The Girl Who Sold Herself on Ebay

[8] Introductions and Internet addictions

          As I effortlessly shoved clothes into my bag, I couldn’t help but let my gaze wander to Jaspers email that still sat on my computer screen. I’d always vowed I’d never meet up with someone from this internet, and now I was really doing it. There was no turning back either, he’d paid for me. He’d never attached a photo of himself and thinking about what he looked like sent my stomach twisting in knots. I don’t think I’d ever been as nervous about something in my life; I was meeting a complete stranger whose apartment I’d be cleaning for the next two months. But he wasn’t just a stranger; he was a seventeen year old stranger, a teenage guy stranger. And I was just a dumb teenage girl, a hopeless romantic at that. I knew this whole thing was stupid, but I was as excited as a kid locked in a candy store after closing time.  I mean, what if this guy was… cute?

          But on the contrary, what if he was an overweight runescape addict who lied about having a job so I’d get the impression he actually got more exercise than reaching for another chip? As much as I wanted him to be Mr. Cutie, I couldn’t help but let Mr. internet-addicted fatty slip his way into my mind as well. Oh and you can’t forget Mr Kiddie fiddler, Sir Stalks-a-lot, Mr. Murderer.

          Trust me, I wasn’t that dumb.

          When my bag was packed, I sat back down at my computer and read over Jaspers e-mail one last time. I wondered if he’d used a thesaurus to make him sound less like a C- English student like I’d done in my e-bay description. The fact that he’d asked me to meet him at his apartment allowed me to mentally rule out Mr. Murderer. I mean, if he was going to kill me surely the meet-up location would have been at a house or the back of a building, right? An apartment block seemed a little too public. But who’s to say he wasn’t going to drag me round the back and…

          I shuddered, shaking the thought from my mind.

          <3

          “Where are you going with my cleaning supplies?”

          I spun around with fright to see a persistent looking Anya standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

          “U-u-uhh,” I stuttered, my lips fumbling to find the right words, “S-serenity’s place. We’re cleaning her dad’s garage.”

          “Grace,” Anya said, giving me a ‘yeah right’ sort of look, “You and the girls are going out on Saturday to clean Serenity’s Dad’s garage?”

          I sighed, drooping my shoulders in defeat.

          “Okay,” I muttered, scuffing my faded sneaker on the ground. It was ten sizes too small and I could have sworn my toe was about to burst through the end, “I got a detention for ditching school and I have to clean the locker rooms as punishment.”

          Anya nodded, she totally bought the lie. But it did sound pretty believable; I mean I did ditch school, so the evidence was there. But they never rung me and I knew they wouldn’t.  What’s the point ringing someone up who ditched the last afternoon of school? Newsflash, most teachers are smart enough to realise the real reason so many kids are ‘sick’ on the last day is because they don’t care. The last day is totally un-important and unless you’re in Eli’s health class and want to see him half naked and wet you might as well. It’s not like you’re going to miss anything.

          “Does your mum know?” Anya asked, and I shook my head.

          Anya took a step towards me and held out her pinkie, “I won’t tell if you don’t tell her about my secret window cleaner recipe.” She said, and I happily hooked my pinkie around hers.

          “Deal,” I said, and I swore I could feel the relief flooding out of her like a deflating balloon. I had Anya right where I wanted her. If she trusted me enough to make a pinkie promise, she’d never expect the real reason I was leaving. Good Girl Grace would never sell herself over the internet. But then, good girl Grace would never run away from school either.

          I guess deep down I really did have a rebellious streak.

But just as I was about to get away, Anya stopped me one more time.

          “One last question,” she pressed, her hand on my shoulder, “why do you have a suitcase?”

          I smiled, this was easy.

          “I’m staying at Serenity’s tonight, after detention.” Anya nodded, “and maybe a couple of nights after that,” I added, slightly unsure.

          Anya smiled, “Why not stay the week? It’s holidays after all, right? I’ll let mum know.”

          I sighed with relief as Anya said goodbye. She’d asked if I had a ride to get to school and I lied, saying Jeddah was parked at the end of the driveway waiting for me. I found that lying was like learning to ride a bike. The more I practiced, the steadier I became. I was beginning to be fluent in fibbing, and if anything, easy was an understatement. I could lie without even thinking about it.

          With my mind set on Mr. Cute and my bags in my arms, I made my way to the end of the driveway. I didn’t know when I’d be returning, and it made me excited. Like I was leaving the safety of my tree house and finally venturing out into the jungle,

          And hopefully, I’d trip on a vine somewhere along the track and have a gorgeous looking Jasper sweep me into his arms.

          Either that or I’d fall on my face.