My Escape Chapter 11

**Hey peoples! So, I have to be at work in like an hour, but I decided to post this really long chapter because I'll probably be busy all week :( Anyways, this chapter is insanely long. I hope you like it! Please comment!**

When I woke up the next morning, I started at the ceiling. I just stared. I didn’t do anything more - well I did breathe, but still - I just stared. Last night, I hadn’t gotten any thinking done. I had checked in at the closest Holiday Inn to the interstate, gone up to my room, hopped in the shower, and cried.
I didn’t know how long I had been in that shower, but it had been a while; long enough for the hot water to run out. The people staying next to me probably weren’t very happy. Then after my shower, I had walked downstairs to the little store, bought some tooth paste and a tooth brush, gone back up to my room, and then went to sleep.
So now, I was here, in a comfortable hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. I was trying to map out my plan for when I got back home. Odds were that my dad wouldn’t have even noticed since he had been so screwed up last night. My brother had probably stayed out at a friend’s house, so no one missed me.

That was good, though. Or at least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. There wouldn’t be any grounding - not that there was really anything to ground me from - and there wouldn’t be any lectures. I would walk into my house, go up to my room where I belonged, and work on my article.
It would be completely the same.
But I still didn’t want to leave the Holiday Inn. I wanted to stay as long as I could. I had my credit card for emergencies, and I could wear the hotel robe. All I wanted to do was stay in bed. Maybe I would gain a few pounds, but oh well.
For once, I didn’t want to work hard. I didn’t want to care about anyone else. I wanted to do something for me. And that something was skip some days of school and home. Maybe it would be okay.
My phone buzzed from the recliner where I had dropped it last night. Really? People never called me. So when I was supposed to be on vacation from people, someone decides to call me?

But I don’t even get out of the bed. I barely even stir. Whoever called can wait. I was not going to risk this blissful solitude just so I could answer a phone call. Odds were that it was a telemarketer.
But when it rang for the sixth time in two hours, I decided to pick it up and see who was ruining my vacation. The caller ID said "Jack Ass." How the hell had Oliver gotten my number and why was he calling me? I specifically remember him tossing me his number one day at the ice-cream parlor and telling me "You know you want a piece of this." I also remember I had never given him my number. So how had he gotten it? Was my phone number making its way around town or something?
He had a beautiful girlfriend. What did he want with me? Sometime during the course of the morning, I had decided to just forget about Oliver Carter. It was obvious that we would never stop arguing and just get together. Maybe I had thought differently last night in my car, but when Tanya had shown up, well, it taught me not to even spare my heart.
Why date him if it would only hurt me in the end? It wouldn’t be worth it.

So I didn’t pick up the phone. What would he tell me anyways? It couldn’t be anything good. It was obvious he wasn’t going to break up with Tanya. So why even put myself through having to talk to him? It was going to be painful and it was going to hurt me. It just wasn’t worth it.
I got out of my bed and then stretched my legs. They were so stiff from sleeping - I looked over at my clock - fifteen hours. Holy shit! I had never, ever slept that long before. It was almost four thirty in the afternoon.
So that meant it was almost time for dinner. Crap. I walked over to the desk by the wall and grabbed the hotel pamphlet. I looked at the number for room service and then dialed the number on my hotel room phone.
When I was finished ordering, I sank back down underneath the covers, and turned on the TV. A chick flick was playing on the channel that I watched whenever I actually did watch TV, which wasn’t often. I wasn’t in the mood to see the quiet girl get the popular guy, so I switched the channel.

MTV wasn’t playing music videos, just trashy reality shows, and the news was covering a local parade. There wasn’t anything on TV. Then my cell phone started ringing again. I looked over at the caller ID and it said "Jack Ass" yet again.
I pressed the ignore button and then looked at all of my missed calls. Out of the seven, three were from Greg, and four were from "Jack Ass". Greg probably needed a ride somewhere and Oliver was probably going to try and explain last night to me. What was he going to say? What could he say to make everything better? Nothing.
So with that thought, I silenced my phone and then walked into the bathroom. I looked beyond pathetic, I noted, when looking at myself in the mirror. I sighed. After brushing my teeth and my hair, washing my face, and putting on some chap stick, I walked back into the bedroom.
Within two minutes, there was a knock at my door. I tightened the belt on my robe and then turned the metal knob. An old lady with a hairnet appeared before me with a metal cart and a tray of food on top. She handed me the food and after I gave her a two-dollar tip, she was gone.

