Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (4 page)

Mom - 9:46am

You’re with him, aren’t you?

Mom – 10:57am

If you’re not home within an hour I’m calling the police.

Dad – 11:15am

Your Mom thinks you’ve run away with that teacher.
Seriously. Answer your phone before she calls the police.

Mom – 12:09pm

Calling the police

Dad – 12:15pm

She called the police.

Once I’d finished reading the text messages, I heard the toilet flush. I quickly switched the phone off and stuffed it into my bag.

Tom re-emerged from the bathroom
and began to dress himself in the thrift-store clothes before pressing his lips to my forehead and murmuring. “Let’s get going, sweetheart.”

~

Only after Tom and I left the ‘Quality inn’ did I wonder where he’d got the money to pay for it.

“Where’d you get the money from?” I asked
as we pulled back onto the highway. “I thought you didn’t have any of your own belongings?”

“Secret cash-stash,” he said, crunching the gearbox as he forced it into first gear. “In case of emergencies.”

“Where do you keep your cash-stash?” I asked.

Tom laughed. “Well if I told you then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?”

I cocked an eyebrow and looked at him.

Tom glanced my way and chuckled. “I pawned some old jewellery before the arrest,” he said.

“The engagement ring?” I asked, without thinking.

The car swerved to the
left a little. “How did you-?”

The first time I’d gone to Tom’s house I’d rummaged through his drawers and found a petite diamond ring stashed away. He’d mentioned that he’d been engaged once, but we’d never discussed it. It seemed he was eager not to talk about it.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling a guilty expression. “I … found it in your drawer that first day. I didn’t want to say anything.”

I thought of it as ‘
the first day’; the day we discovered that we shared a common affliction.
The first day
.

“Right.” He shifted unc
omfortably in the driver’s seat. “Erm … yeah, well I pawned it. Didn’t get much, obviously. It wasn’t very expensive to begin with. I could never afford the-” He stopped talking and cleared his throat noisily.

I could see that this topic made him uneasy, but I wanted to know all the details of his past relationship. Not because I was jealous, but because I wanted to understand why it had fallen apart.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Rose,” Tom sighed and rested his elbow on the window, holding his temple. “Please, love. Do we have to talk about this now?” The memory was clearly painful for him to think about.

“No,” I shook my head, reaching over and taking his hand. “We don’t.”

The chance to compare myself to a woman he had once proposed to was, well, irresistible.
But I wouldn’t press the matter further. He’d talk about it when he was ready.

~

My feet were on the dashboard and my window was cranked all the way open so I could feel the warm breeze upon my face. I was grinning from ear to ear as I sang from the top of my lungs with the song on the radio. I didn’t know all of the words, nor was I in tune, but at that moment it didn’t matter because I was happy. I was with Tom and that was the most important thing in the world.

Tom was laughing at my terrible singing, the corners of his eyes creased in amusement. That was, until an extremely ironic song began to play on the radio. It was an older song that I didn’t recogn
ize, but Tom identified it immediately.

Young teacher, the subject of school-girl fantasy.

She wants him
so badly - knows what she wants to be.

“Oh … that’s just great,” he muttered, leaning forward to swivel the dial.

“Wait,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I want to listen.”

Inside him there’
s longing - this girls an open page.

Book marking, she’s so close now. This girl is half his age.

Tom and I froze as the words played out, our eyes wide.
I looked over at him to analyse his expression.

I remembered those days in class when Tom would kneel by my desk to ‘help’ me with my work – his
knee touching mine, his hand brushing my skin. The memory brought blood rushing to my cheeks and goose-bumps to my skin.

“What is this song?” I asked, worried that
it might ruin Tom’s excellent mood.

Tom gulped, his A
dams apple jumping in his throat.

“Don’t stand so close to me, by The Police,” he replied stiffly.

“I’ve never heard of them,” I said, listening to the following verse intently.

“They a
re … a bit before your time,” he said, wincing apologetically.

Temptation, frustration - so bad it makes him cry,

Wet bus stop, she’s waiting. His car is warm and dry.

