Chapter 13
1574 Words
Elena
“I just feel so sorry for the girl, you know?” A feminine voice recaches off the walls in the restroom.
“Oh, I know,” another girl gasps. “I mean, I don’t think I’d be able to survive losing my father. A drive-by shooting...” I watch as the dark-haired girl clutches her makeup bag. “So awful.”
“Yeah, well, your mom is crazy so I can understand why you wouldn’t survive,” a brunette says.
Huddled in the stall, yet again, in the school’s bathroom, I overhear more of the same words I’ve been hearing behind my back. I peek through the gap of the stall door and sigh silently - at least they aren’t spreading rumors necessarily… still, I need to stop using the facilities here.
Nothing good ever comes from the women's restrooms in this school.
“I’ve heard that she has no one to live with. No grandparents, nothing,” the dark-haired girl empathizes.
The brunette shrugs her slim shoulders. “She must be living with someone. I’d hate the idea that she’s living in her house all by herself. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great that she has a job. But McDonald's? I’m sorry, there’s no way she’s making enough to take care of the mortgage and bills.” She brushes her hair off her shoulder. “Besides, I heard she quit.”
“Yeah, there’s no way.” The dark-haired girl pauses in thought. “Maybe that boyfriend of hers is paying for things. I haven’t seen him at school. Maybe he dropped out and is working somewhere fulltime to take care of her.”
The brunette puts a dainty hand over her heart. “Oh, that would be so sweet. But didn’t you hear? That man is totally available now.”
“What?” The dark-haired girl gasps.
“Yeah, apparently, that Elise girl broke up with him after the funeral. So sad.” The other one pouts.
The dark-haired girl smacks the lip gloss on her lips and says, “Don’t let Ashley find out. That girl will snag him up and spit him out before next Thursday.” The girls chuckle to themselves.
I can’t take this anymore. I flush, just to make noise, then open the stall door and notice two frozen faces in the mirror with eyes locked on me. Paying no attention, I walk up in between them and wash my hands while they stand there in awkward silence.
With a tight smile, I grab some paper towel then make my way to the door. I throw the towel away and meet their stunned gazes.
In the sweetest sarcastic way possible, I tell them, “Actually, I’m not living alone. Believe it or not, I’m staying with a friend of the family. McDonald's felt so sorry for me that they’ve allowed me to take some time off. Anything else you would like to know? Anything that isn’t any of your damn business?”
Tentatively they shake their heads. I turn on my heel and march out the door of the ladies’ bathroom.
Oreo is going to get an earful today.
In my last session, I promised Oreo that I was going to be different. I was going to become Elena two-point-O and not let what happened to my life define me. Not having a strong backbone for most of my life got me nowhere. I’ve decided to fight back. If I fought Michael or my dad harder, then maybe - just maybe, he would still be alive, and I would have never gotten in so deep with that green-eyed troublemaker.
I huff and slam my locker closed. What’s the point? Seriously. What’s the point in going to school anymore? I have good grades; I have no idea how that’s happened. The past two weeks I’ve been a zombie -maybe that’s how…
Wake up, force some sort of particle of nutrition down my throat, go to school, do homework, press ignore on my phone from Michael’s calls, talk to Oreo, then repeat.
I suppressed my feelings, suppressed emotions from my life. Is this how I’m supposed to move on? Am I even doing that right?
My feet carry me to my car. I don’t remember leaving the building, but here I am. There’s still half a school day left…
Screw it.
Unlocking the car, I get in, swing my bag to the passenger seat, turn the ignition, roll the windows down, and turn the radio up. I spin my tires and escape the parking lot without looking back.
I’ve always been a rule follower and never thought of ditching before. Adrenaline is coursing my blood and I’m starting to feel human again. If adrenaline is what I need, then so be it.
There’s time before my next session with Oreo, so I decide to take a turn onto an old highway and start at ten miles over the speed limit. I’ve never sped, always been too scared, but the rush that I’m starting to feel throughout my body is electrifying.
Fifteen over the speed limit. The hum of the engine is louder, the power from the wheel lures me in. It’s just a straight road, no curves, no hills, just straight asphalt calling out my name to go faster.
Twenty over the speed limit. It’s a fifty mile an hour speed zone. It’s like that time when Michael took me on that moonshine run and we escaped the police. I frown and press the pedal down further. Michael has no room in my day today. Today is about me, not about missing him.
Thirty over the limit. Holy hell! I’m going eighty. Must go faster.
Forty-five over the limit. I’m speeding down the road, the radio is blaring a Def Leopard song – a little bit of Michael has rubbed off on me. I chide myself every day for it, but I can’t seem to find the strength to turn the station.
There’s a strange noise filling in the space between the break in the music and the wind blowing around in the cab. Am I laughing?
I am. There’s a strange tug on my lips as I laugh and zip down the road going ninety-five miles an hour in a fifty mile an hour zone.
Alive. I feel alive.
A reflective blue light shines a pattern in my rearview mirror followed by the sound of a siren.
Dagflabbit.
There’s a part of me that debates. If I really want an adrenaline rush, I can always get myself involved with a highspeed car chase…
I frown at my inability to give in to the darker side with both feet.
Baby steps.
I slow down while rolling up my windows and pull over, then wait patiently for the police officer to knock on my window. Keeping my hands at ten and two, I close my eyes and let my actions sink in. There’s no way I’ll be let go with a warning. I was deliberately speeding.
Knock.
I turn my head and see Officer Malone.
Wonderful. In reaching for the window switch, I roll the window down then smile innocently. “Is there a problem, Officer?” I can literally hear my dad growl his two cents of not being impressed.
But he’s not here.
Officer Malone gives me a tight smile. “Hello, Elena. Can I see your license and registration please?”
“The license is in my bag and the registration is in the glove compartment. Is it okay to reach for them?” I ask.
My dad has always taught me at a young age to offer as much information as possible to a police officer before acting, to ensure safety for all people present.
She nods and I proceed for the items she asked for, then hand them to her.
“Do you realize how fast you were going, Miss Cochran?” She questions me without looking at my license.
“Do you really have to be so formal? You know who I am, you’re one of the officers investigating my dad’s death for crying out loud.” I am irritated, although I can’t figure out why…maybe it’s because she crashed my adrenaline rush…
“Elena, please step out of the vehicle.”
“Why?” I protest.
Her face gets grave. “Get out of the vehicle,” she demands.
I exaggerate an eye roll, bring my window up, and step out of the car with my keys. She takes them, then looks me in the eye. “What’s going on?”
My eyes avert away from her. “Nothing,” I lie.
“You do realize that for going that fast, I need to take you in.”
My gaze cuts to hers. “What? That doesn’t make sense. I just need a ticket.”
She sadly shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but you were going ninety-five miles an hour in a fifty zone. You’re giving me attitude, and frankly, I’m not sure you’re in the right mindset to be driving right now. I think Carol should take you home.”
“That’s bull-“
“Elena. I’m doing you a favor here. Now, turn around and put your hands on the hood.” Her tone leaves no room to argue.
I get it. I was being reckless; I’m a reckless driver. Reckless drivers go to the slammer.
- Writer