I opened the top to the tray of my food and my stomach growled at the sight. I had ordered a bowl of cheese grits and a side of toast and bacon.
It took me about ten minutes to eat it and within that ten minutes, my phone managed to ring twice. Oliver and Greg seriously needed to stop calling me. But then a beep was left after the second call and I knew that one of them had left a voice mail. Well, I wasn’t going to listen to it.
But then I realized sitting alone in a hotel room was, well, boring and lonely. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to, no fattening snack foods to pig out on. Maybe I didn’t talk to many people at home, but at least some social interaction took place.
Maybe I was lonely at home, but it was nothing compared to the isolation I felt at this place. It may have been the bland wallpaper or the boring comforter, but something made me feel even more abandoned here at the Holiday Inn.
So with that, I made my way over to my cell phone and then called my voice mail. I really didn’t want to hear it if it had been Oliver, but what if it had been Greg? The monotone voice started off, "You have one new voicemail."

But then a sexy, seductive voice I knew picked up where the robot left off. Only when he talked, it wasn’t sexy or seductive. It was panicked. "Kara, I’m at your house, and Greg said you haven’t been home since last night and is really worried. I’ve tried calling, but you won’t pick up. Kara, I’m really worried. Please call me back. Your dad doesn’t know, but Greg says its better that he doesn’t…please call me back, Kara. We need to talk. We need to know that you’re okay."
Oh no. I had thought that Greg wouldn’t even be home to notice I hadn’t come home, but he had. Shit. No wonder they had called me seven times today. I immediately hung up on the voice mail and then dialed Greg’s number. He picked up on the first ring. "Kara, are you okay?"
"I’m fine, I just…" I started, but he cut me off furiously.
"What the hell were you thinking? This isn’t like you…where the hell are you?" he wasn’t even coherent. All of his words and statements were rushed, panicked. He sounded like he had been so scared, but now he seemed angry.
I sighed and told him, "At the Holiday Inn in Charleston."

"What the fuck? Why are you all the way over there?" he demanded and I heard him start his car in the background. He wasn’t coming to get me, was he? Then I heard him yell, "Get in the car!"
I heard another deeply familiar voice ask, "Is that her?" Oliver sounded overly anxious as well.
Greg told him, "She’s in Charleston. You’re going to drive her car back." But then he told me, "Don’t even think about leaving. We’re coming to get you. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes."
"I can drive myself home!" I protested. I wasn’t a child. They could trust me to drive home by myself.
If it all possible, I could hear Greg roll his eyes at me over the phone. He finalized, "We’re coming to get you. I don’t want you going somewhere else."

I huffed, said, "Fine," and then hung up on him. Even though I was somewhat glad he had been worried, I was still pissed that he didn’t trust me to drive home by myself. And why did Oliver have to come with him? That was just going to make everything embarrassing.
The fact that the two of them were worried about me, though, did lift my spirits. It may have been a little selfish of me, but the fact that they cared about me made me realize that maybe I wasn’t alone. It wasn’t as if I had done this whole thing just so that they’d worry about me. In fact, I had thought that they wouldn’t even care.
Well, I had been right about one thing. My dad didn’t care. But for once, I wasn’t going to let that bother me. At least Greg cared. Oliver did too, well, maybe. It was always so hard to tell with him. His intentions were never that clear.
An hour later, when I heard fists pounding against my hotel room door, I cringed. Oh no. The two of them were here. I didn’t know who I was afraid of more. Greg was bound to be livid. I had no idea how Oliver was going to be. So basically, I was terrified to see either of them.

I slowly walked over to the door, and then cautiously pulled it open, scared to see what the other side held. When I saw their faces, I realized that I had been so right to be scared. They both - even Oliver - looked super pissed. "Hey," I greeted meekly.
Greg stormed into the room, Oliver on his heels. I shut the door behind them and then took a deep breath. Maybe I’d be okay. Maybe. But then I realized something. The two of them were rivals. They were supposed to hate each other. I mean, they were supposed to, right?
No one said anything for a minute. They both looked at me as if I was this horrible creature. It was so hard to look at either of them. If I looked at Greg, I was reminded of my horrible home life. If I looked at Oliver, then I realized…well, too many things to explain. But let’s just say that the feeling wasn’t at all pleasant.
"What do you want me to say?" I demanded, crossing my hands over my shoulders. "Y’all are the ones who overreacted." I didn’t mean to be rude or anything, but I guess it just came out that way.

