Brody (6 page)

I tried not to think about that as I waited for Mr. Michaels to finish what he was writing. He did. Looking up, he made a steeple with his fingers. “You know I had to write you up for this. We got a three strikes policy around here and that’s one.”

I nodded, understanding.

“I’m also going to have to dock your pay.”

My heart charged behind my chest. He was...
docking
my pay. Why? I rose up. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand.”

Leaning forward, I knew he was about to make it clear. “I know you’re new, Brody, but this is in your contract. I lose money when deliveries are late. This is why deadlines are set. Money I lose as the result of late deliveries must be replenished. All drivers around here understand that, which is why they make sure they’re never late. They are the ones penalized if they’re at fault. I advise you to take a look at your contract. You’ll see it’s all set out.”

I didn’t consider myself a slow person. I wasn’t dense. I wasn’t stupid. I’d read the freaking contract and I didn’t recall seeing anything like this in it at all. It didn’t feel right what was happening. Not at all.

“You’ll be seeing the difference in your next paycheck, Brody.” He said that so matter-of-factly, so dry and cold, I had to fight my jaw from clenching. To this guy, I was just a number, just another employee who fucked up and now he was collecting what was his. Maybe he wasn’t too far off about me. I felt more and more like a fuck up every day I forced myself to drive away from home. I felt it when I had to leave my family and friends for weeks at a time for a job that had once seemed like the right plan for me.

Things didn’t seem so clear now.

Before I left, I asked my boss for a copy of the contract. He even highlighted the part about the wage garnish. I had to laugh, trashing it before I exited the building. There was a line there. A single line filled with so much legal jargon, a guy would need a lawyer to even decipher the shit. On top of that, it was an amendment, a
recent
amendment I briefly recalled he made a bunch of us sign before we could even get our last paychecks. The bastard lied about it being normal company policy. I wasn’t surprised and with all of us employees hurrying to get paid that day, I bet I wasn’t the only one who overlooked the new policy. Crazy thing was, I couldn’t even get mad. This was my own lapse in judgment. It was
me
that signed something I didn’t fully understand.

I was understanding a lot of things now.

Heading out to Alex, I considered what made me late in the first place. This thing with her… I had to remember what it was. She was a girl. She was a girl who needed a ride and I couldn’t get attached to her. We couldn’t…

We couldn’t
be
anything but what we were: me giving her a lift. I could only blame whatever attachment I created because of my job. I had to admit, I was by myself a lot. I guess it was just nice to have someone around for a while. I wouldn’t let things be that way anymore. I’d get her to where the line ended for me and let her go.

I’d let her go.

Holding on to that notion completely made sense. It made sense until I exited the building and looked up from my strides. Looking for a familiar face, I realized it wasn’t there.
She
wasn’t there, at least not at first glance through my rig’s windshield. I picked up my pace and the closer I got to my truck, I knew it to be true. She wasn’t in my front seat. She wasn’t where I’d last seen her.

I didn’t let myself panic as I opened the door or even when I went inside and didn’t see her in the front or the back of the truck. But when I saw the ring I gave her, the plastic mood ring sitting in her seat, the twisting in my gut now had merit. She left. Why did she leave?

I jumped out of the truck even quicker than I entered it. I whipped around, not even knowing where to look or where to go. Pushing my hand in my hair, I tried to think. She seemed fine when I left the truck. She said she’d be fine. I thought she was, but my hand dropped at a brief moment of recollection. Before I went inside to see Mr. Michaels, I turned, and when I did, Alex didn’t seem so okay. In fact, the last time I saw her eyes that way was this morning. It was this morning when I left her to get doughnuts. I looked at her before I went inside the warehouse and I know I saw that look go away. With the way it did, I figured the unease I believed I saw in her eyes at first was just my imagination. Maybe I wasn’t imagining it.

The shift manager handed me back my keys when he passed me. Before he could go, I touched his shoulder.

“Hey, have you seen a girl?” Panicking, I took a moment to breathe. I had to so I could describe her. “She’s kind of tall, but not as tall as me. Her height’s mostly because of her shoes. They’re these tall boot things with heels. She’s also pretty, real pretty, and has these eyes. They’re deep and dark and gorgeous like her skin.”

I didn’t say it would be a particularly
good
description, but as frantic as I was it, was the best I could do.

The seconds in which it took this guy to think I thought I’d lose it. “Does she have like a purple-red hair thing going on?”

Oh, God. She put her wig back on. I nodded.

He pointed across the street and my heart sunk. It was a park, a park full of people.

“She went in there,” he said, before leaving me.

Shit. How was I going to find her in there?

Chapter Eight

Alexa

Keeping my head down, the magenta strands of my hair framed my eyes as I strode through the park. Dusk; it was getting late in the day. Despite that, the park was pretty active and that was only a good thing. I blended in amongst the people playing Frisbee and exercising, and all the while, I kept my feet moving. I forced myself to go forward and not look back. The further I moved, the further I got away, my anxiety levels rose. It wasn’t because I had no idea where I’d be sleeping tonight. In fact, not knowing where I was or even how I could travel out of this town ebbed it. It was knowing with each step I made, the odds of me seeing the man that saved me again grew smaller and smaller. That had been the point, though. Cutting ties now meant I didn’t have to do so later. No more emotions could get involved. No more ties or connections could be formed and no more feelings could develop.

If they were even real feelings at all.

I had one goal and one goal only. I had to get home and right some wrongs that needed to be fixed. I had to correct some mistakes—
my
mistakes.

