Page 8 of Liberty

I used my shoulder and pushed back, standing straight before trying to chase after Michelle while not falling with the insanely high heels. Daniel didn’t seem detoured by my aggression; if anything, I swore his eyes flashed with want as he followed me.

“I may never wear a dress again, and that’s a fact,” I hissed at Michelle when I finally caught up with her.

“You love dresses,” she reminded me, and damn it, it was the truth. It was an obsession, and though I still wore jeans, my dress collection was mighty impressive.

“I’m selling them all to pay taxes,” I offered.

“You would sell your soul before you reached that point.” She was probably right on that fact. Though she was exaggerating, I didn’t doubt it would be an option in the near future. I wondered if the devil paid in cash or check because if I didn’t sell my new inheritance and fast, I’d be a level below broke.

She found our table easily enough; it was the only table with a girl wearing quite literally a neon yellow dress. I warned her against it; I begged her not to wear it, but now, I was thankful for it. It was like a big enormous sign that screamed, Safety! This way!

I instantly saddled myself up to Natasha, sitting next to her, nearly squishing her into the booth. “Tasha, this is Daniel. He kindly bought us a drink after I spilled most of mine down his front.”

I took a sip of the drink and tried not to wrinkle my nose. Ew, the bartender didn’t even make it right. Michelle scooted into the booth, and Daniel followed, his eyes never leaving mine. He cleared his throat, “It was no problem at all, really.”

I sipped my drink slowly as we all talked. Michelle completely ignoring how uncomfortable his company made me feel. I checked my watch frequently. The minutes and seconds slowly ticked by. God, how long did I promise to stay? Ten? Right. Can leave at ten?

Nine fifty-six.

Wait. Did the second hand just start going in reverse? I swear the time hadn’t changed in the eons I’ve been sitting here.

My phone buzzed in my clutch, and I eagerly searched it out, eyeing a text from Michelle.

Just leave already. You will die an old cat lady with your knitting needles in your hand.

Well, that was harsh. I didn’t even like cats.

Thank you, you truly are a goddess, you know.

From across the table, I saw her shrug. I cleared my throat, “I just got a text. There is a family emergency; I should go.”

Daniel looked toward me as I stood, then he followed my actions. “Oh, I’ll walk you out. I should be going anyway. Work and all tomorrow.”

“On a Saturday?”

He shrugged. “Not everyone has Monday to Friday jobs.”

This was true. In fact, in a city this large, a majority of people didn’t. I just assumed that he worked a job with regular business hours because really, who wanted to go out on a work night? “Well, enjoy your workday tomorrow; it was nice to meet you.”

I took a step away as I evaded his offer. Evade. Evade. Evade. If I pretended he didn’t offer to walk me out, then it didn’t happen, did it? He cleared his throat, “Where are you parked?”

Take public transportation. It will save money. No parking tolls. Blah blah blah. Damn it, Michelle. “Um, I was planning to take the A home.”

“Like the train. Alone? At night? There could be predators out there,” he scoffed.

I was positive there were predators in here as well. “I’m perfectly safe.”

He pushed past me before turning just enough to grab my hand, and before I could even realize what was happening, he was pulling me through the throngs of people. The place was packed, the people in here like sardines, yet I seemed to be the only one that minded the musty smells of overheated bodies and over-applied perfumes. I needed out and fast, and if hanging on to Daniel’s clammy hand would get me out of those doors sooner, I’d let him lead the way.

We broke through the crowd and out the door, and the second fresh air hit my body, I pulled my hand away. “Thanks. It was crowded.”

Understatement of the year. He looked back toward the club before saying, “Let me give you a ride.”

Absolutely not. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m only a few stops up; the train is nothing. It’s sort of therapeutic, actually.”

“Never in my life have I heard of the A being referred to as therapeutic, and I won’t accept it now that I have.” He had a point. The public train was anything but.

“If you look past the smell, the cramped space, and the occasional person talking to themselves, the movement is relaxing,” I tried again, “It really was nice to meet you; you have a nice night.”

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