The delay of the passing ponygirl team forces me to mentally slow down and think. It’s like I’m getting one last chance. I can still turn the car around, go back, remain part of this world. Mr. Rose will be livid, Ms. Lynn will go ballistic and Mr. Palmer will be even icier than before, but I’d still be one of them. It’s not too late.
Paul recognizes me, plainly shocked. He reins in the ponygirls, their bit filled mouths protesting against all these sudden starts and stops. He jumps down, whip in hand.
I look in the rear view mirror. Raymond approaches too, yelling my name, a large paddle in his hand. Soon he and Paul will have me boxed in.
Suddenly I know. The only way I’m going back is if they drag me.
I hit the gas and burn rubber.
What do I do? No ID, little cash. It’s not like my
