【Josh】
“Are you done?” I said, running my fingers through my hair. I really had to get this whole thing over with, and just get the money. This was turning out way more complicated than I’d ever expected. She was back from the restroom – finally, but it was kind of obvious she’s been crying. I felt guilty. I had to lie to her, to get her to co-operate. I could see she wouldn’t let her Dad give me the money any other way.
I didn’t mention it, though. I just stared straight ahead, trying to push down the uncomfortable feeling, as she opened the car door and got in.
“Where do you want to make the call?” I asked, not looking at her at first, but my gaze couldn't help but fall onto her face when she stayed silent – something she usually didn’t do. Immediately, I drew a breath in shock. She looked pretty, even after crying. Her red lips were full and parted slightly, her eyelashes thick and dark – so long, that when she looked down, they brushed against her cheek – and her eyes…her beautiful, sky-blue eyes that saw the world in an innocent, naive way that eluded me.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious. She wiped her mouth against her sleeve, frowning. “Have I got food on my face?” I couldn’t help but smile. She had to be the only girl who thought that when they caught a guy looking at them.
“Yeah,” I said. She did have some muffin crumbs on her face.
She wiped her face with the back of her wrist.
“Did I get it?” she asked, staring at me with wide eyes.
“No,” I said, sighing and reaching over. “It’s on the other cheek.”
I brushed my hand against her face, stroking her soft skin with my finger. Then I suddenly realized what I was doing.
“I’m sorry,” I said, jumping away. “I’m sorry I–”
“It’s alright,” London replied, biting her lip, as her cheeks flushed red.
An awkward silence filled the car. I pushed down the throttle, gently pressed my foot down on the pedal. We drove. I didn’t know where we were going – not yet. London was still blushing, and wouldn’t make eye-contact with me – a first. Maybe she was…?
There was another gas station ahead, and I pulled over. She finally looked up at me.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, smiling.
“Finally.”
***
(London)
I chomped on my cucumber and tomato sandwich, and eyed Josh as he went to the payphone, with my “Dad’s” number. Ha. I bet he’ll have a real long conversation with Joe, the guy who answered China Palace’s take-out line.
“London!” Josh yelled, coming back. He looked kind of pissed, and was waving around the paper I’d written my “Dad’s” number on. “What the hell is this?”
I finished the rest of my sandwich, and looked at him, my eyes widening innocently.
“What?”
“That’s not your Dad’s bloody number!” he yelled. “Give it to me!”
I bit my lip, trying to look clueless.
“I…gave you his number. Why are you yelling at me…?”
“Look, London,” Josh said, bringing his gun out. “Tell me right now. Tell me, or I’ll shoot you in the head.”
I sighed, and relaxed into the chair, reaching into my pocket to get the emergency chocolate bar. I ripped off the wrapper, bit into the top, watching his face carefully. He wasn’t giving up with the whole “scare London” thing.
He pressed the gun right into my temple, and pulled on the safety.
He wasn’t going to do it…he couldn’t do it. I believed in him…Wait a second! OH MY GOD!
“Your gun is dripping water on my face,” I said, biting another chunk of the chocolate bar. It’d melted a little in my pocket, but it was still good. “Could you point it away, please.”
Josh finally dropped the act, and pushed the gun back into his pocket, looking kind of ashamed of himself.
“If you were going to threaten me with a water pistol, you could at least have emptied the barrel. That’s just embarrassing, you know, for you.”
“Could you have at least pretended to be scared? It hurts my ego.”
I’d finished the chocolate bar, and was licking the wrapper (okay, sounds gross, but tell me that you don’t do it as well).
“I have to admit, you were an amazing actor. But I have the same water pistol at home. You could at least have gotten a real gun with no bullets in, or something.”
He frowned, and turned away.
“What’s your Dad’s number?” he finally asked. “We both need to get this over with. Don't you want to go home?”
No.
