Where the Road Takes Me by Jay McLean
She turned to me, and her eyes went huge. “Oh shit,” she whispered. She looked shocked. Or scared. Or both.
I let my breath out with a whoosh. “It is you.” I swallowed my nerves. Why was I nervous? “I was calling your name.”
“Oh shit,” she said again. Same tone. She spun on her heels and started walking away.
I caught up and matched her step for step. “What’s going on?” Her reaction confused me. “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
She sped up.
“Abby, stop!” She eventually did, throwing her backpack into a shitty old convertible. She fingered the door handle, but I rested my ass against the door, making sure she had no choice but to speak to me. I linked my hands behind my head and studied the sky, letting out a frustrated groan. “You go to school here?”
She shrugged but kept her eyes down. I dropped my arms. “Abby!” I tried to get her to acknowledge me again. She didn’t look up, but I thought I detected the hint of a smile. My voice was flat as I asked, “Do you want to enlighten me on what’s so funny?”
She giggled. God, just hearing her giggle brought back all the feelings from our time together.
“My name’s not Abby.”
“What? You gave me a fake name?”
“So did you!”
“What? No I didn’t!”
And right on cue, Will showed up. “Hunter! You coming to . . .” He trailed off. Maybe he noticed the look in my eyes, pleading with him to fuck off. “What?” he asked me. Then he glanced from me to Abby—or whatever her name was. “Oh,” he said and began to nod. “New toy?” He eyed her up and down, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.
I wanted to punch him.
Pushing off her car, I stood between them and faced Will. “I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” I didn’t have time to fuck around.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, man.” He walked off, but not before winking at her.
I ignored the need to beat his ass and turned to her. “So your name’s not Abby?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “And your name’s Hunter?” she asked skeptically.
I shook my head. “Are you new—to this school, I mean?”
“No.”
“Then how the hell do you not know who I am?”
She laughed. “Are you some kind of god who I should bow down to?”
“No.” But then I replayed my words in my head—I sounded like a dick. I shook my head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure.” Amusement filled her eyes. I wanted to laugh with her, but she suddenly grew serious and took a step back.
Then the worst thing that could possibly happen happened.
“Babe!” Hannah shouted.
“Fuck.”
She was at my side instantly. “I was hoping to catch up with you before you left.” She rose up on her toes and kissed my cheek.
Every single part of my body tensed.
I didn’t want her there. I didn’t want Abby—or whatever her name was—to see us together. Not like this.
“Hey . . .” Hannah cooed. She was talking to Not Abby. “You’re in my gym class, right?”
She nodded.
“Chloe, is it?”
She chewed her lip and then nodded once.
Chloe.
Her eyes met mine—conveying an emotion I couldn’t decipher. And then she turned, leaned over the back door of her car, and reached for something. She held my letterman jacket out to Hannah. “I spilled soda on your boyfriend’s jacket, and I offered to dry-clean it; he was just asking for it back.”
“Oh,” Hannah said quietly, taking it from her hands.
I stood there frozen, not knowing what to say or do. Then Hannah’s fingernails dug into my forearms, and she turned me to face her. My eyes never left Chloe. Not until the wrong pair of lips brushed against mine, and her tongue invaded my mouth.
Then I heard a car start.
Pushing Hannah away, I spun around, but Chloe was already hauling ass out of there. I turned back to Hannah. “This game’s getting a little old, don’t you think?”
She shrugged, examined her nails, and muttered, “Call me,” before spinning on her heels and walking away.
CHAPTER FIVE
Chloe
It wasn’t like I was going to be late for my first day of work at the bowling alley, but I had wanted to arrive early and make a good impression. I hadn’t expected Hunter to come chasing after me at school. In fact, I had expected exactly what I’d gotten from him over the last four years—nothing.
I rushed to change into the uniform that Josh, the guy who was training me, had handed me. They came in only one size: whore.
It was a tight fit, especially across my chest, and the top ended just below my belly button, leaving about an inch of skin between it and the band of my jeans. I’d be sure to order a larger size for my next shift.
I’d be working at the snack bar, which was perfect for me. I liked mundane, monotonous-type jobs that never led anywhere.
“Perfect,” Josh said, eyeing me up and down as I made my way to my post. I hadn’t decided if the guy was a complete sleaze or just an idiot. He looked to be around my age, but he told me he worked full-time, which meant that he was either older, or hadn’t cared much for high school and had dropped out.
“I’ll have to order a larger size,” I told him.
“Or . . .” He paused and lifted the counter door for me. “You could keep it and make four times the tips.”
“And compromise my soul?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be okay. Thank you for the suggestion, though.”
He shrugged and led me through a doorway into the kitchen prep area and then to a separate storeroom that was reserved for staff. He told me I could keep my stuff there. Back in the snack bar, he began to show me the equipment. Just as he was about to demonstrate how to operate the coffee machine, a voice interrupted us. “Yo, Josh.”
I froze.