Greg said, "You didn’t come home and you didn’t call! How the hell are we supposed to react?" He looked like he had been so scared. God, I felt so bad. It was probably worse for him too, seeing as how he knew what it was like to lose someone close to him. I knew that if I thought Greg was gone, I would be devastated. He continued, "And then Oliver tells me how upset you were last night! God Kara; what the fuck is wrong with you?" He sounded so exasperated. He had probably thought that I had done to myself what my mom had done to herself.
I frowned and then looked over at Oliver. He was trying not to directly meet my gaze, but I could tell he was about to give in. But he didn’t in time. I eventually got tired of trying to accuse him with my eyes, so instead I said, "What are y’all doing talking about me in the first place?"
Oliver finally said, "I came by your house at around noon because I needed to talk to you. Greg answers the door, tells me what’s going on, and asks me if I saw you. So I tell him I did."

So he had tried to talk to me today? Thank God I hadn’t been home. Well, at least running away had one advantage. But now I was sure that talk wasn’t going to be fun at all. Greg sat down on the bed and said, "I can’t believe you did that. Why’d you do it anyways?"
"I did it because I didn’t want to go home. Do you even realize what yesterday was?" I asked him pointedly. He probably had no idea because he evaded the house at all costs. He left me alone to deal with dad and I hated that. Having to deal with my dad was hard enough, but having to do it alone was the hardest thing ever. It was much harder than AP Calculus.
When realization didn’t sink in, I told him, "October thirteenth. And you left me alone to deal with him."
When the realization did dawn on him, he looked so apologetic it was almost scary. He looked up at me and said, "I…I didn’t know…"
"Because all you care about is your popularity and I’m sick of it. I can’t even have a life because I’m too busy cleaning up or cooking for you and dad." I told him, tears stinging my eyes. I had never told him this before and it felt good to let it out. But then again, it felt horrible. I knew the pain I was inflicting upon him and I knew it wasn’t fair. He was having fun and I was taking it away from him.
But wasn’t I allowed to have fun, too?

Oliver said, "I’ll be in the car," and then walked out of the room.
Greg stood up and then walked over to me. He looked so upset and guilty that it made me want to cry. I was taking away his senior year. That made me feel insanely guilty, but then again, he was taking mine too. He had been taking my school years since the end of sophomore year. And it was about time that ended.
He said, "I’m sorry. I…just…I didn’t know that it was so bad for you…" He embraced me in a hug and for once, I didn’t think of my brother as star quarterback. Because now, he actually felt like my twin brother. Now, he seemed like the guy who had been there with me when we had found out about my mom.
He wasn’t a stranger anymore.
Greg and I talked for about twenty minutes before realizing that Oliver was in the car and waiting on us. I really didn’t want to see Oliver after what had happened last night, but Greg had told me that Oliver had seemed terrified when he found out I was missing. He probably felt guilty; nothing more.

We checked out of the hotel and then Greg and I walked out into the parking lot. The sun hit me more than I had been expecting. I had been cooped up in a hotel for a while, so the outdoor sun was somewhat releasing. I breathed in the fresh air and I automatically felt better.
My stomach was in knots and tears were on the verge of falling. Today and yesterday had been so emotional and the tears seemed like they would never stop. But for now, they weren’t running down my face - thank God. Oliver couldn’t see me like that anymore. I didn’t want him to see me as emotional, even though he had already had his fair share of my emotions.
Last night, I had wept on his shoulder. I regretted that decision more than anything. I tried reassuring myself that I leaned on him because he had been the only person there, but I couldn’t even believe that. I knew why I had cried on him. I had thought that maybe he would be there for me. And he had been. Only he had taken it away from me not five minutes later.

He was sitting in my brother’s Jeep when we walked up, talking to someone on his phone; probably Tanya. I tried to ignore the wave of jealousy that washed over me, but I just couldn’t help it. I hated how I had no control over myself when it came to Oliver.
From the looks of it, he didn’t seem too happy. His mouth was curved downward into a grim frown and when he talked it seemed as if he was yelling. As we got closer to the Jeep, I could confirm he was yelling at someone. Aw. Were he and his perfect girlfriend having a spat?
Greg pressed the button to unlock the doors and then whipped open the driver’s door. He told Oliver, "You’re driving her car," and then threw him my car keys. With an impressive catch, Oliver nodded, still on his cell phone, and then climbed out of the Jeep. I could hear him arguing over the phone as he made his way over to my car. It silenced as soon as he got into the driver’s seat of my 1999 Honda Accord.
As I got climbed into my brother’s Jeep, I remembered how jealous I used to be of it. It was a newer model with a bunch of gadgets and he worked his ass off to pay for it. When he was twelve, he decided that in order to get a nice car, he needed to start working. The only legal job he could get was mowing lawns for people around the neighborhood, so he did just that.

