Where Two Collide

Chapter Thirty-Four - Alice

Chapter Thirty-Four

Alice

"Did you have to do that," I asked Owen later. I marched up to him at his car after we'd gotten redressed into our normal clothes after PE. He was leant against the boot, phone in hand.

He finished tapping on his phone, his fingers moving lightening quick, before he looked up at me. "What?"

My shoulders slumped, I'm still feeling the embarrassment of being told to move out of the way by the teachers, whilst dipped in Owen's arms on the school track. Hearing the whoops of Owen's hormonally charged friends and watching as the girls came to a running stop in front of us was mortifying. "The full-on PDA, you know I don't like that sort of thing."

He unlocked his car, reaching into the back seat for his hoodie. He put it on over his t-shirt, which had the words Team Muscle emblazoned across the front in bold letters, zipping it up halfway. "I was just supporting my girl," he said, waving me off dismissively. "Besides you should have seen the guys salivating over you, I had to stamp my territory. It's not like I can pee all over you to keep them away." He smirked at that and that just made me madder.

I crossed my arms. "You make it sound like I'm your property."

"You kind of are in a way, just like I'm yours," he said and shut the door to the back seat. I scowled at him, but it seemed to fly over his head. "Do you need a ride or is Tia taking you?"

I hesitated. In my rush to admonish him, I'd forgotten to ask Tia for a ride home. I glanced at the time on my phone, and sighed, she'd already be gone by now, that girl did not like to hang around. "Actually, I was thinking of walking," I said looking out across the mostly empty carpark.

"Don't be crazy, you just ran a cross country, you can't walk home," he said sternly. He went to the passenger side and opened it, gesturing inside. "Get in."

It wasn't a suggestion; I could tell by the tone of his voice. It was an order. When he ordered you, you couldn't say no, there was no alternative and no way out. A part of me imagined him forcing me into the car kicking and screaming because I said no. He'd do it in front of people at school too, he didn't care, and if I didn't like PDA, the idea of him doing that in public freaked me out more and he knew it.

He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly as he crossed the front of his car and opened the driver's door. "I'll take you home." Not an offer, a fact.

I slung my bag into the footwell and sat down in the passenger seat. The journey home was fairly short, reminding myself of that calmed the bubbling nerves in my stomach.

Owen drove just under the speed limit home, and I could tell by the way that he kept giving me sideways glances that he was doing it purposefully for me. It was reassuring, he was trying, and he was trying for me. He wanted me to feel safe in the car again, and I could have squeezed him tight for that. I loved the way he showed that he cared.

We reached a junction. Owen slowed to check it was clear, and that was when a car that had been driving behind us pulled out and overtook us, speeding ahead. As the car passed a group of boys in the car swore out the window at us.

Owen flipped. Pulling out of the junction he put his foot to the ground. Our speed multiplied ten-fold and quickly he caught up with the group of boys. He didn't slow down as we came up behind them, he brought the car so close that he was almost caressing their bumper with the front of his.

"Slow down Owen," I squealed. Panicked, I grabbed the safety handle desperate to steady myself, desperate to gain control of the situation in any way that I could.

He stared straight ahead and growled, "Shut up."

The boys tried to create some distance, but their car had nothing on Owen's. He swerved out into the oncoming traffic lane and brought his car in line with theirs. His eyes turned from the road full of fury and he thumped the horn several times as he glared at them.

"Stop Owen, stop," I shouted.

He ignored me and overtook the boys, moving back into the right lane. The boy's car turned a corner and we continued on the road. I thought it was over, however Owen didn't slow down, if anything he was going faster now.

"Please slow down Owen," I begged. My fingers were rigid as they grasped hold of the handle. I could feel pain burning down through my tensed arm.

Turning his head, he let his rage pour over me, spitting out his words. "If you don't take your hand off that handle, I'm going to keep accelerating until we hit something."

I believed every word, but I couldn't let go. "I can't Owen, I can't, please slow down I'm scared."

"Let go Alice," he demanded. "Let go or I won't slow down."

I peeled my fingers away from the handle, clasping my hands together in my lap, digging the nails of each of my fingers into my skin.

The car slowed just as we came to my road. He didn't say anything as I got out of the car, and I didn't turn back when I walked up the garden path and into my house.

I knew something was very wrong, but as I entered the dining room and found my dad sat listening to the news on the radio, I couldn't say anything. I couldn't tell him that I might need help, that something might be wrong.

Was I afraid? Maybe. Was it that I thought they would try and separate us? Maybe. Was I scared what that would do to Owen if they did? Almost certainly. The only words I could get out though didn't accurately represent all of the feelings rushing through my head. But it was all that I could say in that moment.

"Is everything alright?" asked dad, peering up at me as I came into the dining room. He could see something was wrong, it was clearly written all over my face, and worry immediately etched into his own expression.

"No," I replied and sat down opposite him.

If he was worried before, it was worse now and I instantly felt terrible. "What's wrong?" He took my hand from across the table.

That's when I lied. I lied the whitest lie I could, one that protects him from what I'm feeling but still conveyed a partial truth. "I'm just having some trouble being in cars since the accident," I said, my heart dropping into my stomach. "I'm so aware of everything going on in the car and on the road, it's like I'm suddenly hyper-sensitive of everything I was unaware of before. I feel sick and I hate it."

He gave me a knowing smile. "I can understand that," he said. "Is it like you're re-living whenever you're in the car?"

I nodded. That was exactly what it felt like, only with Owen, every time felt worse. With everyone else it was the car I was afraid of, but with Owen, I never knew what he was going to do next.

"Don't worry, that will pass eventually." He placed his other hand on top of mine so that it was sandwiched between his. "Some things don't just scar you physically, but mentally too. Just like everything else in life, it will take time to heal. Give yourself time and don't be so hard on yourself. You'll get there, you just have to take it a day at a time."

I knew that what he was saying was good advice. Yet for me, it wasn't so easy to do.

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