I didn’t even have to see him to know who it was. Slowly, I turned around and faced him. Blake/Hunter’s eyes practically fell out of his head when he saw me. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Next to me, Josh laughed. “Hunter, this is Chloe. Chloe—Hunter.”
We mirrored each other’s reactions. Frozen. Silent. Finally, he looked away. But where he looked didn’t make me feel any better. His eyes zoned in on my breasts. I crossed my arms and tried to cover them. A slow smile began to spread across his face. “You work here?” he asked.
Josh answered for me. “As of today, from three ’til nine, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, it’ll be us three.”
“Us three?” I choked out.
Blake/Hunter chuckled. He chewed his lip, shaking his head slowly from side to side. Then he took a big gulp of the soda he held in his hand. I pried my eyes away from his lips. I knew what those lips tasted like. And I knew that I shouldn’t have kissed him, but I thought I’d never have to deal with him again. “I quit,” I announced.
Blake/Hunter choked on his drink. Tugging my shirt lower, I moved to the counter and began to lift the door. A pair of heavy forearms thumped down on it. “You’re not quitting,” he said. He was smiling again, a smile so wide it made him look smug.
My eyes narrowed.
Josh turned to me. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if you want to quit because of Hunter, there’s no need. He works desk and shoes. You won’t even see each other. And I need you here with me. I’ll even go out back and check for a larger shirt.”
“But you said this was the only size you ha—”
Blake/Hunter’s laugh cut me off. He reached over with his hand up and high-fived Josh just as Josh was turning to walk into the storeroom, I assumed to get my new shirt.
“You guys are assholes,
“My first name’s Blake. My last name’s Hunter,” he said, leaning against the counter. His biceps flexed against his sleeves. Only then, did I realize we were wearing the same uniform. “Just so you’re not confused, I didn’t lie to you. Everyone calls me Hunter. I’m a jock”—he shrugged—“and my dad’s ex-army, so it kind of just happened.”
“Oh.”
He nodded. “And your name’s Chloe?”
It was my turn to nod.
“And you go to my school.”
I nodded again. “But contrary to popular belief, I don’t think it’s actually your school.”
He laughed then, a genuine laugh that reached his eyes, his light blue eyes. I had never known the strength of them until Saturday night. Not until he’d held my gaze and managed to tell me in a few sentences what I’d wanted to hear my entire life. It hadn’t mattered that he was a stranger. Or that he had had no idea what kind of impact his words would have. He had given me more than I’d come to expect from anyone.
“You got customers, asshole,” Josh said from behind me.
Blake’s eyes moved slowly from me to the front desk, where a family was waiting for service. When his gaze returned to me, he winked. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you around, Chloe.”
Josh was right. During the six-hour shift, I barely saw Blake. Not until the lanes closed and we shut the doors to prepare for cleanup. As soon as the front entrance was locked, music filled my ears. Then I felt the heat of a body behind me. “This is when the fun begins.” Blake.
I turned to him to ask what he meant, but he just smirked. He reached for a broom and handed it to me. “Cleanup time,” he said.
I was two swipes of the broom in when the electricity cut out and the bowling alley fell into pitch-black darkness. The music was still playing, though. Blake’s laugh from behind me caught me off guard. Then Josh’s howl echoed through the building.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
I felt Blake’s hand on the small of my back, and then his fingers skimmed my waist. “Come on,” he said quietly into my ear. His lips brushed against my cheek, then he pulled away and found my hand holding the broom. “Drop it.” The huskiness in his voice made me quiver.
I did as he asked. As it fell to the floor, he laced his fingers through mine. The touch was light but enough to make my head spin. The music stopped. A lone, dim light flicked on, illuminating the middle of the lanes. The song started again. Louder this time. The bass thumped, rattling the objects around us. He started to walk, pulling me with him. His hand grasped mine tighter with every step.
Josh appeared in one of the lit-up lanes, two skateboards in hand. “Come on, Hunter!” he shouted over the music. “Let’s show off for New Girl.”
“I have a name!” I yelled back.
“Yeah!” Josh responded. “And it’s not Abby!”
My gasp was stupidly loud. I turned to Blake, but all I could see was his silhouette towering over me. “You told him?”
He squeezed my hand once. “You did lie to me. I had to check your resume, make sure you weren’t lying about anything else.”
“You checked my resume?” I wasn’t sure if I was pissed or amused.
He laughed. “I’m just fucking with you, Chloe.”
I pulled my hand out of his grasp when I was able to see where I was going. I didn’t want him to think that it was okay to do things like that. Not now that we were going to have to see a lot more of each other, at least for the next three months, until graduation.
Josh dropped the skateboard in front of me. “Show us what you got, princess.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I took in our surroundings. My eyes landed back on Josh. “Um. No?”
“What, are you scared?”
“What?”
Blake went over and stood next to him, arms crossed. It made his shoulders look even broader than they already were. Josh mimicked his pose. “Yeah,” Blake teased. “Quit being a girl.”
“Oh my God.” A small giggle escaped. “You guys are idiots.” I turned and started walking away, but firm hands gripped my shoulders, holding me back.
