Page 21 of The Longshot

Do I tell her where I am?

I mean, she’s been looking out for me so far.

I can trust her.

She’s got my back.

I gulp. “I’m at my sister's bakery in Crawley, south of London,” I confess, regret instantly singeing my lips. “It’s called Ruby’s Bakery. I’ll text you the address, okay? Just promise me that you won’t tell anyone.” I’m firm with my request. “Promise me, Holly.”

When she doesn’t immediately agree my anxiety skyrockets. “Hello?” my voice is filled with slight impatience. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” Holly’s voice is hardly above a whisper as I make a bee-line down the stairs, slam the front door shut, and fiddle with my keys to lock up. “I won’t tell anyone, Chelsie. I promise.”

I’m comforted with an immediate sense of relief. “Thank you,” I tell her, typing out the address as I speed walk down the pavement and hit send. “I just texted you. Did you get it?”

“I got it. But Chelsie?” Holly’s back to using that worried tone from earlier. “Why do I feel like there’s something I’m missing? Do you want me to call your parents? I can explain to them how Simon is being with you, and maybe they can?—”

“No,” I plead, cutting her concern short. “Please, I promise that this is temporary. This will all calm down soon, and then I’ll be back. My parents can’t know, Holly. They can’t…”

Every time she speaks, I seem to shoot her down, so much so that it doesn’t shock me when the line goes quiet.

“Listen…” I steady my voice. “I’m just walking to the bakery now, so I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she responds in defeat. “Talk soon.”

I end the call.

This double life is exhausting, but wholeheartedly, it’s the only thing that makes me feel like I’m on track to finding myself again.

You know, the girl before Simon.

The girl that I know is still inside of me.

That always has been.

I just need to pull her back out.

I will pull her back out.

One step at a time, I continue to race my way down the pavement, pacing myself with each stride until finally I reach the front of the bakery.

The door jingles as I abruptly swing it open—prompting all eyes to fall on me. There’s a line-up of what must be over eight people waiting to be served and behind the counter? One single person trying their absolute best to work as quickly as possible—Ruby.

Remorse floods my chest as I meet her tired eyes.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.” Ruby places her hands on her hips, her voice playful yet stern as she momentarily follows me into the back kitchen.

“I’m so sorry!” I’m quick to apologize, wasting no time wrapping an apron around my waist and washing my hands. “I had trouble sleeping last night, and then this morning, one thing led to another and?—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ruby places a soothing hand on my shoulder, easing my frantic state before steadying me in place. “You’re here now,” she grounds me. “Besides…” She peers back over to the front of the shop. “It only just got busy. There’s a big football match happening in town today, and lots of supporters want a quick treat from the best bakery in town before they go. Think you can help them out?”

I flash her a warm smile. “Of course.”

Five minutes.

Four minutes, 59 seconds.

Four minutes, 58 seconds.

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