Paths Cross

{9}

On the way back home, I asked people along for directions. To get there faster, I even rented a hoverboard from a guy, who I told I didn't know when I would be able to get it back to him, but he said it didn't matter. I hoped he knew that meant he would never get it back.

One night, just as it was getting dark, I left my hoverboard in an alley and walked for a bit, searching for a safe place to sleep.

There were the trees. There was a playground. There was a park bench. But I was afraid none of that would really suit for a place to sleep for the night. I'd probably be kidnapped. It was all in plain view.

I decided to check the trees anyway.

My stomach roiled with hunger, and suddenly I had a craving for chocolate. Oh, I wished I had that right then.

Just as I was about the climb the tree, high beams flashed over me and police sirens wailed. "Nina Rokhlin! You're under arrest!" a man's voice said with an Irish accent.

A sinking feeling took place in my stomach, and I looked around slowly, just to see four police officers step out of their cars. Two men and two women.

One of the women had red hair and bright eyes, who looked curious but serious at the same time. She was younger, and seemed like she might be the new one to the group; the rookie. The other had a short, dark-colored pixie cut, looking somehow innocent although she was after me, working for my aunt.

The one man with the Irish accent, I guessed, had some dark stubble on his face an round eyes. There wasn't much else to describe him.

And then, there was the last officer, one with blond, combed back hair and a chiseled jaw. He looked very serious, and determined. And when he started to speak, I recognized his voice from that Sunday Jesse and I were at the mall, hiding in the women's dressing room.

"Ma'am, you need to come with us. You've been running away for too long."

Chiseled Jaw stepped forward, and I stared back at him with daggers in my eyes. Saying nothing, I started to run down the street, looking for my hoverboard.

They yelled after me, but before long, got in their cars and started chasing me, driving. I turned the corner, just in time to spot a motorcycle sitting free beside the curb.

Without even thinking, I jumped on and turned it on, revving the motor. I had never driven a motorcycle before, but it was worth a try to use it to get away.

So I took off, my heart beating faster than ever as I rode faster and faster down the street, the wind whipping my hair and burning the skin on my face.

The police were on my tail, their sirens louder then ever, echoing through the air.

But I was gaining speed. Soon I was at 80 miles per hour, 90, 100, jumping to 120, and just when I reached 140, I lost sight of the police. I slowed down and rode along the deserted highway, speeding right beside the guardrail. As soon as the police came into view, I jumped over the guardrail while still moving and rolled down the hill almost as fast as I was driving that motorcycle.

I heard the police sirens pass up ahead and stopped myself from rolling down the hill, throwing my hands out in front of me. Finally, I slowed and stood up, dizzy.

Even thought it seemed the police passed, I turned and continued to run through the woods behind me.