Breakdown (Crash into Me) Read online

Page 2


  “Smart girl.” His smile revealed not only a dimple in each cheek but a perfect set of teeth. Figures.

  “I was just asking because there isn’t a lot around here, and like I said, it’s awful late for a girl to be walking around by herself.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Well, it kind of is now,” he said. “You’re like a crime waiting to happen. And I’m a witness. You made me get involved.”

  I released my lip and went to bite one of my nails. “I’m not a walking crime.”

  “Yeah,” he scoffed, “you pretty much are. Drunks come along this road to avoid the sobriety checkpoints all the time. And the one university isn’t far from here. Some frat boys could come along and—”

  “I know,” I said. “I go to school there.”

  He grinned and gazed over the edge himself, seeming to be almost amused by my interruption. “Then what are you doing up here by yourself on a Friday night?”

  “Because I want to be.” I felt my brow lower as if we were about to duel. Why was he being so insistent about trying to help me? If that was even what he was doing—no one did something for nothing. The driver must have sensed my suspicions because he put his hands back in his pockets and frowned, an expression that changed his face considerably, but not necessarily in a bad way.

  “You aren’t really going for a walk, are you?”

  I leaned a little closer to the railing. Good looking or not, if it wasn’t for this guy, I could have been dead by now. Asleep for forever instead of freezing my butt off on some stinking overpass. I snuck my leg over the first bar of the guardrail.

  “Like I said, that’s none of your business.”

  The driver smiled again, and my heart jumped just a little. Clearly, it was ready to go over the edge, too.

  “Like I said, it is now.”

  “Please.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Go away.”

  With my hands back on the railing, I finished making my way back under the guardrail, not entirely aware of warm hands reaching out for me, only to grab fistful of Ewok hood. The slightest sense of victory came over me when the buttons of the hood came undone, leaving that in his hands and me free to dangle off the edge. As if the driver weren’t even there, my mind was laser-focused on what I had come there to do. I felt confident about my goal, and even his husky voice and nervous laugh couldn’t tempt me away.

  “Hey, come on now.” Maybe it was just the wind in my ears, but I thought I heard the driver’s voice break with urgency. “Why don’t you just come back here? Whatever it is, we can talk about it.”

  “Just get back in your car and drive away.” I closed my eyes and felt something warm slide down my face. When I reached up to catch it, it took a full few seconds for me to realize I was crying.

  “I can’t do that.”

  I adjusted my feet on the ledge and tried to select a target. Would the median of the road be better or something in a crowded lane? How much of a factor would the wind play?

  “Your feet work, don’t they?”

  “Okay.” His chuckle was nervous, cracking while he coughed and shuffled his feet. I could hear that plainly enough. “Technically, I could. But if I do, I’m just gonna call the cops, and I have a feeling you don’t want me to do that.”

  I gazed at the lines on the pavement, counting them until they were too far away to see. Immediately, I decided I would play shot-put with myself, flinging myself to the farthest distance possible via the broken yellow lines. “Wh-why are you bothering me?”

  “I told you, you’re a walking crime.” I thought his voice was softer just then, but I couldn’t be sure. “You’ve gotten me involved now, and that makes me responsible to whatever happens to you.”

  “What?” I clutched the railing tighter behind me. Was it weird that I suddenly wanted to play this little piggy with my fingers? Did that make me more of a freak or less of one? I shrugged to myself before sniffing and looking back at him. It would be too bad that I’d never get to ask anyone. “Are you one of those do-gooder types?”

  “Me?” He shrugged before the smile reappeared. To me, it seemed he was taking great care not to break eye contact, but I couldn’t be sure. “I’ve been called a lot of things but that is the first time I’ve been accused of that.” The driver’s head drooped a little. “Listen, with Big Brother everywhere and everybody suing everybody else, it doesn’t hurt for a guy to keep one foot in and an eye on everything.”

  In a way it made sense. Yet the philosophy didn’t appeal to me as it once did. At this point, it felt like it was all or nothing. I let the first little piggy go.

