I pinched my leg and took a deep breath as I laid my head against Charlie’s back. I’d never imagined that I’d be here again, riding on the back of his motorcycle. If it had been up to me, I would’ve gone forever without looking at him again, much less wrapping my arms around his waist.
Nothing in my life seemed to make sense anymore. My entire life I’d done all the right things, followed all the rules, and tried to keep the peace at home—and all it had taken was one month to screw all of that up. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking, running around with Charlie like some woman of the world.
I wasn’t a woman of the world. I was a girl, a stupid girl, and now I was on my way to God knew where with a man who didn’t even want me with him. How had it come to this?
I wished that I could go back to that first night when I’d heard Charlie grilling in his mom’s back yard, his laughter drifting in the kitchen window. I should have never gone outside, never walked over to the fence to get a better look at him, never stared at the bright white smile that made my belly fill with butterflies, never introduced myself. There were a hundred things that I would change if I had the opportunity.
I caught myself as I started to slip sideways, and even though it was impossible, I could’ve swore I heard Charlie swear.
Five minutes later we’d pulled into the parking of a sleazy motel right off the highway.
“You can’t keep ridin’ tonight,” he said as he climbed off the bike. “We’ll crash here tonight and head out in the morning.”
“I’m okay,” I argued, flexing my freezing cold fingers. I should’ve tucked them into his shirt like he’d taught me to keep them warm, but I hadn’t been able to make myself do it. There was a line, it may have been blurry, but it was there—and I wasn’t going to cross it. He was doing me a favor. That was it. His skin was no longer mine to touch, it really hadn’t ever been mine.
“You’re not,” he said, using both hands to smooth his hair from his face. “I can’t pay attention when you’re fallin’ off the bike every twenty-minutes, even if you catch yourself. There’s deer and all sorts of other shit that would lay us out if we hit them.”
“We aren’t far enough away,” I said, hating the fear in my voice. “We need to keep going.”
Charlie looked at me for a long moment before speaking. “No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “Can’t do it. I’ll get us a room and we’ll head out early.”
“Do you want to go to jail?” I asked, my voice rising with frustration. “Every cop in the state is going to be looking for us.”
“Not until tomorrow,” Charlie snapped, taking a step toward me. “If you keep your goddamn voice down. You wanna draw attention to yourself?”
“I’m sorry,” I replied through gritted teeth, glancing around the quiet parking lot. “There’s no one out here.”
“There will be if you keep fuckin’ yellin’. Just stay here and be quiet, alright? I’m gonna get us a room.”
I nodded. I wouldn’t say a word about sharing a room even though the thought of it filled me with dread. I couldn’t afford a room of my own, Gran had barely given me enough to get on my feet when I got to a place I could hide out for a while. Charlie was doing me a huge favor and I needed to remember that.
I told myself it was no big deal when he came back with a key and led me to a room on the ground floor. I reminded myself that I didn’t have any money when I saw the single queen sized bed in the middle of the room. When I went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet so he wouldn’t hear me pee, I repeated over and over that I was lucky that Charlie had agreed to bring me anywhere, considering the fact that my mother had him arrested.
None of it helped. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I stood up to wash my hands at the sink. I’d seen my face at Gran’s, but the fluorescent hotel lighting made the bruises around my eyes and cuts on my cheek and brow seem so much more grotesque. I looked like I should be in a hospital, not in a random motel room that smelled like stale cigarette smoke and dirty socks.
“You okay in there?” Charlie called, knocking on the door.
“I’ll be right out,” I called back, my voice cracking.
I didn’t want to go back out. I didn’t want to be there at all. Closing my eyes, I thought about my bedroom, the bed I’d had since I was little, the calendar on the wall that was filled with random events and doodles, the desk where I kept my yearbooks and notes from friends. Shame filled me, because even though me dad was awful, scary and mean and dangerous, a part of me still wanted to go home where everything was familiar. I missed my house and my parents and Gran. I missed Gran most of all.