So when he turned sixteen and got his license, he showed up at home with a brand new license and a brand new Jeep Wrangler. And now that he was seventeen—almost eighteen - the car was still in as great a shape as ever. He cared more about his Jeep than he did about his grades, and he had to have decent grades to stay on the football team.
But for me, my car had been a freebie. My mom had gotten it for me a couple of months before her "accident" from a friend who was going to sell it cheap. Somehow or another, my mom had persuaded him to give it to me and he had. That was one of the last time’s my mom looked happy.
I could still remember her face as she knocked on my bedroom door and exclaimed, "Come down stairs! We have a present for you!" I had been fifteen, didn’t even have a license, and she had gotten me a car. Back then, the gift had shown me how much she cared about me. But then a few months later when my dad found her passed out cold, I realized how little she cared about me.
He blasted the air and turned on the radio, snapping me out of my thoughts, thank God. I hated it when I thought about my mom.

When Greg was with his friends, I knew that he listened to rap even though he hated it. But when he was by himself or with me in the car - which was rarely ever - he listened to soft rock. His favorite band of all time was U2 and he even had an autographed Bono hat in his room. He had gone to the concert alone.
As we pulled onto the interstate, Greg asked me, "So what’s up with Oliver? He must care about you if he came here with me and drove your car home."
I knew that Greg wouldn’t even mention the conversation we had had in my hotel room. Greg was as simple at that. He took what I said to heart - hopefully - and was now going to pretend like it never even happened. He would probably be around the house a little bit more, but other than that, no major changes would occur.
But that was okay with me, because if that topic was brought up again it would be depressing and embarrassing. So Greg and I were totally on the same page when it came to that. Being twins did have its advantages.

"He has a girlfriend," I told him, looking out of the window. The cars on the sides of us were just blurs, kind of like how Oliver and I had been. Maybe we had had a thing. Maybe I hadn’t wanted it to be a thing, but it kind of just ended up that way. But that thing was now over, just like the cars were no longer in sight.
Greg chuckled and I demanded, "What’s so funny?"
He laughed again and then said, "It’s just that this is so cliche, you know? Boy wants girl, girl wants boy, but girl can’t have boy because boy has another girl but would rather be with the other girl."
I looked at him totally and utterly confused. "What the hell did you just say?"
He turned down the music and then quickly switched lanes to avoid an eighteen wheeler. "Look, if Oliver didn’t like you, then he wouldn’t have come over today just to talk to you. If he didn’t like you, he would avoid you. So he must have something for you. And besides, I saw his face when I told him you were missing. Kara, the boy has it bad."
I shook my head and said, "No he doesn’t. And anyways, I don’t want a boyfriend." I already had so much to deal with: newspaper, trying to become valedictorian, my falling apart family…so much to do and having a boyfriend would screw it all up.

"Oh, give it up Kara. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you like him too."
"Since when are you cupid?" I snapped at him, angry that he was accusing me of liking Oliver Carter. I didn’t like him. I didn’t. "And he’s your biggest rival, Greg. Do you not forget that?"
"That’s so stupid. Maybe other guys on the football team hate Oliver, but when I think of how happy you’d be with him…it makes me not hate him so much. Besides, what if the love of my life turned out to be a rival cheerleader? Why deny yourself friends over some stupid high school rivalry?"
I looked over at him, completely awestruck. He had gotten so mature and I hadn’t even noticed. He was still my brother and everything, but he seemed so much different. Maybe he was done conforming to the wants of his football team. Maybe he was starting to embrace his individuality like he wanted to. "Where did all of this understanding come from?" I asked him.
I noticed his cheeks turn pink. He said with a smile, "Leslie. We’re together now." He looked so happy and I was ecstatic for him. Leslie was exactly what he needed. She would calm him down and reassure him that he didn’t have to be anyone but himself.
"Aw…I’m so proud of you, Greg!" I exclaimed, earning a punch on the arm. "Ow! Don’t hit me, you loser. Drive!"

