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It’s happening.
I breathe out my answer with so much relief it’s all I can do not to sob right here in front of him. “One way, please.”
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just glances at the wall then back at me and the money there.
“Boston,” he says with a nod. “This will take you to Boston.”
“This one includes your lunch since it’s a long ride over mealtime.”
I nod excitedly. Food is a bonus.
“Safe travels,” he says, giving me a look that says he doesn’t think I’m capable of it.
I am, though.
I’m capable of lots of things.
I take the ticket and turn around, almost bumping into Quinn.
“I think he was hitting on you,” she hisses at me.
“He didn’t hit me!” I respond, appalled at the very idea.
“Oh my God, you’re adorable and maddening at the same time.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t sayhityou. I saidhitting onyou. It means he thinks you’re hot.”
I look down at my faded skirt and shake my head.
Me?
I look back at the elderly attendant, clearly a senior citizen with graying hair and glasses on the tip of his nose.
“Are you crazy?” I ask her.
“Oh my God, you need to learn how to take a joke. Grandpa probably has a wife and ten kids.”
I’m glad for her sake she thinks that means he wouldn’t use me.
We take seats together near the middle of the bus. A cluster of raucous men come on the bus behind her, laughing and jeering and reeking of alcohol. They look a bit older than I am, dressed in college jerseys and sweats. I stare. They’re big and brawny, and nothing like the men I grew up with. I squirm when one of them looks my way.
“Look, Brad, you thought the ride home would be boring,” one guy says. “But we get to sit right near the pretty girls.”
I blink in surprise when I realize they’re talking about Quinn andme.
Pretty girl.
I wish the window next to me reflected more than my wide eyes and pale face. Pretty? Am I pretty?
No one has ever in my life called me a pretty girl. Humility is one of the basic tenets of my upbringing, and I have never thought of myself aspretty.
It’s a bit unnerving, but I’m strangely flattered. It doesn’t matter that these men are obviously inebriated and probably hadn’t even gone tobedthe night before.
“Hands off, frat boy, this chick’s mine,” Quinn says staunchly. She crosses her arms on her chest.
“Oh, so we’re gonna play it that way,” one of the guys says, shaking his head. “Let’s go to the back, boys.”
They manage to stumble their way to the back of the bus. “Do you trust everyone you see?” Quinn narrows her eyes at me. “You look so sweet and innocent, and I need to know just exactly how much I’m gonna have to tuck you under my wing.”
I look out the window and swallow the lump in my throat before I answer.
