My Escape Chapter 2

**Okay, guys, let me just start off saying that I am so sorry for the wait. First, my mom decided to rewire our wireless connection (she's technically challenged) and then I had a dance recital all day yesterday...and I've just been busy. Sorry :) Anyways, this is part 2 and part 3 will be out tomorrow, I swear. I hope you enjoy it! Please comment!

Claire told me to meet her at Sonny’s Diner on Main Street to give her the car back. Sonny’s Diner was where everyone from school always came and for that reason alone, I avoided it like the plague. Girls from my school had one main concern: boys. Oh, and if that boy happened to be a football player, they would be his slave. It was pretty pathetic to watch, actually.
Football was the big deal around here and since my brother was star quarterback at our school, I was always exposed to it. Yeah, I did like to watch the sport, but I thought that making bets and booing the other team was stupid. Whoever was the better team was the better team, right?

Besides, because of last night, I wasn’t going anywhere near a football playing boy. I didn’t have time to date period. College was nearing (a full seven months) and I had to prepare myself. I couldn’t have any more screw ups like I had last night.
So when I sat down, alone, at a table and ordered a milkshake, I wasn’t surprised to see half of the cheerleading squad flirting with half of the defensive line. They wouldn’t even give the basketball players a second glance; it was like that letterman’s jacket was made of pure gold.

Claire was fifteen minutes late, as usual. She walked into the room with her black hair all jumbled and her nose piercing taken out. She didn’t look like her normal punk self without the glittering nose stud. She walked over to my table and scolded me, "Do you have any idea how much trouble I was in last night when a-insert my grandma having a heart attack here-boy dropped me off from a party? My grandma took me to Rite Aid to get three pregnancy tests and she made me take all of them! Do you know how much piss I used up last night? God, you couldn’t have waited five minutes, you impatient little ass."
"Three pregnancy tests?"

She then flagged down a waiter and told them, "French fries and a chocolate milk shake. Step on it." When they left she told me, "I’m seriously considering joining the hobos who live underneath the bridge by the interstate. Because my grandparents are driving me insane!"
I joked dryly, "It’s not a very far drive, Claire."
She rolled her eyes at my lame attempt at a joke and then said, "Ha ha ha. You’re hysterical. You should be a clown!"
"It’s not my fault, okay? You say ‘it is just going to be a quickie and then we can leave.’ What the hell kind of a quickie takes forty-five minutes?"

"Gees, it’s not that big of a deal. It was supposed to be a party. You could have talked to someone." God, it was coming. She always gave me this rant about how I was never any fun at parties and that I should seriously consider smoking to ease my stress level. Yeah, like that would ever happen.
"I did talk to someone," I defended myself by saying. I just didn’t add the whole "and then we totally made out". I wasn’t exactly in the mood to hear her call me a slut.
"Who? The stoners don’t count as people either."
"Oliver Carter."
She placed her hands on the table and gasped. "That Oliver Carter? The one who hates your brother?"

I nodded and then she started to laugh. Was it really that funny? I hadn’t even told her the funniest part and there was no way that I was going to. You see, it had taken her and Tom two months to ever kiss each other. Back then, Claire had been trying to take it slow. But then she found out how fun it is to screw around with a guy and now that’s all she does. She tries to persuade me to give up my virginity but there’s no way I would ever do that. I didn’t have the time.
She was silent for a moment and then asked, "Where the hell is my food?" As if hearing her complaint, the frightened-looking freshman placed her order on the table and then scurried away. Were we really that frightening looking?
"Thank God!" she exclaimed and then took a big bite of her burger.