I continued to move through the park quickly and like a lifeline was needed, my saving grace came in the form of a bus only a few paces from me. It pulled to a stop near the sidewalk, letting on passengers, kids and their parents, that filtered from the playgrounds. I didn’t know where this bus was going, but I did know it would take me away. I could figure out my next move once I rode it to the end of the line. I had a little money, but didn’t know if it was enough to afford a train or long distance bus ticket. If it wasn’t, I knew I was left with little options to get more, one of which I couldn’t even stomach to do the last time. How I let things get that bad disgusted me. I’d done some fucked up things before to get by, but that… I didn’t even want to think about it as I got into the bus line.

Standing there, thinking about what little money I did have and why, I couldn’t resist looking behind me for a set of deep blue eyes. He wasn’t there, though, and wouldn’t be there anymore. Stupidity reared its head when I let my thoughts linger on him. I thought about how I didn’t even get to know some of the most mundane things about him. Like some of his favorite things to do or his favorite season. Heck, even his last name I never found out.

Ignoring the tug at my heart, I turned to look forward and move with the rest of the line, but my gaze stopped on a little girl still standing in the park near the four square lot. She looked ten or so and I knew exactly what caught my attention about her. She wore a pink tutu, spinning on the tips of her toes in a circle.

The vision warmed my heart. She was so carefree as she twirled. Her hands above her head, she was lost in her dance. Why can’t things be that simple always? Why couldn’t things be that beautiful always?

Dropping her form, she ran over to a ring of boys and girls. They all varied in age, but didn’t seem to be that much older than her. They looked to be twelve to early teens and surrounded a couple other boys dancing. Free styling in the middle of the circle, the kids didn’t need any music at all. They just danced. They had
fun
while the group around them chanted them on.

When a couple were done, others moved in, showing their stuff as well. They all did various forms of hip hop, hitting anything from breakdancing to various popular moves in music videos. The young girl on the side in the tutu watched, her eyes wide in fascination. Before I knew it, she was attempting to make her way into the circle. I was glad she wanted to show her stuff. I doubt she had any formal training at all and was just playing around before, but all kinds of dance should be represented in that circle.

I almost made it to the head of the bus line, but couldn’t help letting my gaze linger in that direction. I wanted to see her start. Turns out, she never got the chance. The moment she tried to break into the circle, another girl a little older than her, stood in front of her, eyeing the young girl’s tutu.

“You can’t dance here,” she said to her. “Ballet isn’t real dancing.”

Now, I knew this girl was a kid and didn’t know any better, but frankly, her comment couldn’t have pissed me off more. Who was she to say what was
real
dancing, but apparently her words were enough for the little girl in the tutu. I should have let it go. I needed to, but as I watched that young girl, walking away from the dance circle with her head hung, I couldn’t help being affected. This girl’s enthusiasm, her passion, was crushed all because of one comment, all because one person said she couldn’t do something.

“Hey, little missy. You getting on?”

I looked up at the bus driver, the one waiting for me to board so he could leave. I held the handle, but found myself looking back to that little girl. I didn’t know how strong this girl felt about her style of dancing, or if she even wanted to dance professionally at all, but what I did know was we all deserved a chance to live for our passion. No matter how naïve those passions turned out to be.

Brody

When I didn’t see Alex at first glance, I just started walking. I stayed along the perimeter of the park. She no doubt went in deeper, but I figured she wouldn’t stay there. She had to leave the area eventually and the odds of me coming across her would be better this way. The urge to stop my search, give up before it barely began, tugged away at me. What if… what if she was
trying
to get away from me for some reason? What if I did something wrong and put her off? I realized what I’d done by taking advantage of a situation when she trusted me to get her to Texas. Maybe she realized that, too.

Thinking about that, my stomach turned and I did stop, gazing down at my hand. Opening it, a plastic ring met my eyes and I ended up shutting my lids.

I acted inappropriately with her and should have known better considering the way I found her. I gave her things, things like this ring and even money at one point. At the time, these things seemed innocent enough, but in hindsight, they were something I probably shouldn’t have done.

Looking up, I gazed across the park one last time. I never wanted to confuse Alex or make things unclear about my intentions, but with the things I gave her, I no doubt did.

My hand lowered and I turned to walk away. I turned to end things hoping for the best for her. I hoped she found that safety she needed. What that meant for her, safety, I didn’t know the extent of, but for me personally, I hoped she would gain some kind of freedom. She’d be free from her stresses and everything else that seemed to be weighing her down. I had no idea what that relief looked like for her, but when I finally spotted her over on a painted foursquare lot with people surrounding her, I believed I got an inkling of what that freedom might look like. They cheered her on. They cheered her on because she danced for them.

Spinning on her toes, hell, the tip of her
boot
, she made a
360-degree rotation, but once she completed the spin she didn’t stop. She kept going, doing another and another. She spun forever, and though, what she was doing fascinated me, yes, what had me entranced was
her
. With the fluidity of her body during her movement, she looked like a bird cutting through the sky and a strong passion illuminated her face that made those eyes, so uneasy before, bright. This was a different girl out there, one I’d only caught glimpses of when I was fortunate enough to be let in through her laughter. I’d never seen her so free before.

I’d never seen her so alive.

Alexa

The chants of the crowd shot a pulse through me. Their cheers rooted me on, amped me up, and I continued to spin with the charge of them. This always happened. It always did when I did this, danced, no matter how long it had been. I was a slave to the movement in the best possible way. Doing this was a mistake, dancing. I knew that, but it didn’t feel like a mistake now. It never did. It only felt right.

I ended in the proper position as if I did this only yesterday. The body never forgets. Looking out to the crowd, I displayed my arms and form proudly and the kids pumped their fists in response. I loved it, but in the end, I didn’t do this for them or their encouragement.

Standing tall, I looked at the young girl ahead of me, the one in the tutu. She was more excited than all of them. In fact, her excitement was tenfold as she clapped her hands for me. I smiled, picking up my glittery bag. I doubt she expected me to come over to her and her jaw dropping as I approached, told me that.