Prisoner

Chapter 13

ONE WEEK FROM SENTENCE

"I can't believe you did this." Ethan whispers as I lug him out, through the front doors of prison.

"How did you even manage to do this?" He grabs my hand the moment fresh air hits us in the face. It feels like freedom.

"I might or might not have spent the past week in court with your lawyer, pleading with the judge to let you have a one day break from prison life. You know, before your sentence. Long story, you don't wanna know what I did exactly." I pull him towards my dad's car.

"Did they let you leave the prison just like that, without any security shit?" I glance up at Ethan, as I usher him into the car.

He's not listening, but rather fixated on his surroundings, as if they were foreign. "Yo, Eth." I snap my finger, breaking his gaze.

"Yeah? Oh, I have a tracker." Ethan tugs at his sweatpants so it rides up and I see that stupid thing around his ankle. "Oh, how fun." I wince and shut the door.

"I don't know how to feel right now." Ethan murmurs as I pull out of the parking lot and swerve out of that damn prison. He looks like he's gonna cry, so I clear my throat. "Honey, put on your seat belt," I pat his shoulder.

"Fuck that." Ethan says as he rolls the window down and sticks his head out. I watch a smile spread across his face as the wind blows through his hair. "It's been so long," Ethan leans back into his seat and closes his eyes.

"I know."

I watch him flick the radio on and go through a bunch of stations. Drake comes on and he stops to turn up the volume. "Missed listening to actual music," he sighs. I turn away so he doesn't see how I want to cry.

The constant reminders of how he's just a normal teenage boy pains me.

"Where are we going?" Ethan sets his hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly. I pull over on the side of the road. "I don't really know." I muse. He opens the door. "Switch places, I'm driving. I'm going to take my girlfriend on a date.

I watch as he turns back into traffic. Ethan keeps his eyes on traffic while talking. One hand rests on my thigh gently, I avert my gaze to his other arm, draped over the steering wheel lazily.

Ethan pulls his hand away from me and turns into the parking lot of the mall, he braces his free arm against my seat as he turns around to make sure we reverse into the lot properly.

And for some fucking reason, I get emotional over Ethan Dolan driving a car.

He cuts the engine. "Okay, we are here-" he turns to me. "Why are you crying?"

"What? No, I'm not crying." I flush.

"There's mascara running down you face," Ethan wipes his thumb under my eye.

"Oh, let's just get on with whatever you wanna do." I wipe at my eyes.

"I wanna grab pizza, bring you to a move. I don't know what movie is on now, so we will just watch whatever." He plants a kiss on my forehead.

"Part 2 of Mockingjay is out." I shrug, "and my best friend bailed on me, so let's watch that."

"I only got to watch the first Hunger Games, you know, before I went to jail." He slips his arm around my waist as we walk into the mall.

"Time moves so slow in jail it's like the world moves on without you."

We get pizza and we watch the movie. And I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying every five minutes. Because of Ethan, not the movie.