Take to the Skies

Chapter Three

"Hardly," I said, clearing my throat, "Though I can't say the same for you."

She shrugged propping an elbow up on my shoulders, "So... you don't have any plans for tonight?"

I gestured my arm out to the fire, "You're looking at them."

A beat skipped before she perked up, her smile somehow getting wider. "In that case, we should ditch. Let's go to my house. We can swim, and my parents aren't home," she said, before looking over at Eli, "and your little lapdog can come too."

"HEY-" Eli started, before I slapped my hand over his mouth. I put on a fake smile, trying to figure out how I could get out of this without outright saying no. I didn't have any legitimate reason to say no, but also nothing pushing me to say yes. If I did, I'm certain Mabrey will get the wrong idea.

Just as I open my mouth to answer, we hear sirens and at least five different cop cars pull up to the fire.

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Cops and teenagers were yelling, bottles were being flung everywhere, and cars were being revved up and hitting the road. And there was me, frozen in place.

I never have been good when it comes to dealing with unexpected conflict.

Eli, thank the heavens above, is. He pulled me back by my shoulders into the bed of the truck, spilling my beer on me before yanking the bottle out of my hand and chucking it out into the field. The engine of the truck roared, and the gears were being shifted into drive as some other people jumped up in the truck bed with us right as the driver hit the gas. I finally unfroze and hung onto the sides of the truck for dear life, because the people who jumped in the truck bed with us forgot one small detail: the tailgate was still down.

The wind was blowing in our faces as we howled, trying to hang on and not go flying off the back of the truck. Eli was hanging on to the side of the truck with his right arm, his left slung across my chest, keeping me close to him as I grabbed the edge of the wall with my hands. In the moment, it felt right out of a movie, and we were all having fun. Once the immediate threat of the cops was gone, the truck slowed, laughter erupted into the night. Everyone around us, which in the dark appeared to be four other boys, got fairly situated and appeared to be calming down from the adrenaline spike.

That's when we saw the cop car.

"Shit!" the mystery guy sitting across from me said, opening the cab window, "Yo, Matt! You're getting tailed!"

I don't know what was said from Matt, but the truck's engine rumbled underneath us and everyone around me cheered as our speed picked up. I was plenty sobered up by now, or at least, that's how it felt, and I was ready to get out of this situation. Unfortunately, the cop was gaining speed, and so were we. We had all gone silent, the amusement of the chase gone as we held on for dear life, the roar of the wind in our ears. I heard Eli's chest rumble, like he was talking, and I looked up at him.

"What??" I yelled, hearing my voice crack.

"HOLD O-"

I didn't hear the rest of what Eli said, because we hung a sharp left and the momentum forced him to let go of me. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Even with the roar of the wind, I heard Eli yell my name as I traveled through the air, my hands grasping out for any and everything as I was flung to the end of the tailgate. Fear finally seized me, freezing my body, and I closed my eyes tightly, sure that I was going to hit the ground and my brains would be splattered all over the asphalt. And then I felt the sharp pain in my stomach.

It wasn't the ground, or anything on it, for that matter. I was being held on the edge of the tailgate, my legs dangling off in the wind, and someone's arm wrapped around my stomach was the only thing keeping me from certain death. I didn't hear myself screaming at first, until the person yanked me into their lap with impossible levels of strength. I scrambled, trying to find anything to hold onto, and settled for fistfuls of this person's shirt. The adrenaline was running through my veins so much that I didn't care about how it looked; I felt as though any moment I'm going to get thrown off this truck and die.