Off the Record

Ⅶ

I quietly close the front door and pull out the key to lock the house up tightly. Bryn is fast asleep on the couch inside. If she wakes up a) she has my phone number and b) I left a point blank note on the counter telling her that I was going to the hospital to get my foot checked out.

Well, that was the plan until I walk up to my car, the rims of my tires obviously crawling on the concrete. Peachy. That's damn fucking peachy. What ruined my tire, might I ask? A sharp screw is jammed into the side of my tire.

I'm screwed. No pun intended.

This, my friends, is why the king of hell created the middle finger.

Well, one things for sure: the wheels on the bug won't go round and round all the way to the hospital. Looks like my old beetle, Lucy, is out of the running, at least until I can get her into the shop.

That's not happening until I can actually walk without face planting on the ground. I guess I'll have to hobble my way there. I google the directions from my location to see how far the walk is estimated to be. Normally, it would take about twenty-five minutes to get over to the hospital. Except, now I'm a bunny hopping on one leg it'll take a whole shit ton longer. I force out a long breath to prepare for my personal trip to hell, which came a little earlier than expected.

For the next ten minutes, I keep my focus on taking one step at a time, being cautious not to put too much pressure on my injured foot. Every time I didn't pay attention, my foot would instantly feel like a shark began clutching the whole front of it, ripping it into shambles. I'm assuming it's broken because any pressure at this point hurt's like a bitch.

While walking on the sidewalk, a blue jeep pulls up to my location. I look over with confusion clouding my eyes. Are they just parking here for shits and giggles or do they have something else on their mind. I don't recognize the car, I've never seen it before in my life.

No one would kidnap me in plain daylight, right? I glance around and notice a camera on the street lamp a little further back that's thankfully pointing in my direction.

Honestly, being kidnapped sounds much more appealing than the face I saw when the window begins to roll down.

Luke... with a girl that looks like she just came straight out of a Playboy magazine.

"What are you doing here?" My eyes narrow at him as I take a judgmental glance at the painted girl in front of me. I have nothing against a lot of makeup, hell I'm totally okay with rocking the thick black line on my lids.

However, this chick on the other hand looks like a girl plastered with a wanna-be drag queen sign on her face.

"I could say the same thing about you and the girl that looks like she applied her makeup with a paintball gun."

The girl leans back comfortably in the car seat while she crosses her arms in front of her, "Bitch." She scoffs, her cheeks turning brighter than the blush she already has on. She gives Luke a glance to see if he had a plan to back her up on the matter. Nope, I guess her efforts are futile.

"God, who pissed in your cheerios this morning?" The corner of Luke's mouth turns up at the girls sarcasm as she attempts to retaliate.

"Oh, I'm sorry did you say something? I'm just dreaming of slapping duct tape over your mouth." Accomplishment flushes over my face as another smirk flies onto Luke's face. "Why did you pull over?" I ask cautiously, grabbing my left arm with my right hand in an attempt to warm up.

I guess I should have brought a jacket; wearing a plain t-shirt wasn't the brightest idea. I just assumed that walking for a good while would warm me up, I mean it's a sunny day in August. I live in Seattle, not ass-crack Antartica.

"I recognized you as I was driving the other direction so I flipped a U-turn."

"All that for me? Awe, I'm honored." A fake smile creeps onto my face.

Luke starts laughing before the chick in front pushes in a comment, "Luke, just go already. Leave the slut behind."

If I threw a stick, I wonder if she would get out of the car and leave.

No, I highly doubt that. She's not smart enough for tricks.

He completely ignores her nasty comment, still looking curiously at me while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, "Did you need a ride somewhere?" I could keep wobbling in agony for another fifteen to twenty minutes or I could suck it up like a buttercup and silently sit in the car for a couple of minutes.

The awkward few minutes in a car is worth saving my foot from more pain, "Yeah, I need to get to the Emergency Room. My car got a flat so I've been walking there." I calmly say, attempting to hold in my snide comments.

The dog in passenger seat doesn't seem to have that much control, "What did you fall down a hill or something?"

I let a chuckle leave my mouth before answering her, "Oh honey, I didn't but when you were born, it was at the top of one. I can tell that it's been downhill ever since." I give her a smug look, noticing her eye twitching in frustration.

She lets out a big huff from her pretty little mouse lips, signaling that she's done with her petty attempts and Luke signals for me to hop in the back seat of the Jeep. He's obviously trying not to let out a laugh at my final jab at her.

I'm sorry, I can't help it. She's the one that brought a knife to a gunfight. Okay, I'm not sorry but it's the thought that counts.