  “Okay, okay.” The fear in his voice was more fascinating than I first gave it credit for. “Ah, I’ll tell you what…” Cautiously, he dared to edge a little closer to me. “Let me drive you home, okay?”

  “I—” Trialing off, I cried harder. Silent tears that only made me feel worse. Instead of liberation or even the slightest feeling of relief, there was only shame. Here I was, crying in front of this perfect-looking stranger, who probably thought I was out of my mind. Could it have gotten any more pathetic?

  “Okay, then.” Again, his hands were out, pleading silently to this stranger he pitied. “Plan B. I’m supposed to be somewhere in like—” He glanced from me back to the car. “—five minutes ago. How about you come along with me and hang out with the lot of us? At the end of the night, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  I stared out at the traffic underneath us. All those unseeming people in their plain little cars with their plain little lives going somewhere they understood, somewhere they wanted. I still didn’t comprehend how it was possible to hate people and be jealous of them at the same time, but there it was. I was envious of them, all of them.

  I loathed them just the same.

  Meanwhile, the driver was over hunched on the tips of his toes as if preparing to lunge after me if he had to.

  The fact of the matter was that I had wanted to do this alone, but what if he called my bluff and called the cops? Or already had? I had been up there for a few minutes already, what if somebody else saw me and called 911? It might have taken five minutes to get back to my car, and if the authorities were on their way, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t see a cop before then, a tactical SWAT team or something equally ridiculous. Then of course I couldn’t be sure that mom with all her drama wouldn’t try to have me committed if she knew what I was doing up there—a fate worse than death, if there ever was one.

  At least if the driver was some Ted Bundy wannabe, then I’d eventually get what I wanted.

  “You’ll take me anywhere I want?”

  He smiled and held a hand out to me. “Absolutely.”

  I untangled one of my legs back around the inside of guardrail. “Even back here?”

  “I’ll even block off the road so you can jump in peace.”

  I wiped at my tears with my coat sleeve before climbing almost all of the way in. “A funny guy, huh?”

  “Now that—” He extended his hand to touch my own. “—I have been called.”

  I let my fingers rest in the palm of his hand, sort of startled that he pulled me so close to him so easily. Again, I wiped my tears and tried resisting saying something smart about not needing to jump if I had peace in the first place. It turned out to be easier than I thought. All my wit seemed to be flushed out by my tears, so I just watched while he gestured to the passenger side door. He studied me carefully while I slowly walked over, still afraid that I would change my mind and fling myself over at the last second.

  My mind sort of faded out from there, aware but not registering him getting into the driver’s seat or making a joke about safety. In fact, it probably took a full two minutes before I felt him nudging at my seatbelt.

  “Come on, you don’t want me getting a ticket, do you?”

  I put it on just to keep him quiet.

  The second I did, I felt the car shift and a sort of numbness settled into me. Stemming f
rom my bones and expanding all the way out to my skin until I was completely anesthetized. I wanted to die. I should have died, but instead I was in a car. A stranger’s car. An extremely attractive stranger’s car. Any normal girl would have thought herself lucky.

  Right then and there, however, I didn’t know just what to think or especially what to feel. Another prime example of all the things wrong with me. For a few minutes, I dwelled in the lack of sensation, feeling my way around the walls of it like a blind person might in a new room. I tasted the taste of nothing, looking at one blank canvas after another. But like a lot of addictive things, the relief that came with shock abandoned me—my tolerance for it seeming to be low. I think I cursed at myself, whether it was silently or out loud, I didn’t know.

  Once the numbness went away, my senses came back in full throttle. Everything had that much more potency to it—not unlike, I thought, how much easier mom would get drunk after a diet detox. I could smell the do-gooder’s cologne along with the leather of the seats, I could practically taste the dashboard cleaner and motor oil in my tongue, and the night looked darker while feeling brighter all at once.

  I made a mental note on how much I enjoyed shock.

