"Jasmine!"
Another step.
"Get back here, you bitch!"
I run the last few feet into the office, slamming the door behind me. There's still an empty seat on the couch where I was before but I can't bring myself to sit down. I start to pace back and forth. Different scenarios run through my mind.
What have I done?
How could I have listened to Cutter?
I should have just done what Dylan told me.
What if he kicks me out? Where will I go? I have nothing of my own: no money, no clothes. Everything I have is his. How could I have turned on him like that?
It's too hot in here. Sweat pools in the center of my back. With trembling fingers, I undo the top two buttons of my shirt, moving over to the pedestal fan in the corner. But the longer I stay in this room, the longer I side against Dylan, the harder it is to breathe. My hands drag through my hair as my world comes crashing down around me.
I need to go home. I need to try to explain to him that I don't do what he thinks I do here. I need him to forgive me.
I grab my purse and fling open the door, running down the hallway, straight into Tracie. My purse falls to the floor, the contents spewing out. I drop to my knees and begin snatching up random items, not caring how they go back in. "Jasmine." She grips my arms, pulling me up like it requires no effort. The woman can't be more than five-foot, yet her gaze makes me feel tiny. "Are you-"
"I have to go." I'm fully aware that I sound crazy, and with my shirt open and my hair falling down around my shoulders, I must look it, too. "Please, I can't . . ." My mouth is dry and I can't get the words out. "Please," I beg.
Tracie chews on her bottom lip. I haven't had much to do with her but she doesn't strike me as the indecisive type. "Come," she says, turning and walking down the hall, pushing through a side door before we reach the bar. "This way." She leads me out through the kitchen, weaving her way past chrome shelving and stacked up boxes until we reach the back wall and she pushes hard on a heavy door marked "Deliveries." She pokes her head out, looking left and right, before pulling me behind her. She races along the side of the building, rounding the corner, where the smell of the day-old dumpsters clings to our nostrils, and down an alley until we're at the front of the building. I look at the car park. My white Honda sits alone in the corner. I look again. No sign of Dylan's truck.
I start to run when Tracie catches my elbow. "Jasmine, I-" She doesn't finish her sentence. I know what she's thinking, though.
What must she have done to make her husband so mad?
"Thank you," I whisper, leaving her alone as I run for my car. My shoe falls off but I don't stop to get it, the gravel digging into the soles of my feet making me cry out. Tears run unchecked down my cheeks and I dig frantically through my purse for my keys, my shaking hands dropping them twice before I manage to get in, tossing my purse across the passenger side and peeling out of the car park.
The way that Cutter stood in front of me, trying to protect me. Will Dylan think I chose Cutter over him?
My heart races and my stomach twists as I think about lying to him about where I work. What will my punishment be?
A car horn blares and I swerve back onto my side of the road. Dylan won't forgive the fact that I walked away from him. It's the first time I have done it in five years.
The feel of his fingers linked with mine is amazing. We've only been dating a month but I think I'm really falling for Dylan. He is so sweet and caring. He waits for me after class and carries my bag. He makes me feel like the most important girl in the world.
Someone calls my name. I hold up a hand to stop Dylan talking and turn to see Nate from math class. "Jasmine, come here. I have to ask you something."
I try to let go of Dylan's hand but he grips tighter. It's a little uncomfortable.
"Stay."
I laugh at him. "Don't be silly, he just needs to ask me something. I'll be right back."
I walk toward Nate and his friends, but Dylan keeps a hold on my hand. I spin and blow him a kiss, tugging my fingers away and jogging over to Nate.
"Hey, when did Mrs. Norman say the exam was? I was half asleep today and I need to get my shit together." Nate hikes his backpack up on his shoulder and his bangs flop over his face.
"She said next Friday." The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but there's no breeze. A weird sensation creeps over me. I can feel Dylan watching.
"Thanks, see you in class." Nate flicks me a wave and nods back at Dylan before nudging his friends and walking toward the sports field. Dash laughs at him and ruffles his hair and I smile, turning to walk back to Dylan.