Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 6

The night before the broadcast, Caroline, Ian, and I were hanging out at the office, talking. More, they were talking about when they grew up together and I was listening, joining in when something hilarious arose. It was sometime between the story of him trying to kiss her (and was slapped across the face) and Ian revealing her fiery college breakups—one of which actually involved fire—she asked, “Abs, is there anything you’ve wanted to do since—you know?”

I thought about it a moment. The only thing I could think of was what I had done in the past when things were so unbelievably screwed up it felt like I had no other choice. “Run away.”

She tapped her chin, thinking. “Well, I can’t condone running away, but I know somewhere you can drive really fast, if that helps anything.” Before I could say anything, she said, “Give it some thought. We’ll chat some more for now.”

That was when Ian cut in with the story of Caroline’s worst break up. According to him, she was so pissed about it, she nearly burned down the dorm. Of course she denied it was ever that serious, but he just kept nodding. So as payback, she spilled about his thirteen totaled vehicles—in the same year—though he insisted it was only eight. More stories followed with more disagreements on how true each was. It was entertaining to say the least, keeping a smile on my lips as I listened.

At the end of the night, Ian asked, “You sure you don’t want me to take her?”

“I’m sure.” Facing me, she said, “I’ll drive down there, but then it’s all you.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing from one to the other.

“She’s taking you to the old highway,” Ian offered. “It’s not really used anymore, but it’s not in half bad condition.”

“And the cops aren’t usually over there, either. So the speed limit is whatever you want it to be.”

“I don’t know—”

“You wanted to run away?” Caroline held my gaze in such a way that threatened to pummel me if I wasn’t honest.

“Yes.”

“This is as close to it as I can condone,” she said, dragging me toward a Mercedes Benz. “So don’t say you don’t know or thank you or any of that crap until after you’ve driven. It’ll either help you or do nothing.”

With that, she sped away through town, turning the radio up as if anticipating complaints. I wasn’t going to try complaining, though. After how I had acted whenever she was doing something I didn’t want her to—even if it was for my benefit—it was reasonable she’d expect some kind of resistance.

Caroline didn’t pull over until we’d been heading down a dark road for a few minutes.

“Your turn;” she climbed out and half-jogged to the passenger side.

She watched as I buckled in and figured out where everything was. It was strange how desolate it was out here, especially because the city wasn’t that far away. Another strange thing was that I hadn’t driven in as long as I hadn’t had a purse.

I accelerated until I was at 60 miles an hour, figuring driving was kind of like riding a bike. “Faster,” she instructed and I obeyed, the fleeting feeling of danger filling my chest, quickly replaced by thrill.

The faster I went, the more I thought about what I was doing. Was I really trying to get away from him? I wanted to run, but what was I running from? Or was that all together the wrong question? Inside, it felt like I wasn’t running away, but running towards something. There wasn’t anything to run from, when I thought about it. If I wanted to fix anything, all of that was behind me, along with the only support system I had anymore.

What if I was running towards him? The version of him in my dreams, who loved me still? That reminded me of Mom and if I was running towards what I was supposed to do. Or Dad and what I had left behind all those years ago.

And then I had to ask myself if I even wanted any of that. When I had left, I left because I was alone and scarred by classmates. What I was supposed to do, what did that have to do with anything? Everyone had been talking about it for so long I believed it was important. But what use was it if I didn’t have anything left for myself afterwards? And did I really want him to love me again? Did I? After I had done everything he had ever asked of me and he kicked me to the curb as if I was just some beggar who was bothering him? Was that the kind of person I wanted in my life? Nick may have lied to me, but he would have listened. But how could I be sure about that even? I had thought Drei would have listened, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at me; he didn’t even treat me like a person.

“Abriel!” Caroline was shouting beside me, breaking through my racing thoughts. Glancing at the speedometer, I couldn’t even tell how fast I was going. Everything was blurry, even the road in front of me. My cheeks were flaming and wet. “Pull over,” she said, rapidly hitting the dash with an open palm.

Hitting the brakes, I tried to stop the tears that were already overwhelming me. The moment the car was stopped, Caroline reached over and turned off the ignition as I struggled free from my seatbelt and jumped out of the car, needing air. Needing answers. In need of something I couldn’t have.

“Abs,” she called after me, but my feet just kept moving, stumbling along beneath me. It didn’t matter where anymore. The tears were too thick for me to see anything. “Abs—Abriel, stop,” she begged, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me to a standstill. I turned into her embrace and cried onto her shoulder. Rubbing my back, she whispered, “It’s all right. It’ll be all right.”

She didn’t ask, but later I would sit down with her and explain. It was the first time she didn’t press for answers about what was wrong, and it would be the first time I would really tell her anything. What I said was “I love him more than anything in the world, but loving him isn’t what’s hurting me. Wanting him back in my life is what’s hurting me. So, I’ve decided, no matter how much I want him to love me again, I can’t have someone in my life who can hurt me that much.”

Caroline reached across the table and squeezed my hand, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Then I’ll support you,” she said, her voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the few tears I had left in me tumble down my cheeks. Despite being the cause of my problems, she gave me something I had been missing, regardless how many times I pushed her away. She gave me a friend.