  “So?”

  I blinked hard, told myself to breathe, and repeated the process. The streets were passing by as quickly as they would if we were in a train car, and my brain didn’t accept the lights and sounds of the neighborhood. For some reason, however, I did process the changing lights of the sound system in the car, the speakers that vibrated, and how the dark leather of the seats seemed to be just the right temperature to combat the cold outside.

  I shook my head. What was he So-ing me about again?

  “So what?” I let go of the seatbelt, because, like the railing, I had not even been aware of how hard I was holding it.

  As an alternative to pulling over and dumping me out like I had hoped, he gave me a snarky smile and shook his head. Like a stupid little girl, I marveled at how wonderful he continued to look when a piece of hair fell in his face. Did guys like him choreograph that sort of sexiness or what?

  “What’s your name, Jumper?”

  I scowled.

  “Fine,” he offered. “Then I’m just gonna call you Jumper.”

  “Fine, I’m going to call you Do-gooder.”

  As we passed under a streetlight, I saw him roll his eyes. “My name is Billy. Billy O’Reilly.”

  “Really? I would have guessed ‘good-for-nothing-nosy-do-gooder’.”

  He laughed. “That one must not have fit on the birth certificate.”

  I continued to watch him as we drove into the fog, the streetlights above cutting a pathway. At least I hadn’t gotten stuck with a busybody who didn’t have a sense of humor.

  Chapter Two

  When we finally came to a stop, it took me more than a minute to realize the alleyway we emerged from was actually the end of McKinley Street. Even then, I only recognized it from the remainder of the fence that bordered the old playground. I had heard rumors about how everything in the neighborhood had been destroyed by poverty and lack of care. And sure enough, the swing sets I had played on a time or two during my childhood had been taken out, and the slides were littered with graffiti and what looked like broken glass. I could see how weeds and garbage had overtaken the walkways, the sandbox completely gone.

  In the playground’s parking lot, however, cars filled every space, spilling out into the street and the overgrown soccer field. The light of a fire burning in a barrel caught my eye, and I flinched like the sight alone burned me. Why I did this I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t bother to ask.

  “What is this?”

  “The convoy,” he said.

  Do-gooder turned off the headlights as we drove up, which didn’t seem to be a big deal since other people in “the convoy” had their lights on, and they were just as bright as Do-gooder’s were. I pressed my cheek against the window and let the cold seep in. I could barely keep my tired eyes pried open, despite the extraordinary vehicles around us.

  Painted in bright neons, pinks, blues, reds, and every other color of the rainbow, I could have possibly imagined some of the cars were ramped up on large tires, while others had lights around the tires and grills, under the body, and what looked like the insides of the doors. With side-opening doors, hydraulic fronts, and fire roaring from their pistons, the other cars looked positively violent.

  I wanted to ask more questions, a million and one questions. But before I could, a guy in a faux leather jacket came over to the driver’s side window. While he didn’t seem surprised to see me, I flinched again before I could stop myself. It was as though, since I had already prepared myself for death, my body had, too. I was just readjusting to seeing another human being—groups of people were out of the question.

  “Where have you been, Billy? We’re about to leave.”

  “My bad.” Do-gooder shrugged. “I had to make a pit-stop.”

  “Uh-huh. I see that.” The guy with the leather jacket looked me up and down before wiggling his eyebrows. “Hello there.”

  I ignored him and put my forehead back up against the window. Girls in tight mini-skirts tried to get warm by pushing themselves up against cars and what I guessed were their drivers. If the girls were trying to get the drivers’ attentions away from the cars, it only seemed to work about half the time.

  “Damn, Billy. You gotta turn the heat on in here.” His friend laughed after imitating a shiver. Do-gooder didn’t.

  I turned my head back to Do-gooder and his friend, feeling a slight sense of awe that his good looks hadn’t worn off yet. Even when I saw an attractive actor on TV, it usually wore off within the first ten minutes of bad acting. Maybe, I hoped, I could blame this on my almost near-death experience.

