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CHAPTER NINE. WELCOME TO WASHINGTON D.C.
AMELIA'S another century car was trying its best to stay alive as Monika pressed the accelerator harder. Amelia, strapped in the passenger seat, caught her head in her hands. Between the beastly growl of the vehicle and Gemma's helicopter fretting over the way Amelia had packed, the black-haired girl was sure she was about to have an aneurysm.
"Amy," Gemma said, poking Amelia's shoulder incessantly from the backseat. "Amy. Amy. Amyyyy ─ "
Amelia groaned. "What?" she said.
"Why didn't you let me pack for you?" Gemma asked.
Amelia perked up in an instant, looking around. "Do you hear that sound?" she asked.
Gemma, eyebrows knitted in confusion, looked around, too. "What sound?"
"Do you hear it? Listen." She tapped her ear with her index finger. "It's the sound of me ignoring you."
Gemma huffed and punched her in the arm. Amelia let out a small Ow! but then went back to nursing the coffee cup in her hand, her only solace in this car full of maniacs. It was always like this. On days when Amelia had to go somewhere important or do something important ─ it was Monika who drove the car. Amelia wasn't religious and she definitely wasn't superstitious either. But there were rituals. Old as friendships.
And every time Amelia had something important, Gemma became a worrier. She was a worrier anyhow, but she became even more so when things like these came up. Helicopter friend-ing, Monika called it. Amelia boldly agreed.
"Well," Monika said, easing up on the accelerator as they arrived by the school, "we're not going back because you realized you forgot something again."
The car stopped. Amelia turned towards Monika and glared. "You take care of my car or I'll break your fingers, heal them, then break them again."
"Okay," Monika whistled lowly before they all exited. Amelia's eyes drifted to the ticking watch on her wrist as she constantly kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Gemma handed her the gym bag and Amelia shrugged it on, the strap digging in her shoulder, biting her skin under the sun.
Her head was on a swivel as she counted the people near the bus, then bit her lip and looked around, craning her neck in expectation. Where was Peter? He'd said he was gonna be here, so where was he? And now Amelia caught herself. Why was she so eagerly looking for him? Why was she so restless at the thought that he wouldn't show? A shiver went down her body as she tried to shake herself out of this vulnerable state.
Seeing Amelia's hyper-active state, Monika shot her a look. "How much coffee have you had?"
"A lot," she answered. To make a point, she took a big gulp of her coffee. "Alright, okay, I'm ready." She looked at the bus and all the students wearing the school blazer then shook her head. "Nope, not ready. No, no, no."
