Broken Cravings (REVISING AND REWRITING)

Broken Cravings; Eight

As I gazed ahead, I was drawn to the warm glow emanating from the charming coffee shop nestled along the desolate, dimly lit road. The flickering lights inside created a welcoming atmosphere amidst the surrounding darkness. It was already seven p.m. I stayed wide awake the whole ride even though I was offered to rest. I did not trust the man after this morning's incident.

"Come on, we're stopping here." With that, he turned off the ignition and stared at the steering wheel, seeming lost in thought.

"I need to get home. My father will be so mad at me. Your behavior is making me uncomfortable," I said while reaching into the back to grab my wallet.

With a piercing stare, he directed a sarcastic laugh in my direction before pushing the car door open with force, causing it to slam shut. As he leisurely walked behind the car, I observed his approach through the rearview mirror, anxiously anticipating his arrival at my side of the vehicle.

Harold opens the door so vast that I almost tumble out. Instinctively, he reaches out to catch me, his strong arms wrapping around my body to steady me. As I sit up, I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, and I carefully avert my gaze, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

"Call your father and tell him you will take a study session."

I found myself standing in the darkness, feeling uneasy. I reached for my phone and noticed three missed calls from my dad, along with several other app notifications clamoring for my attention. As I glanced at the screen, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something important had happened in my absence.

The sound of my door slamming reverberates through the still air as he leans against the hood of the car, exuding an aura of calmness. Slowly, he reaches for a cigarette, the flicker of the lighter briefly illuminating his face. As I dial my dad's number, the anticipation builds, and the ringing seems to echo in the quiet surroundings. I can't help but fixate on my dad's contact photo, each second feeling like an eternity as I wait for him to pick up.

"Mmm, hey honey," he mumbled groggily, his voice heavy with drowsiness as if he was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Dad, are you home?" I gazed intensely at Harold, searching for any sign of his presence in the familiar surroundings of the road.

"I am... where are you?" His voice sounded more alert and curious as he spoke.

"I went to Tanya's to study and fell asleep." I saw a few boys walking together with beers at the opposite window on my side. I scanned the coffee shop and looked back at him. He had already finished half his cigarette.

"Mmh"

"Do you want me to tell her Dad to take me back home?"

"Ehh... it's okay... it's too late for you all to travel right now. Come home tomorrow or after the weekend. Do you have extra clothes over there?" I nodded, fear growing over me as Harold stared at me. 

"Yeah, Dad. I'll talk to you later. We're going to get ready for bed." Before he could answer, I hung up my phone, shoving it between my thighs.

He finished his cigarette, walked to my door, and opened it.

"He's okay with it. But I need to be dropped off at my friend's house afterward," I said. He nodded and reached out his hand. I grabbed the door and got out. As he furrowed his brows, he opened the backseat to grab some paper and books.

"If I go missing, half of my contact list knows where I am," I said as I stepped away, watching Harold as he searched his car. I could see a smirk on his face.

"Believe me, darling. If I were a kidnapper, I wouldn't take you. You are far more annoying," he chuckled. I crossed my arms and gripped my bag.

What a jerk.