Started With a Lie

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Thanks to @CameiliaJ for the cute little banner to the side! I am loving all the fan works. I’ve added a little something for all you One Direction fans (and a little something for normal fans as well, wink) because only a matter of time until my concert, eeee (insert squeal).

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A soft tune is playing on the radio when I wake up.

    “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

        I rub at my eyes and sit up straight. Lee is driving with the windows down, one elbow resting on the edge. The clock reads 8:03AM.  I must’ve fallen asleep after the diner. Good food and not enough sleep does that to you. We’re in Brent’s car that we stole and we are cruising through on the highway.

        “How long have I been asleep?” I ask, fixing my tangled hair that’s caused thanks to the wind. “Jeez, I don’t even remember dozing off.”

        Lee looks over and shoots me a smile. “About one minute after we got into the car, actually. I guess you really don’t like waking up early.”

        I cross my arms and glare. “Wow, genius of you to think that.”

        “All right, princess, don’t get your panties into a twist while you’re on your throne,” Lee says, smirking. “We just need to stop by for some gas.” He nudges his chin to the gas meter which is slowly leaning down to the E sign. “Do we have any money for gas?”

        Sitting up straighter, I reach into my pocket for the wad of bills that my brother had left for a good cause—obviously for this day when Lee and I needed it. “Yep,” I say, “we have around eighty dollars left.”

        Lee nods, a secret smile tinging his lips. He doesn’t say anything but just takes a left turn and then a right. We arrive at a shabby gas station in the middle of dense trees. The whole place looks rusty and as if a small breath might send the whole station crumbling down. Lee takes a turn into it anyway and I try not to be suspicious of this empty, overly dirty gas station.

        “Be right back,” he announces, getting out of the car and going to get the pump of gas. I sit there for about a minute before feeling the urge to get out too and stretch. Being in a car for some time had cramped my legs.

        The one good thing about the place is the air. Maybe it’s because of the various amounts of trees or the fact that there aren’t really any cars or buildings around, but it felt good to just breathe for once. Sometimes in a small town like Brownwood, all you feel is suffocation. The closeness of everyone, the secrets that spill effortlessly, the limited amount of people you could meet. There’s never someone different. It’s the same personality but different bodies for almost everyone there. Also, same fights and drama and problems. It wasn’t just boring, it was exhausting.

        “Hey,” a voice says. I turn immediately because it’s not Lee’s voice. There’s a boy with curly hair and a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off. Nice muscles, I think.

        “Hey,” I reply. I don’t know why he’s talking to me.

        “I’m Marcel,” he says, grinning. I think he has a British accent. Not on the low down like Lee’s but like he just moved to America yesterday or something.

        “Cool,” I say, “I’m Ivory. Nice to meet you.”

        “Hi Ivory,” Marcel says, smiling with two deep dimples etched into his cheeks. “I just wanted to offer you some window cleaning? We’re having a discount today and today only. And if you don’t want that, we have some roses on sale. A rose for the beautiful lady?”