“But the thing is, I don’t really know his number. The only number I’ve ever bothered to memorize is the number I just gave you. The number to the Chinese food place.”
“Figures,” he muttered to himself. Then, louder, “How did you contact your Dad?”
“I had his number on my cell. Which you made me trash when you kidnapped me.”
His shoulders drooped, and for a second, I felt bad for the guy.
“You’re meant to be a kidnapper. Why the hell didn’t you do any research?”
He grimaced.
“Look,” I said, “it’s getting kind of dark. Can’t we find another hotel to crash in tonight, and sort it our tomorrow? I’m pretty sure we could get his contact details on the internet somewhere.”
He nodded, and climbed back into the car, shifting uncomfortably. Then he reached down to pat at the seat.
“Why are there so many crumbs on my seat?” he asked, glaring at me.
“The wind…blew some crumbs…on to, er, your seat.”
“Really? I was thinking you put the crust from your sandwich on my seat. That would explain the bread I’m sitting on.”
“No. That was the wind as well.”
“So the wind left sandwich crusts on my seat?”
“Uh huh.”
He looked like he was about to hit me for a second, then he did the most surprising thing – he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, when the laughter had gone on for way too long to be considered normal. “Hey! Stop laughing. What the hell is so funny?”
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, and tried to calm down.
“Nothing,” he told me, giving me a big smile that made my heart thump harder.
“Alright then,” I muttered, turning away to hide my blush. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I blushing so much? Crap! I glanced back at him, and he was still looking at me, smiling, making me blush some more.
The moment was broken by the nee-naw-nee-naw of the police siren. Slowly, we both turned around.
I had no idea what was going on, but I’m pretty sure the police were after us. Well, Josh.
“Drive!” I yelled, and Josh complied, slamming his foot down on the pedal. We were gone.
***
“Bet you’re glad stole a good car now. If we were in your crappy car, we would’ve been caught by now.”
“Shush.”
“This is kind of fun,” I said, trying to find the pack of Oreos I’d hidden in the boot compartment. “Oh look, a helicopter.” I pointed at the helicopter that seemed to be joining the police in the high-speed car chase.
“How did they find us?” Josh screamed, pushing even harder on the gas pedal, as hard as he dared to go without crashing. And dying.
“Maybe when you called the take-out place. They can trace calls, you know. What exactly did you say to Joe? Did you mention the fact that you kidnapped me?”
“I don’t know! I can’t remember!” But the look on his face said, “Yes.”
“Well, there you go.”
“How the hell are you so calm?!” he yelled over the helicopter blade noises, swerving to overtake a big truck. We had to be going at least 140 right now. The truck honked and the guys in it yelled.
“It's not me that they want to arrest,” I pointed out. Damn. Where were my Oreos? I looked up at the helicopter, which was loud, but keeping a safe distance. They had a camera. “Oh, look. They’re filming us. I think we’re going to be on the news.” Josh swore.
“Do something about them!” he yelled, trying to keep us on the road (and alive). We went around a really tight bend, and I smashed against the door.
“Crap,” I winced, rubbing my arm. “You want me to do something about them? Fine.”
I rolled down the window, and yelled at the helicopter two words a lovely, rich girl was never meant to say, ever. Especially on national television.
“Fuck off!” I yelled, leaning out of the window. In case I wasn’t clear enough, or my voice had been whipped away by the wind, I used one of my fingers to demonstrate the sign that meant the same thing. My hair whipped around my face, and wind rushed against my skin, and so I only stayed in that pose for a few seconds, just to make sure the camera filmed it right, before I drew back in, and rolled up the window.
Ha. That should ruin my Dad’s whole story about how I was kidnapped.
I looked at Josh, who wasn’t really concentrating on the driving now, but staring at me.
“Wow,” he said, looking at me. “That was so cool.”
“Eyes on the road!”
“Shit! Sorry.”
Author's Note: JOSH'S PART!!! xxx I wasn't sure how a guy thinks...so... hope you like :) VOMMENT XXX