Things We Didn't Say_ A Novel - Kristina Riggle [55]
I spent my own cash already—I never had much, but Tiffany made it sound like she had tons. Now we have no money and no ride and it’s snowing really hard out there, too.
After the wallet got stolen I decided to call home with a calling card I bought for emergencies, since I wasn’t taking my phone. Tiffany was in the bathroom, and I called the first number that came to mind, Casey’s cell, the number I call if I need something during the day when Dad’s at work. But somehow my mom grabbed the phone and started screaming and then Tiffany came out of the bathroom and I didn’t want her to think I was chickening out so I hung up.
“I think we should hitch,” Tiffany says, now swinging my hand in hers, which annoys me. I stiffen my arm so she has to stop and she gives me this little hurt look through her hair.
“Yeah, and then we get hacked up into bits by some maniac. Good plan.”
“C’mon, there are two of us. We won’t get in someone’s car if they look crazy.”
“Not all psychopaths wander around drooling and rolling their eyes.”
“Okay, no droolers. That will narrow the choices.”
I allow a smile at this. “No, serious, Tiffany, we can’t. Have you seen the weather out there? W-w-w-we didn’t dress for standing by the side of the road sticking out a thumb. Someone would probably call the cops on us, an-n-n-yway.”
We walk a few more steps, and I test the waters with something. “You know, we could call your parents.”
She stops dead, forcing me to stop, too, by yanking on my hand.
“We can’t do that! It’s horrible, I can never go anywhere or do anything, I’m like a prisoner in that house. I had to escape.”
I look around to see if anyone heard that. A mother wheeling a stroller by gives us a long look.
“S-s-someone will hear you.”
Tiffany had told me all kinds of stories about how she was never allowed to go anywhere but school, the library, and church, and couldn’t even use the phone unless her dad was in the same room listening, and her only Internet access was taken away when he found out she was talking to me. She had to change her e-mail address and send me messages through Facebook and Gmail at the library when she was supposed to be studying. He took away her phone, too, when he found out she’d been sneaking calls to me.
She said she had actual bars on the windows, and a lock on the outside of her room that he threatened to use if she disobeyed.
This all sounded pretty bad.
And she talked about running away alone, and I didn’t want her to do that and get abducted and murdered. So she said I could come with her. At first I thought that was a bad idea, but then school every day was awful, and I had no friends at my old school anymore either, then Angel and my dad and Casey started fighting all the time. I couldn’t even breathe, it felt like. My stammer got worse, and some kids at EXA started mocking it.
Tiffany started talking about freedom, and it all sounded so . . . free.
But she also sent me a picture of a model instead of her face, and told me she was older than I think she really is.
“I’m hungry, anyway,” I tell her, stalling. “Let’s try to find something to eat.”
“With what?”
I sigh. I hadn’t wanted to do this, but I’m running out of options. “I’ve got my dad’s credit card.”
She lights up like fireworks. “You do! That’s great! Let’s go to T.G.I. Friday’s!”
I shake my head. “We can’t go anywhere where they have time to really look at the card and ask for ID and stuff. We should probably, like, walk to a convenience store and just buy some food where I can just swipe the card and scribble something on the paper. A gas station, someplace like that where they won’t care.”
She nods. “Okay, fine, a gas station. Then we’ll hitch. Really, it’ll be fine. My cousin used to do this all the time, my mom’s cousin I mean?” She says that last part in a rush because she’d already talked about not having cousins, back in our first days writing to each other. “He said a couple can get away with it, no problem.