Jovie & Bash

Five || Picasso

|CHAPTER FIVE|

When I woke up the following morning, I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was a feeling that told me I should ditch, call Bash and tell him to go without me. But, when that thought crossed my mind, all I could think about was Henry and Quinn, what they said about me—my mother.

I lived by the motto: What would mom do?

Henry was right. I couldn’t let that dictate my life. Maybe like Quinn said, I did need to “live a little.” Right now, I had everything I needed. I could take that road less traveled by if I wanted to. I was smart enough to know when to cut things off. I was good at that. I could do this. Besides, Bash made me feel like I could be exactly who I was. He made me feel comfortable enough to make a decision I normally wouldn’t.

I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me. We could be anything we wanted together. This was my fork in the road. I didn’t need to take it, but, God, I wanted to.

I silently got ready while my mother did and then got back under the covers to wait for her to leave. Usually, I was a late sleeper. If she caught me awake, she’d spend time asking questions I couldn’t answer. I felt like a disappointment if I wasn’t honest. I had to avoid her in order to make sneaking away for the day easier.

She came to check on me before she left, but with my face tilted away she couldn’t see my closed eyes were twitching—a dead giveaway that I was a fake. Although I knew she wouldn’t react as dramatically as I was playing it up, I couldn’t have any loose ends.

The second my door close, I sat up and threw my bed sheets off. I heard her car start, and by then my feet were already stuffed in my shoes and purse tossed over my shoulder.

I waited three minutes for her to drive down the street before pulling open the front door and darting down the driveway toward my bike. The Pea Shucker wasn’t out yet, but the chickens began to scream. I figured the neighborhood was too sleepy to notice but still hurried away, their chatter following me to the end of the block.

The morning was cool, and the sky a little grey. When I arrived at the bus station, Bash was waiting with our tickets. Despite the clouds he wore a brimmed hat and sunglasses. His tank top was black and had giant white letters on it that I couldn’t make out. When he saw me, he offered two thumbs up and jogged over to the bike rack where I was locking up.

“Bus leaves in five,” he told me and pointed at a bus that looked ready to go but was still semi-empty. It wasn’t a surprise, considering the times; still, it made my numbed nerves come back to life.

I stood up straight after securing my bike and followed him. “Why don’t we take a car?” I asked.

He cleared his throat and pointed over his shoulder. “See that red bike beside yours? That’s mine. I don’t have a car. See, I moved here from L.A., share an apartment, and work in a library all while drowning in university debt. I can barely afford groceries much less a couple gallons of gas.”

 “Oh,” I said, embarrassed to have even asked.

He jabbed an elbow at my arm and grinned. “Don’t feel bad. It’s fun to explore my other options.”

I followed him onto the bus where he handed off our tickets to the driver and then lead me back to a row of empty seats. He pocketed the return tickets as he sat, then reached over me and unhooked the blinds so that he could see out the window.

“Nervous?” He asked after removing his hat and sunglasses and set them on the floor beside our feet.

I twisted my hands together in my lap and nodded.