Escape.

Chapter III - Rules of Confinement

I finished my classes around two in the afternoon and met a certain tall, blond-haired boy at my car. He's leaning on the side of my baby and I silently pray he doesn't scratch or dent it.

This used to be my dad's prized possession and it cost me a fortune to send it here all the way from Quebec. It was a royal pain in the ass, but it was so worth it. It's not like I could drive it all the way here, hell no. It would slaughter it and I can't let that happen to my baby. Every part of this car is its original piece and I don't trust anyone to drive her, not even Oliver. We have determined its gender. It's a she and her name is Lucy. It's not weird and in my defense, my dad is the one that named her.

He knew how much I loved this classic ride. He knew I had a huge and unconditional love for cars. It was just the way I was. It was another reason for people to find me weird. I wasn't like many girls from the West-Island. They were all into getting their nails done and designer brands and all those normal girl things. They were not accustomed to seeing a girl in a dirty ripped mechanic's jumpsuit.

In the afternoon, after school, I would just head to the garage down the road near my house and help fix up some old beauties. I have to admit, I was good at it. Soon, though, 'he' bought the place and I felt like he tore yet another part of me away. I hate him so much. I couldn't control my rage at the sight of him, I just couldn't.

I mentally punch myself for even looking back at those memories and just continue my walk to Jason. 

When I reach him, he gives me a bright smile and takes the lead to open the driver's side. Since his back is facing away from me, I take the opportunity to check Lucy for any damages. Thank goodness, there's nothing. I slip into the car and Jason closes the door, before jogging off to his own car. 

We arrive at my place about an hour later. Of course, we had to stop for coffee. I wasn't addicted or anything, it was just part of my routine. Once, when I was seven my mom had left her cup of coffee on the table and I was curious as to how the dark liquid tasted so I just lifted the mug to my lips and drank it. It was pure heaven, the way I remember it. After that, in high school, I would stay up late finishing assignments so I'd keep awake with multiple cups of coffee. Okay, maybe when I put it that way, I kind of am "addicted" to it, but no harm no foul, right?  

I drive into the condominium's parking lot and point out the guest lots for Jason to park in. I've never really had a guest, mostly because Trevor didn't allow me to have people over. He is so controlling, it's very aggravating. He's just my roommate, he has no right in blasting me with rules like that. Granted, he did own the place.

Jason looks all around in amazement as we step foot into my so-called home and we walk over to my bedroom. I gesture him over to the bed where he takes a seat, before getting back up to scan all the books on my shelves.

“Did you actually read all these?” He still looks so amazed. It's like he expects me to be some uncultured bum. I have to admit though, his gawking expression is pretty cute. 

“Yeah, I don’t really have anything better to do.” I giggle at his jaw dropping past the floor.

I go into my walk-in closet pulling out a pair of vintage skinny jeans with rips and holes in them, only to decide against it and pick a simple pair of grey jeans and a loose black top. I felt really uneasy, considering the fact that this pair of pants was way too small. The buttons didn't even want to close. Fatass, my subconscious butts-in. I got them when I weighed 115 pounds and all the eating I've been doing isn't really helpful. 

I struggle to I pull the jeans off my ankles and I opt for a pair of comfy grey Roots sweats instead. This feels much better. We're not actually going out, we're just headed to the market and then to his room to watch some movies and eat. Jesus, I eat too much.