Don't Hurt Me

Chapter 24

In the morning, we stop at a gas station to buy food and use the bathroom. I want a shower, but the best I can do is use water from the tap to wash my face and wet my hair.

Afterwards, while we sit in the car, humming to the radio, I turn to Josh with a thought. "Do you think you'd let me drive for a while?"

His lips twist uncertainly.

"Come on. It's an automatic, right? No problem."

"I don't know, Clare."

"Why? What's the problem?"

"The problem is I happen to like this car."

"There's nothing around for me to crash into, if that's what you're worried about."

"La la la," he goes, pretending to drown me out. I smack his arm, and he laughs like a cheeky little boy.

Later that afternoon, he calls Erin again. This time, he steps outside for privacy while I wait in the car, but I can still hear every word.

"... no, I'm just not feeling too good ... hmm? Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll be back at school in a few days. Yeah ... "

I turn my head, staring out the windshield at he paces in front of the car. The wind teases the dark curls of his hair. His shoulders are perfect, his jeans slung low around his slim waist.

"... no, no, don't come see me," he's saying. "I wouldn't want you to catch it. Promise me, Erin ... yeah, I know. Don't worry. I'll see you, OK?" He mumbles something else I don't catch, then hangs up, striding back to the car.

He starts the engine again and we keep driving, on and on. For the rest of the day, when we talk, he and I stick to safe topics. School. The weather. The route to Callville.

Another night and another morning fall away. Uncomfortable sleep, bathroom wash-ups as showers and greasy fast food that leaves Josh feeling sick instead of satisfied.

It's four in the afternoon on the third day of our drive when we finally arrive at Gran's. The house is white stucco, with dark windows. Tall trees shadow its sides. I can hear Sonny, Gran's excitable Dalmatian, barking from somewhere in the back.

I sit staring out of the car's window, not moving yet. I can't believe I'm actually here, so far away from home. And with Josh, of all people.

I take a glance at my chaffeur, who leans back tiredly in his seat. "What now?" he asks.

"Wait here," I tell him, undoing my seat belt. I jump out of the car, making my way up the house's three steps with three different creaks. I press the bell, which unleashes a long, annoying rhythm of pings.

Nobody answers, so I try again. Nobody comes. Even so, I don't believe the house is empty. Gran hardly goes out, and the way Sonny's barking ...

I casually try the knob. It turns. I push it open, standing before a narrow white hallway. Framed quotes take up the wall. Mail waits on a stand next to me. There's no one in sight.

I step forward, going past an empty, pristine living room. Nothing has changed in my grandmother's house, as far as I can remember. Same old furniture in shades of coffee and leaf-green, the same array of houseplants, the same smell of something vaguely medicinal.

The den door is closed, and I'm considering knocking when I hear a sound from the kitchen. Drawn, I continue down the hall. Behind the strings of beads hanging over the archway, I make out a figure. Tall. A blue dress that falls down to her knees. A straight tail of hair that gleams with the sun. She's tapping on the window, yelling at Sonny to be quiet. She's fixing something - coffee?