The Georgia Rule

Chapter Four

Before me stood an adept line up of cars, all painted in a variety of flamboyant colours that sparkled in the sun, with heavily tinted windows that were way beyond the legal allowance.

All except one.

The car that was directly in front of me was coated in a deep blue that bordered black and seemed to rev their engine louder than the others. While all signs pointed to scurry away, I was curious as to why these cars were here of all places.

Walking towards the car, I cringed at the clamour of the cars’ engines. I timidly knocked on the glass and waited for the driver to notice me, however he failed to do so.

Pressing my face against the window, I tapped harder on the glass in growing annoyance while Winnie squirmed beneath my arms. After a few seconds of my incessant tapping on the windows, I threw all common sense out of the window and pulled on the door handle, ignoring the blistering heat that scorched my palm.

“What the heck is wrong with you?!” The owner of the smoky voice was positioned in the driver’s seat, and my eyes greedily drunk in his appearance. I followed my line of sight from his dark brown hair that bordered black, down his structured jawline that was partially hidden beneath approximately one week’s worth of dark brown scruff.

Jared had always been a man of few facial hairs. As odd as it sounded, he was unable to grow more than a few stray strands of facial hair, much to his dismay. The stranger before me, however, seemed to make the otherwise atrocious and unruly trait for a guy my age, appealing.

I had always been adamant that a man should have a clean, shaven face, because in my opinion, having an unkept face was a tell-tale sign of laziness. I immediately scrunched my nose up despite the way his scruff had made him undeniably attractive.

“Me? What the heck is wrong with you?!” came my, oh so clever reply.  “Who in the world parks their car in here?” I asked incredulously, my voice rising a few increasingly annoying octaves.  The stranger turned his calculating face in my direction and narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

“You need to leave. Like now.” He said in a clipped voice. With that, another round of boisterous revving of engines followed, including the car that I was at.

“No” I said defiantly, “What are you guys doing in here?” I partially yelled over the sound of the engines. The intervals between the thunderous revving had become non-existent, leaving an endless stream of clamour in its wake.

The stranger mumbled profanities under his breath and kept looking between an unknown object through the windscreen of his car and myself, with his knuckles turning ghastly pale from clutching onto the steering wheel. I followed his line of vision and my eyes zeroed in on an electric timer that I hadn’t noticed before. The neon red dots had formed the numbers two and one, and I cocked my head in confusion.

Before I could ask the meaning, the stranger’s sharp, cerulean eyes met mine. The solidifying hold that had held my mind prisoner did not last long, for within a few short seconds, he leaned forward and a firm, calloused hand clasped around my own and forcefully tugged me forward.

I tightly hugged Winnie to my chest as I ungracefully stumbled forward and into the car. My head hit the unforgiving metal above the door, and a sharp pain resonated on my forehead. I didn’t hit my head too bad; however I was almost certain that there would be a minor bruise in the morning.

I whipped my head towards the person who had previously man handled me and adjusted my body onto the seat. “What do you think you’re doing?” I yelled, my voice hoarse from exertion and partial dehydration. “Do you realize that I can and will sue you for physical harassment?” My blood boiled and I was positive that the tint on my cheeks had nothing to do with the scorching heat outside.