  “Jumper, this is Cosmo. Cosmo, this is Jumper. Watch out, Jumper, because while you might be a walking crime, Cosmo here is a walking VD.”

  I rolled my eyes at the lame joke. “Are you an advocate for abstinence, too, Do-gooder?”

  Because I mumbled, Cosmo didn’t hear me, and only Do-gooder laughed. Still, I was surprised that he did, surprised that he had responded to me at all.

  “On the contrary, Jumper, I’m a safe sex advocate.” In the dark, I looked over to see him smile at me. “I believe in doing things the right way.”

  Despite almost being dead, I blushed.

  A high-pitched whistle interrupted a conversation that was well on its way to being lurid. I was incredibly grateful for the distraction, too, until I looked up to see two particularly pretty girls waving at Do-gooder with their slim fingers and long fingernails. Instead of waving back, Do-gooder sighed and tapped the speedometer.

  “Hey there, ladies.” Cosmo waved at them playfully, but they only laughed and tromped away.

  “Hell, Billy, if you don’t want them, I’ll take them.”

  “I don’t think they’re his to give.” I tugged on my seatbelt and watched the pretty girls walk away. With their sparkly jewelry and big hair, I thought maybe they looked like the girls mom wanted me to be—the child she couldn’t make me no matter how many trips to the mall she had all but forced on me.

  Do-gooder looked at me and smiled. “You heard the lady, Cosmo. Now are we going or what? I gotta burn some rubber.”

  “Bad condom jokes? You really are passionate about your cause.” I unbuckled my seatbelt. If something illegal was happening, the last thing this guy was worried about was a ticket for safety, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to sacrifice my comfort to save him a fifty-dollar fine.

  “I’m passionate about a lot of things, Jumper.” He chuckled softly.

  My face did something funny then, twitching at the lips and going up just a little until the muscles started to hurt from lack of use.

  Once I realized I was smiling, I stopped instantly.

  Before any more inappropriate jokes could be exchanged, someone less interesting- looking stepped out in front of a set of headlights. The only real noticeab
le thing about him was the flashlight he carried and how he waved into the crowd. And while it was insignificant to me, the signals had every set of headlights on and engines roaring almost simultaneously. Given what Cosmo said next, I guess I must have flinched in my seat.

  “I see where she gets the name from.” Cosmo laughed. “I’ll see you guys there?”

  Though it was quick, I felt Do-gooder’s eyes glance at me, the response to his friend seeming to be just as quick. “Definitely.”

  I watched with a strange feeling of what I could only call interest while Do-gooder and his friend exchanged something between a fist bump and a high five. A second later, Cosmo ran off into the roar of engines. For how strange my last night on Earth had been, he could have disappeared into a puff of smoke for all I knew.

  “Seatbelt.” Do-gooder didn’t even look at me when he said it, the feel of our own engine startling me again as we took off.

  Obeying, I put the seatbelt back on and kept my complaints to myself. I figured if he was taking me back to the overpass the least I could do was keep my grumbling to a minimum. Except, as we pulled off the road, we didn’t turn left the way we had come, but turned right, falling in line with the rest of the convoy of tricked out cars and trucks.

  “I thought you said you’d take me back.”

  “Yeah.” Even when being condescending, the sound of his voice was pleasant. “After you hang out with us.” Do-gooder’s grinning reflection stared back at me from the windshield. “Oh, did you think that was it?” He laughed like I was an idiot, making him no less attractive, but twice as annoying. “No, that was just inspection. We were lucky to make that when we did.”

  As much as I enjoyed his voice, the way it had bartered a reprieve for my life—however brief that reprieve might have been—it didn’t give Do-gooder a license to talk to me like I was a kid, some dunce who needed to be talked down to.

  It didn’t, did it?

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a moron.” I gritted my teeth together, hoping if I did it hard enough I could grind my entire skull to powder. “I’m not a moron.”