Memories flashed through my mind;
Tom pulling up beside me in this car as the rain poured down on top of me. It was the first time we’d truly been alone together.

Loose talk in the classroom - to hurt they try and try.

Strong words in the staffroom
- the accusations fly.

“Rose,” Tom interrupted the song. “Will you please change the station?”

“Right,” I said, reaching a shaking hand forward to turn the dial.

We sat in silence after that – both of us lost in thought.

Wednesday – 27
days to go

I had an uncomfortable sleep that night. Tom parked on a hidden road near a river. I could hear the running water as I tried to drift off, but it was no use. I was far too uncomfortable and much too cold.

I turned my phone on to check my missed calls. It vibrated constantly as the build-up of messages flooded my inbox.
I stifled the vibrations, hoping it wouldn’t wake Tom. There was over one-hundred and seven notifications. Every single one was from my parents. Sighing, I turned the phone off again and hid it in my bag.

We’d reclined the seats in an attempt to sleep in a more horizontal position, but Tom had long legs and was cramped.

Tired, uncomfortable, hungry and thirsty, we lay awake for most of the night. The clock on the dashboard said it was two o’clock in the morning. I tossed and turned. Each time I found a relatively comfortable position it quickly became uncomfortable within a matter of minutes. I rolled again and again, making the car creak.

Tom grumbled sleepily, “Stop moving, darling. You’re rocking the car.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t get comfortable.”

“Can you feel your legs?” he asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well you’re one up on me, then.” I heard the smile in his voice.

I rolled to face him and saw his moon-lit face staring back at me. “I’ll bring the feeling back,” I said, biting down on my bottom lip mischievously.

“Mmh? How?” he said sleepily.

I reached my hand over and squeezed his thigh, just below the bulge in his jeans. “I can think of a few ways.”

Tom chuckled
and took my hand in his, bringing it away from his crotch. He pressed his lips to my palm, his warm breath exhaling from his nostrils, against my fingers.

“Your hands are freezing,” he said.
“Do you want my coat as a blanket?”

His abrupt change of subject had not gone unnoticed by me. I tried, in vain, to steer the conversation back towards the topic of intimacy. “I know a way to keep warm,” I said, tracing my fingertip over his lips.

“Mmmh.” Tom smiled and thread his fingers through mine so we were holding hands once more.

Feeling bold, I decided to take some initiative.
I sat up and pushed the jacket I was using as a blanket from my body and began to unfasten my jeans.

“Rose,” said Tom, his tone amused. “Darling, you don’t have to-”

“You don’t want to?” I pressed, leaning back as I slid the jeans down my legs. I kicked them off and threw them into the back seat.

“It’s not that,” he chuckled. “There’s just … there’s not enough room.”

“You just sit back,” I said with a smirk, pulling my t-shirt over my head so I was only in my bra, panties and socks. Goosebumps covered my flesh and I shivered visibly.

“You’re going to
be cold,” Tom protested, sitting up and trying to put my jacket back over me.

Pushing the jacket out of the way, I leaned forwards and pressed my mouth to Tom’s, kissing him hard, just as I had dur
ing our first kiss in this car. Tom’s hands slid to my waist, rather reluctantly, as he returned the kiss. He groaned against my mouth before pulling away and sighing.

“You make it very difficult for me to think rationally,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Truthfully, I felt slightly rejected, but I wouldn’t tell Tom that. He’d only fuss over me.

“I’m not even trying,” I smiled, leaning in again.

He kissed me with less reservation this time, enveloping me in his arms and pulling me close. Our lips didn’t part as I crawled into his lap, straddling him. I could already feel the expanding bulge in his trousers, nestled neatly between my thighs.

Beeeeeeeeep!

My buttocks pushed against the steering wheel, sounding the horn. We both laughed, but the sudden sound seemed to bring Tom to his senses.

“Rose,” he said,
his expression now solemn. “We can’t.”

I sat back, frowning. “Why not?”

“It’s not a good idea.” Tom held me by the hips, his expression apologetic. “We haven’t got any protection.”

“So? We didn’t last night. You can just stop when-”