Behind the Glasses || a.i.

Chapter 16

 The phone rang, and I woke, glancing at the clock. It was seven, and I was late for work. The caller ID read Diana, so I ignored it. I had priorities at the moment, and she, unfortunately, was not one of them. I quickly got ready, and ran to the lobby. I knew I had left my phone upstairs, but I kept going, jogging to the bookstore down the block. I walked in, but it was empty.

 In a rush, I ran upstairs to check on Ms. Farce. She is in her room, sleeping peacefully. Not wanting to wake her, I leave her a note.

Ms. Farce,

 Due to the surprising amount of business we received yesterday, I have closed down the shop for the day to let you rest. Don’t worry, there is a sign on the door.

Love, Trinity

 I put it on the pillow next to her, before leaving with a sign on the door providing information I had included in the letter. I sigh, strolling down the street. I stick my hands in the pockets of my jeans, sweating in my black t-shirt.

 Six years.

 It’s unbelievable to think it’s been that long since they’ve been gone. “Trinity!” I look up, being torn from my thoughts. A car pulls up next to me, stopping. The crappy window rolls down painfully slowly. Ashton is sitting in the driver’s seat. “Where are you going? It’s Tuesday. I thought you had work,” he interrogates.

 I tighten my lips. “Nah, business was so good yesterday, I decided to take the day off,” I explain.

 “Where are you headed?”

 I look down the street, shrugging my shoulders again. “Not sure yet,” I reply.

 “Here, get in,” he says, reaching over to clean off the front seat. I smile, opening the door and climbing in.

 “Thanks,” I say to him, closing the door. I pull my seat belt over my lap, clicking it into place.

 “No problem, what do you want to do?” He smiles at me.

 I smile. “I don’t know,” I mumble, looking out the window.

 “Want to try a movie day, since Mean Girls didn’t go over well?” he offers.

 “Yeah, sure, if you aren’t busy,” I answer.

 He frowns, and I realized I offended him because of yesterday. I look down at my lap. Screw up, my insecurities tell me. “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he confesses.

 I look over at him. He keeps glancing from me to the road. All it takes is three seconds with your eyes off the road, the officer I talked to the night of the crash repeats in my mind. “Can you watch the road?” I whisper, watching out the windshield.

 “Trinity, if you’re mad-”

 “I’m not mad, Ash, I just need you to do me a favor and watch the road,” I nearly shout.

 Silence falls over us for a few seconds. Not even the radio is playing. “You don’t have to lie,” he mumbles.

 I huff. “Fine, you know what, Ashton? I am I bit upset. But if I was pissed at you, why would we be on our way to my place to watch a movie?” My voice comes out agitated, and he is beginning to worry me, giving me anxiety.

 “Then why did you ignore my apology?” he asks, staying calm. He takes his eyes off the road to look at me, again, and it becomes hard to breathe. You shouldn’t distract the driver, no matter how experienced, or else tragedy could strike, my high school principal’s word at the assembly we had Junior year rang in my ears.