Fitting because in my high school, that was the name we had for slutty girls. Buckets. Megan? Definite bucket.
About Megan? I only met her two weeks ago. We were having a laugh; she was a fun distraction at work, one of those inappropriately funny girls with absolutely zero filter. She made my days go by faster despite a lot of schlepping and many roadblocks to get things just right for our grand opening. I found it surprising she was in management based on how she acted, but I’ve had all sorts of drama in my regular life so working with her was a fun distraction. I let myself get charmed into this weekend. And she charmed me all right because I have a car and she doesn’t. She insisted it’d be well worth the drive and the $200 and said she’d fill my gas tank, which she did. Megan said her friend organized these parties all the time and I was going to have a blast.
I queried that I thought she said it was her cousin and she waved it off that he’s practically a cousin. This was my first red flag. Too bad I ignored it. She told me he organized these parties regularly and rented swanky places for them. He’s had writeups in the club scene because his parties are that legendary. He’s had two couples get married in the past year who met at his parties. He usually charges $300 per person or more, she said, but she got me the friends and family deal.
She also said we were lucky to get this invite because usually his parties had a long wait list, but this one came up last minute. She said she was done a favor by him – we got to jump a long line.
After working our asses off at the boutique gearing up for the grand opening, which happens in a few days, this getaway was to be our reward.
I just got myself transferred to the new location because it was way closer to my apartment and while I got promoted to assistant manager, Megan got transferred from yet another location where she was already an assistant manager. We’d work different shifts but were on the same rung of the corporate ladder. The busyness and drama of the past few weeks had been exhausting. The getaway I let myself get talked into because I had a bad argument with my family over bullshit to do with my Bridezilla sister’s upcoming wedding, being tired of the tug of war between my recently separated parents, and my recent breakup and mostly because I felt like living it up and letting loose for once. I guess my judgement was clouded.
My bad. Because my judgement about Megan was clearly way, way off. She manipulated me. She didn’t care that we were the only girls and I suspected if she did know, she left that detail out worried she’d lose out on her ride there as well as have me asking for my two hundred bucks back.
Ridiculous. I wasn’t usually one to slut shame, but she only just met those guys. And she was being competitive. I knew it three minutes into arriving that she wanted to be the one they looked at. She’s attractive, but she’s one of those girls who needs to know she’s the most desired girl in the room.
Thankfully once the store opened, I wouldn’t have to interact with her much.
***
And now here I am, driving down a long and winding road in a densely forested rural area miles from any semblance of civilization. It’s dark. No street lights. These roads are not maintained, and I don’t even feel safe on them. Despite lack of streetlights, though, it’s already after nine o’clock and while dark, the moon seems exceptionally bright and it’s taking up what seems like a whole lot of space in the sky.
I have no signal on my phone and even my GPS won’t pick up my location. This was the road I took in, I’m sure I’m backtracking, which would mean I’ll get back to the gas station where we met Grizzly Grisly any minute now. From there, I can find my way back to the highway and I’m sure to have a cell signal again.
Ten Minutes Later…
Still no sign of that gas station. Or even another road. I’m driving slowly and carefully on this road, but it’s like it’ll never end. I’m sure I wasn’t on it this long on the way in. It makes no sense.
Out of nowhere, I see something large and dark in my headlights coming at me. It’s as if my headlights go extra bright for an instant, too bright for my own eyes, and as I squint I catch the flash of reflective eyes, but not on a cat, a big animal and at that same instant, hear the clunk of the animal sailing up my hood. Hard.