Walk Of Shame
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
By some miracle, I managed to find my way back to the road on my own. Unfortunately, this was only one small fragment of a much larger problem.
There were so many excuses I had to choose from for not being able to remember where we parked the car. I could blame my overindulgence on both smoke and liquor, or the night for making everything look the same.
But neither of those reasons was the truth. The truth was that even sober I wouldn't have remembered.
The further I got, the thinner the crowd became. I could still hear the chaos, but it was behind me now, and what was out of my sight had no place in my overly crowded mind.
I walked along the shoulder of the road, letting the moon lead the way. I thought about joining one of the smaller groups that, like me, were braving the walk of shame. Even if they couldn't offer any assistance, at least I wouldn't be alone.
But I wasn't ready to hear the sound of my own voice or to even think. I just wanted to walk.
It was strange how unafraid I was. To have a field of tall grass at my side, strangers all around me, and the only source of light a small circle in the sky.
Nothing scared me now. My monsters didn't wait for sleep; they were with me all hours of the day. I didn't have the strength to hold them off anymore; every time I slayed one, three more heads grew back in their place.
My torment wasn't just confined to my body anymore; it was everywhere. On the endless winding road, in the sound of my feet crunching against the pavement. All of it was Julian and me.
Every part of us, the beginning and the end. The good and the bad. My mind wouldn't stop replaying it.
I saw the car's lights before I heard it. Briefly, the road was engulfed in light, and I could feel the swift momentum as it passed me by.
Like me, there was someone else walking alone a few feet ahead of me. I almost missed him. But just as the car sped off, I saw the flicker of white coming from his t-shirt.
"Hey!" My mouth spoke without thought. "Jackson!"
He must've recognized my voice, because I heard the gravel shift beneath his feet as he walked towards me.
When he was finally close enough to become a real person, rather than a large, shadowed figure, I flattened my lips into an almost smile.
He returned the gesture, and we continued on together.
"Did you get lost too?" I wouldn't have minded keeping things as they were—two people walking aimlessly into the night in complete silence.
But one of us was going to have to break the silence eventually, so I figured it was best to get it out of the way.
"Um, sort of." I couldn't see the bottle in his hands, but I could hear the liquid sloshing around as it moved back and forth from his lips to his side.
"After we grabbed Aiden's sweatshirt, they went back to the party. But I had to use the bathroom." He paused, hitting the bottle again. "And then everyone started running and yelling about the cops, so I just followed."
"Where'd you get the bottle from?" I hope Jackson hadn't been holding out on the rest of us. Especially after I so generously shared the last of my stash with him.
Another car raced past us, lighting up the glass in his hand. "People were just tossing their stuff into the field. This one was barely even touched."
He held it out towards me, offering me a taste of the mystery drink. The adrenaline had taken most of my intoxication with it, and what was left was just barely numbing me.
So, without thinking about it too hard, I took the bottle from him.
It was vodka. Really bad vodka. It didn't even have some—sad excuse for fruit—flavoring.
"It's gross, right?"
"Horrible." I agreed.
"It gets better after a while." He took the bottle back from me and went in for another sip. "Do you get service out here?"
"No."
I checked when I first hit the road, with no luck. Good connection didn't really qualify as a part of rural living. "Maybe we should go back and see if Nathan's still there."
With the extra pair of eyes, we might actually have a chance at finding the car.
"I doubt it." There was never any intonation spoken in Jackson's voice. His words always followed the same disinterested, monotone rhythm.
With each step, we were only traveling further away from any solutions. It was getting quieter now; even the groups around us weren't willing to venture as far as we had. "So what are we supposed to do?"
"Well, I was probably going to try and hitchhike."
I laughed. "Seriously?" He handed the bottle back to me. "What if you get kidnapped?"
"I mean, I just really don't feel like that would happen to me." The seriousness in his voice almost had me convinced that his plan was plausible.
I took another large, unbearable sip of the flavorless vodka and passed it back. "Well, okay." I picked up my pace, walking just fast enough so that I was ahead of him. "Since you're so sure."
I pointed my thumb out into the road, walking backwards in order to face Jackson.
"There aren't any cars." He laughed. "And I'm not gonna do it now."
It was like none of it had ever happened. The party, the cars, the crowd. We were so far from it now. The road had calmed to complete silence; you would've thought the rest of the world ceased to exist.
I returned to my spot at his side. "Why not?"
"Because you're here."
I sighed, knowing our options were terrifyingly limited. "So, what now?"
"I'm pretty sure there's a gas station further down the road. I thought I saw it on the way up here."
"You want to know what's crazy?" Jackson continued. "I didn't see any cop cars, did you?"
Images flooded my brain. I fought my way back to the hazy memory—the screaming as people pushed through the crowd, strands of red hair before I lost them, Julian's hand wrapped in his pawns as they ran together. But not one single cop car.
Eighteen © Wordstothewise ™ 2024
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