“Stay,” Blake murmured into my ear. “I promise I’ll be nice.”
I froze, determined to push down the feelings that arose when he was this close.
With his arm around my shoulders, he sat us down on the chairs surrounding the ball return. “Just watch,” he told me.
Josh—he was kind of amazing with a skateboard. I didn’t know shit about skateboarding, but I knew enough to realize that he wasn’t doing everyday-kid-in-a-skate-park stuff. I ignored the fact that I was sure what he was doing wasn’t allowed. Skating on and between the lanes, grinding against the gutters, down the ball return machine, using his skateboard as a bowling ball and trying to knock down pins—I knew he could be fired in seconds—probably me, too, just for watching. But it felt familiar to me, watching him like this. Like he, too, needed a place to escape. A reason to leave the world behind and just feel free.
“You want to try?” Blake asked. I turned to find him staring at me. I wondered how long he’d been watching, but I didn’t ask, just got on my feet and pulled my shirt down as far as it would go. Turned out there were no larger sizes, so I was stuck with my whore-size shirt until the manager could order me a new one.
Blake licked his lips and stood up. His eyes were pleading. I didn’t know what for.
“Fine.”
He grinned. “Yeah?”
“I’m warning you. I’ll suck.”
“At least you’ll try,” he replied, taking my hand again.
And I let him.
“You suck!” he shouted as I passed him, wobbling from side to side.
I laughed. “I told you I would!”
He jogged up next to me and held my hips, helping me balance. Well, that was what I thought, until he jumped on the board, too. His legs were on either side of mine, and his fingers moved higher and curled around my waist. “It’s easy,” he said into my ear. “It’s all about balance, moving your body with the board.”
We were heading straight for a wall. “Whoa.” Panic set in, and I started to fall.
He laughed and gripped me tighter. “You’re fine. I got you. Just sway your body with mine, okay? We’ll go slow.”
I closed my eyes and let him take control. He pressed his body into mine; I followed his lead and moved forward. I felt us turning around. Feeling it was safe enough, I opened my eyes. A low laugh bubbled out of me. “It feels like we’re flying.” I tilted my head up and looked at him.
“Yeah,” he replied, “it really does.” He smiled, but his eyes were distant. Lost in another world.
Then the music cut off. Blake’s foot screeched against the floor, and he came to an abrupt stop. But the skateboard and I didn’t. “Shit!” we yelled at the same time. Then I was airborne. He gripped my waist more firmly and pulled me back, my legs flailing up in the air for a moment as the skateboard rolled on. I was just catching my balance when I looked up and noticed Josh behind the desk.
“What’s up?” Josh’s voice echoed. He was on his phone. “I’m on my way,” he said, a note of panic clearly detectable in his voice. He looked over at us. Blake’s hands were still on my waist.
“Hunter, man . . . I gotta jet. Tommy’s in the emergency room.”
Blake dropped his hands. “Dude, go!”
Then Josh was off, searching his pockets as he ran to the exit. “Fuck.” He stopped and turned back to us. “I skated here.” His voice broke, as though he was on the verge of tears.
“I’ll take you,” Blake told him. It was instant. He didn’t even think twice. He turned to me and asked, “You coming?”
I didn’t know why he asked me to go, but I wasn’t going to say no.
Josh switched the lig
I started toward the storeroom. “What about the cleanup?” I shouted over my shoulder.
“I got it,” he answered with the phone already to his ear.
What would normally have been a fifteen-minute drive took five. Josh had the car door open and jumped out before we even came to a complete stop. After finding a parking spot and turning the car off, Blake turned to me. “Tommy is Josh’s son.”
CHAPTER SIX
Chloe
Josh was pacing back and forth in the waiting room when we walked in. He paused for a moment when he saw us but then continued. “They won’t let me see him,” he shouted to no one in particular.
Blake approached him but gave him his space. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
“I mean that bitch didn’t put my name on Tommy’s birth certificate, so I have no fucking right to see my own son. Where the fuck is she, Blake? I’m here, so where the fuck is she when our son’s in there?” He pointed at the swinging doors next to the nurses’ station. “He’s my fucking son!” he shouted again, this time for their benefit.
Blake took a brave step forward and put his arm around Josh’s shoulders. As they headed out the door, Blake spoke quietly, with his head bent, his words meant for only Josh.
I took a seat and waited. Honestly, I felt a little out of place. And hospitals—particularly this one—weren’t filled with good memories.
A few minutes later, they came back in. Josh looked a little calmer as he slumped down on the seat opposite me. Blake sat next to me. His arm rested along the back of my chair. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. My eyes stayed on Josh. “Josh?” I asked. He looked up from the floor. He seemed to have aged a decade in the half hour since I’d watched him skateboarding so freely in the bowling alley. Then it clicked—why I had had that feeling when I was watching him. That was his escape. His hideaway from reality, where he could just be a kid again, instead of raising one. “Who’s here with Tommy?”