Watching her chew was when I heard the bell over the door chime indicating someone had walked into the diner. As if by reflex, I lifted my head, and then upon seeing who it was, I jerked my head down. Of course, Oliver Carter just had to walk into the diner.
He was with this one other guy whom I faintly recognized from the party last night.
The other guy had blonde hair and blue eyes; a total every girl fantasy. Well, except for me. I was more for the guys who seemed mysterious, not the ones who were into making the whole class laugh by making farting sounds on their arms.
How come it was that I never see this guy around town but once we make-out once, he pops up everywhere? Okay, so one place wasn’t exactly everywhere, but it was close enough, right? And besides, this diner was total Eastwood High property. No one from Westwood High was supposed to be over here.
He didn’t see me though, and that filled my insides with relief. Now I just really needed to convince Claire to leave early so that he never did see me. "Claire! I just remembered that Greg has practice today and his car is broken down and he doesn’t want my dad to bring him…"

Claire looked up at me and I could see a piece of French fry poking out from in between her lips. She said, "You’re kidding, right? I just got my food!"
She shook her head and then continued munching on her fries and slurping on her shake. Meanwhile, I sunk lower and lower into the booth with every movement that boy made. If he saw me here, he was bound to mention last night. If anyone mentioned that then that would mean it actually happened. But if it were only the two of us that knew, then maybe it would remain as a wannabe dream.
And since the two of them were wearing their Westwood High letterman’s jackets everyone at Sonny’s avoided them like the plague. Girls who would normally be all over guys who looked like that stayed in their respectable places among the defensive line’s laps.

Oliver and his friend took their seats at a booth not too far from here and I could hear almost every word he was saying. "Dude, that game tonight is going to be a piece of cake. We’ll get into the championships, don’t worry."
I rolled my eyes at the whole championships comment. Westwood hadn’t been in the championships since 1975 and that was only because their coach had paid off the other coach to forfeit. But, you see, Eastwood was a different story. We had played in the championship game for five years in a row and we’ve won three times. We weren’t exactly worried about whether or not we’d be in the championship game.
Then his friend asked, "So where the hell did you disappear to last night? You were gone for like thirty minutes."
My heart beat picked up in anticipation. He was going to spill the beans. He was going to tell his friend everything that had happened between us. Oliver chuckled and said, "Don’t worry about it, man."

My heart beat fell back to normal and then I took a sip of my shake. Maybe Oliver was an okay guy who never did tell people about his hookups. Besides, Oliver and I hadn’t exactly "hooked up". We really didn’t even make out. All we had done was kiss. But that kiss…it was borderline "make out." It made me shiver just thinking about it.
I asked Claire, "Can you hurry? I need to pick up my brother."
She rolled her eyes at me and said, "You know what? Go find yourself a ride. If your ass hole brother is that needy for a ride then you can walk home. Besides, I can’t stand Greg."
I huffed and then said, "Fine, I’ll wait. Hurry, though."
"Since when have you been the boss of how fast I digest my food?" she demanded. Me and Claire had always had a difficult relationship. Ninety-nine percent of the time we were fighting and then the other one percent was when we were silent trying not to fight.

We were still best friends though and I had a feeling we always would be. But as soon as Oliver caught my eye and smirked, I wanted to ground her face in with the bottom of my high heels. If she would’ve just hurried up then he wouldn’t be making his way over to our table like he is now.
"Kara, Kara, Kara," he started, a devious smirk planted on his face. Just looking at him reminded me of last night and it made me want him to…I made myself stop thinking the thoughts. I had plans. Guys made these plans so much more difficult.
"Do you have a stutter now?" I asked rudely, earning a laugh from Claire.
Oliver slid in the booth next to me and then draped his arm around my shoulder. I looked over at his friend who was still sitting at their table, looking at the menu. "Don’t you have something else you could be doing? Like walking in front of a moving bus?" I asked him.

He leant closer to me and whispered in my ear, "I love when you talk dirty to me."
His voice was so husky and seductive in my ear that I had to clench onto the table to contain myself. His hand moved onto my knee and then his finger started to make little circle patterns against the jean fabric. "Get away from me," I told him, turning my face so that I was actually looking at him.
Turns out that he was way too close to me and I felt that same feeling as last night; personal bubble popper. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my lips and he smiled wickedly at me. He murmured, "You didn’t wait around for me last night."
"I don’t like associating myself with filthy drunks," I said and then looked up at Claire for support. To my shock, she was no longer sitting there. I looked up and saw her making her way to the bathroom. I made a mental note to buy spiked boots after we left.

