Page 53 of Forbidden Lessons

A truck blasts its horn at us as it whooshes past inches from my door.

My hand is on my heart, blood draining from my face.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “It almost fucking hit us.”

“You okay?” Bastian leans over to me, craning to look at my face. “Haven.”

“Yeah, sorry. Just, just got a fright. Look.” I hold out my hand so he can see me shaking.

“Jesus, he could have killed you.” He grabs my hand, squeezes it, and then snatches his hand away, so quickly I’m even more rattled than before. “Shit like that makes my fucking blood boil.”

He shakes his head as he carefully guides his Tesla back on the road.

At the next intersection, he taps the car’s console. Soothing classical music flows out of the sound system. Chopin’s Nocturne album, from the artwork on the screen. Must be to calm me down, because there’s not a tremor anywhere on his body…and I’ve been looking.

I don’t know why I expect him to head downtown. Maybe because he’s a teacher, and I assume they don’t make megabucks. But he’s only on the main road for a few minutes before he turns into Earl Avenue and we ascend one of the hills Hillside gets its name from.

I turn to stare out the window.

Agony Hollow might be a small town, but I know most of it. Like this road that winds up the side of the largest hill. There’s a steep cliff edge to one side, densely packed trees on the other.

We pass a lookout spot. Nothing more than a small alcove butting right up against the cliff’s edge. A concrete bench, a concrete bin, and enough parking for max three cars.

But the view…God, that view.

The entire town is visible. From the large multi-level homes we’ve just driven past, to more compact townhomes. Strips of businesses and apartments cluster tighter and tighter together as the grid condenses toward Hollow Way, the town’s main street.

The road cuts through our town at a diagonal until it intersects the Agony River at the lower half of the town. Past that, the squalor is blatant, even at this altitude.

Perhapsespeciallythis high up.

I look away, swallowing.

“I’ve heard things are rough down there.” Bastian’s voice is low, a muted hum barely able to rival the Tesla’s tires on the road and the piano music. “Those poor people just can’t seem to drag themselves out of the mud.”

I want to tell him to fuck off. That the streets of Riverside are mud free. Although the same can’t be said for rubbish, roaches, or rodents.

But the way he says it, it’s not like he’s pitying me. It’s like we’re sympathizing together.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ve never been up Earl Avenue before?”

“Not past Lookout Point. Thought there were only hunting lodges up here.” I grimace at the thought. I went once, with my dad and uncle, but that was years before the remaining Lees fled Agony Hollow. I didn’t have a choice, and God, I wish I did.

“Not a big hunter. Noted.”

I huff, smiling a little. “You wanna talk about cruelty?”

“Debating the topic of my thesis with a freshman. Hm…” The little hum he makes is both sexy and condescending. “I guess, since we have nothing better to talk about…”

“Jerk!” I punch him on the arm before I realize what I’m doing.

But thank God he only chuckles as he turns off Earl Avenue into a much smaller street that cuts through the firs covering these hills. The angle of the road changes, inclining even more than before.

We’re leaving civilization behind.

No more houses around. Just trees, and those growing denser as the road winds up.

---