s through the game.” Mr. Crawford spoke at least one truth: the way to contact other Kalóans was through some stupid online role-playing game. “We will see you again. We know you love Abby, and she loves you. Take care, and do not assume you are safe. Ever.”
I carefully placed the note inside the book and slammed it closed, my hands shaking the entire time; we were both in danger, warned not to assume we were safe—ever. The underlying threat of what that meant sent chills rippling across my skin, even with the layers of long-sleeves and coats that we would soon no longer need. And the mention of his parents not trusting themselves… why? How could his parents, of all the consistent and loyal people in the world, not trust themselves? My mind whirled, spinning the aged, yet hard faces of Mr. Crawford and Mr. Snellings together, both men saying and implying horrible—gross—things.
I shook my head and focused on the more important facts: we were still runaways. I don’t know why that seemed so important, but that’s how I felt. I also felt Derick’s failure to tell me about his dad’s letter wasn’t real
ly a lie, more an unfortunate omission due to a lack of time. So I refused to stay upset with him when we were venturing into the unknown, side-by-side.
Our futures were intertwined, and our present suddenly sent my stomach reeling. People who lived together and loved each other slept together. I’d shared a bed with Derick once, but not like this. Not as a couple who pulled over and made out on the side of the road. Not as a man and woman who went to work and paid bills then came home and—“Derick, wake up.”
He groaned, but we couldn’t stay here. Longboat was calling. For reasons more important than just my safety.
“Der-rick!”
Opening his eyes, he leaned back on his seat. “I’m up. Are you still mad at me?”
“No, but we need to keep moving, remember?”
“You okay to drive?” he asked, fingers already on the handle.
I’d never seen him so tired, so worn out, but seriously, he was in no condition to drive, and sleep was the last thing on my mind. “Switch seats before we become murder statistics or something.”
Derick got out of his seat, stormed around the car, and opened my door before I could blink an eye. “That wasn’t funny, Abby.”
A warm, tropical breeze wafted through my hair and caressed my cheeks, but his icy stare could have frozen lava, or rivaled the less than tropical temperatures back home. He offered his hand, but I was ashamed to take it, afraid somehow he would be as cold as his gaze. I didn’t want that from Derick. I wanted the gentle, curious boy I’d kissed in a coffee shop. I wanted my best friend without a threat of world destruction, without the hurt on his face right now.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t implying you were fail—”
He took hold of my elbow and helped me to my feet. We were so close; his chest touched mine with each of his quickened breaths, and my pulse raced away from me. “If anything happens to you, or if those guys track us before we make it to safety, it’ll be the last failure this world remembers. I could never live with myself if you were hurt. Not because I care about winning a war, but because I care about you. Period.”