Chapter 4 Sophie
FOUR
SOPHIE
It was foolish of me to think I could just get in the vehicle of a complete stranger and immediately be up to the life that awaits me outside. But instead of losing myself to these thoughts, I take one last look into Cole’s gray eyes and swallow hard. Then I nod and close the door.
As soon as I turn away, he drives off. I don’t turn around again. Because although he took me with him and even gave me some money, he made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want me with him.
Well, what did I expect? Did I really think I would be taken in like a stray dog? That he would take me to his home and explain this world that’s so foreign to me?
God, I’m so naive…
Taking a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders once again and then head for the tiny building with a sign over the window that says tickets. Entirely overwhelmed by the impressions crashing down on me, I crumple the bills in my hand as I look around.
A huge truck passes by on the road. People are everywhere, running around or talking to one another.
It’s so loud here—quite the opposite of our garden, where there is only the sound from the adjoining forest. Here and there, words flash on big colored signs that are attached to the facades of houses, and I don’t even know where to look because it is all so much.
I stop and close my eyes for a moment.
They drive everywhere. You just have to think of a place you want to go to.
Cole’s words run through my head, and I have to swallow hard again.
Where do I want to go? And why didn’t I think about what to do after I ran away? I was so busy finally getting away that the where to never even crossed my mind.
A sob escapes me when I realize how careless I was.
How could I even think that it would be a good idea to march out into this world without spending one thought about where to go and what to do?
That was not only inconsiderate, it was reckless.
I want to slap myself for getting in that black pickup.
I lacked nothing. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and a mother who cared for me. And what do I have now? A few dollars and no idea where I want to go.
I regret running away. I regret seeing something in that truck just because it showed up four days in a row, thinking it was some sort of sign, believing that possibility would lead me to a new, exciting life.
Because right now, I just feel incredibly alone and lost. Not even the gentle voice in my head that says I wanted friends, adventures, and love can push back the desperation rising in my chest.
When the first tears run down my cheek, I wipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater and sniff loudly.
Crying won’t help me now. I have to decide what to do next.
To do that, however, I need to figure out what I want, but I don’t know anything right now.
Instead, I’m completely lost in this world that seemed so exciting in the books.
Once more, I wipe my face and blink away the last tears.
An older man sits inside the ticket booth. He’s wearing a dark-blue cap and looks bored, but I take a step toward him anyway. I’ll just go to him and ask where those buses are going. Then I’ll decide where I want to go.
When I’m halfway across the parking lot, a small group of young men approaches me. They’re laughing while holding something wrapped in brown paper in their hands.
My heartbeat quickens as I think of my mother’s words, but I force myself to push them away. Not all men are evil; that’s just not possible. Cole wasn’t, after all. He wasn’t particularly nice, either, but he didn’t do anything to me. Why should it be any different with these four men?
As our paths cross, they stop in front of me instead of stepping aside, so I can’t go any farther.
"Well, who do we have here?" one of them asks, looking at me with a kind smile. "You’re not from around here, are you?"
I return his smile gingerly. "No, not really."
He laughs and nudges one of his friends with his elbow, who’s joining his laughter before bringing the paper-wrapped something to his mouth. It looks like he’s drinking from it, and I involuntarily ask myself why someone would wrap a beverage in paper.
"Do you have any plans for tonight?"
I shake my head. "What are you drinking?"
He looks down at his hand before he returns my gaze and laughs again. "This? It’s… lemonade. Want some?"
"Why would you wrap lemonade in paper?" I ask bewilderedly, not responding to his words.
"Well, because it’s magic lemonade," he replies with a grin, holding it out to me. "It makes you happy."
"No, thank you."
He shrugs and takes a big gulp himself.
"Where are you headed?" one of his friends wants to know.
"I don’t know," I confess and throw a glance toward the ticket booth. "Where exactly do the buses go?"
The four look at each other in surprise, before the one who talked first answers with a smile. "Anywhere. But the next one won’t depart for a few hours. Do you want to come with us? We’re headed to Joe’s. You can keep us company."
"What’s Joe’s?"
His smile widens. "A diner."
I frown.
"You know… a diner. Those places where you eat burgers and pancakes and stuff. You’ve never been to one?"
I shake my head while my cheeks grow hot with redness.
"Well, then it’s time you catch up!"
"Hey, Mike… I don’t know if that’s a good idea," one of his friends cuts in, looking at me with a furrowed brow.
"Shut up, Stew. She can come. It’ll be fun," Mike states and throws a glance at his friend before smiling back at me. "So? You coming?"
I consider it for a moment and glance at the ticket booth once again. Then I look back at Mike. "Are you serial killers?"
All their eyes widen, before Stew curses quietly and the others burst out in laughter. Mike steps beside me and throws his arm around my shoulders. "No, sweetheart. We’re not serial killers. Don’t worry."
His touch isn’t uncomfortable, but where Cole’s hands made me feel hot and tingly as he helped me with the seat belt, Mike’s touch causes cold goosebumps to erupt on my skin. My stomach feels queasy, too, but I blame it on the hunger. After all, I skipped dinner.
When Mike starts to move, I let him lead me and go with him.
"What’s your name, sweetheart?" His hot breath brushes my cheek as he walks right next to me. I grimace because it smells kind of pungent and burns my nose.
"Sophie," I answer while we walk along the side of the road.
"And where are you from?"
Two of his friends walk in front of us, while Stew walks beside me on the other side but keeps some distance.
"Just nearby," I say vaguely.
Two blocks away, I can see a police car driving slowly down the road. Behind it is a dark pickup that immediately reminds me of Cole.
"This way," Mike says, guiding me down a narrow side street before I can worry further about Cole or see if it’s even the same vehicle.
A few minutes later, we arrive at a one-story building with a parking lot in front of it. A big glowing sign with the word 'Eleven' in front of what looks like a seven hangs above the entrance, and I wonder what that means.
"That’s a diner?" I ask, bewildered, when we enter the building, and look around.
Rows upon rows of shelves are filled to the brim with boxes, jars, bottles, and cans in every shape, color, and size imaginable.
Everywhere, people walk through the aisles, and at a strange table, a woman sits in front of a device that beeps constantly.
"This is a supermarket, isn’t it?" I say, while I let my gaze drift through the store.
Mike laughs beside me and pulls me through the labyrinth of aisles after his friends walk off in the opposite direction. "Yes. We’re just going to grab some more lemonade. You want something?"
"I don’t know," I say uncertainly. "I think I’d better save the money for the bus ticket."
Mike shrugs and makes his way back to the exit. I follow him while I’m completely overwhelmed by all the things surrounding us.
Shortly after we left the supermarket, his friends come out, too. Stew hands Mike a new bottle of lemonade, and he takes a long sip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Let’s go then," he says, beaming with joy, and I can’t help but smile too as we start moving.