He chuckled and said, "Well, apparently, you don’t mind making out with one."
"Ugh! I did not make out with you."
"Tell that to my throat. It became quite good friends with your tongue last night if I remember correctly," he joked and I felt like punching him. So that was what I did. Not in his face or anything, because that would just be mean, but on the shoulder to where I hoped it hurt. It sure did make my hand a little sore.
"You can leave now," I said, turning my face away from his.
He took his hand and placed it on the side of my face. I tried to ignore the burning sensation it created in my cheeks by remembering the fact that I had a test to study for tonight. Maybe that would get my mind off of it. "Now why would I do that? We’re having so much fun…"
"I’m not. I’ve got a cocky, alcoholic, annoying, persistent, football player sitting within inches of me and I’m trying not to permanently damage his evil little face." I grabbed his hand and then tried to throw it down, but he bent his fingers around mine instead.
"Well you seem not to mind…you are holding his hand."

"What can I do to make you leave?" I asked, looking again at the diner. It seemed as if everyone present was staring at us and I did not enjoy the feeling. Claire still hadn’t come out of the bathroom and I really needed to someone to swoop in and save me.
He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and said, "Go on a date with me."
"Hell no!" I declined bluntly. If I were to ever go somewhere with him, it would be to a slaughter house and he’d be the one getting slaughtered.
I tried to ignore the unimaginable feel of his breath on my neck, but I simply couldn’t. Why was my body acting like this? Usually, around guys it didn’t do this, but with Oliver it wouldn’t shut up! "Fine, then come out with me right now so that there won’t be the whole getting ready part."

"Why? So you can molest me again like you did last night?"
"You were pretty active in the molestation last night," he pointed out with a toothy grin, bringing his face back to look at mine. "Come on…go out with me."
"I don’t have time," I told him, trying to make up an excuse that might get him away from me. I didn’t like the dirty thoughts that were going through my head at the moment. I never had these types of thoughts about guys.
"It’s the weekend and you’re a senior. They never give senior’s homework on the weekend."
"How’d you know I was a senior?"
That beautiful, toothy grin came out again as he said, "I did my homework. I asked this girl who goes to your school about you."
"Was that before or after you took off your clothes?" I spat at him. When I was around him, I couldn’t help it. Statements like this never came out, but around him they were all that came out.

I tried not to be happy that he had taken an interest in me, but I really couldn’t help it. But I forced it down underneath everything in my mind. All I could think about now was how he needed to leave.
He chuckled and asked, "Are you having thoughts about me with my clothes off? Dirty girl…"
I shoved him in the shoulder and said, "You wish. I would never waste precious thoughts on douche bags like you."
"Oliver, man, we need to go. Stop harassing the girl." I looked up at his friend and then remembered him as my savior. His letterman’s jacket said Chris. He was pretty cute when you got up close, but then I stopped myself. College, newspaper; I had so much stuff going on right now and a guy was not going to ruin that for me.
I looked at Oliver and in a very childish manner; I stuck my tongue out at him. He gave me a goofy, lopsided grin and then placed his phone number down on the table. He said, "You know you want a piece of this," and then walked away chuckling with his friend.

I rolled my eyes but then remembered something; his number might be good for something. Well after writing it in the girl’s bathroom, of course, if his team did make it to the championships, I would be able to have an interview with the rival’s quarterback. Score!
I whipped out my cell phone and inserted the number under then name "Jack Ass". Claire then sat back down across from me and giggled, "You two together are hilarious."
I rolled my eyes at her and then stole one of her French fries. "There is no ‘us two’. Trust me."
She pointed out, "It seemed like he wanted it to be."

"You know I cannot be distracted this year. Besides, I really want to be valedictorian and if I’m messing around with a distraction like Oliver Carter, it won’t happen."
She rolled her eyes at me and then said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re such a snooze. Come on, my grandma needs her ointment and I have to drive to the pharmacy after dropping you off."
After paying our bill, we walked out of the diner and then sat down in her car. I asked her, "What’s your grandma need ointment for anyways?"
She stuck her tongue out and made a disgusting little face. She asked, "Do you really want to know?"
I shook my head furiously and said, "No thanks."
She dropped me off at home and after saying she would see me later--which she probably would; her grandparents actually liked me--she peeled out of the driveway. We both loved to do that; it made us feel big and bad and important.