He chuckled and then said, "But seriously, Kara, the two of you would be good together. Y’all have that whole love-hate thing going on."
I rolled my eyes and scoffed loudly. I reminded him, "But Oliver’s a drunk and a man-whore and…"
Greg reassured me, "Sometimes it just takes the right girl to change a guy, Kara. I’ve seen it happen a lot and it’s kind of happening to me. Maybe Oliver would care enough about you to change his ways."
"Doubt it," I muttered and then leant my head against the cool glass of the window. I was glad that Greg and I were good friends again. I needed that; needed comfort from someone other than rude, sarcastic Claire. Maybe last night I had thought that the comfort could come from Oliver, but obviously I was wrong.
But, hey, at least I had my brother.
When we got back to the house, I saw my dad’s car parked in the driveway. So he had been home and witnessed everything, but he hadn’t cared? Seriously? But when Greg told me, "I didn’t even tell dad. He was gone this morning when I found out you were gone," I felt so much better.

If my dad would have found out, would he have gone looking for me? I knew that it sounded crazy and everything, but would have my running away brought him and Greg closer? Maybe that could have worked.
Greg and I stayed in the Jeep outside until we saw Oliver pull up in the driveway. He wasn’t talking on the phone anymore and I could tell he was anxious to leave. He probably didn’t want to spend any more time around me. It was probably too awkward for him.
We all got out of the vehicles and met on the front of the lawn. Oliver tossed Greg the keys to my car and Greg told him, "Thanks, man."
Oliver smiled at me and said, "No problem. At least we found her, right?" While he looked at me, I got all of these tingles throughout my body, but then I realized how stupid I was being. He had a girlfriend, Kara, wake up! I wasn’t going to be any old home wrecker.
Greg nodded, said, "I’ll see you inside, Kara," and then made his way into the house, leaving me and the epitome of pure evil outside with me.

Before anything could be said, I said, "I’m exhausted. Better go nap." When I turned to walk into the house, Oliver did the whole familiar arm grab thing. How many times he had done it, I had no idea. But I hated it every time he did it.
"Kara…" he sighed, "I spent half the day thinking you were hurt. The least you can do is have a two-minute conversation with me."
"What is there to talk about?" I asked him, confused. We couldn’t be together because he had Tanya and I wasn’t ready to make that mistake. He wasn’t going to tell me if he was scared or not this morning because that would make it look like he had feelings and Mr. Popularity doesn’t have feelings.
"Last night," he hinted, taking a step forward.
I instinctively took a step back and he frowned. I told him, "I had a bad night and for some reason, you turned up. That’s all. It was just a coincidence."
"I’m not talking about that. But since you brought it up…" I held my hand up to silence him. I hadn’t talked to him about my mom and I wasn’t going to. Not then, not now, not ever.

"What? That you have a girlfriend? So?" Even though I tried to make myself sound as insensible, I could still hear the hurt in my voice. And I knew that if I heard it, he would hear it and point it out. That was just how evil the thing was.
He smiled goofily at me and said, "I don’t have a girlfriend."
"What? You’re trying to cheat on her or something? Because last night, it sure looked like you had a girlfriend." I wasn’t going to be the other girl. No way. I wasn’t even going to be the girl. Maybe my heart wanted me to be, but my head told me otherwise.
I had my life planned out and he was just going to ruin those plans. I hadn’t expected a guy to show up in my life until college or after wards. That had been put in my plans, but Oliver hadn’t. He had popped straight out of the blue thanks to Claire. I would have to punch her for that one day.
He frowned and said, "I would never cheat on anyone."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Spoken just like a cheater."

He scowled at me and then a determined look took over his face. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew something was about to happen. A face like that made it known something was about to happen.
He took two long strides to me, placed his hand underneath my chin, and pulled my face to his. Before I could even respond to the kiss, he pulled away. He told me, "I dated Tanya so that maybe I would get over you. But last night showed me that I don’t think I can ever get over you."
Oh no. He was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. His words made me want to curl up in his arms but I knew he was trying to play me. He had to be trying to play me. I mean, no guy would ever feel that way about me. Maybe a guy like Oliver would feel like that about a girl like me in a movie or in a book, but definitely not in real life. Definitely not in my reality. It just wasn’t plausible.

His eyes probed mine, trying to decipher exactly what I was feeling. But truth be told, I didn’t have a clue as to what I was feeling. All I knew was that I wanted to touch him, to kiss him; things that wouldn’t lead to a good decision.
So I turned my face to the side and said, "I have to go."
"Are you serious?" he asked me. "I spill my guts to you and you have to go?"
I bit down on my lower lip - I had heard once that it helps tears from falling - and look back at him. He looked so caring; like he really liked me. He must have been a really great actor. "I…I’m just…" I stammered, looking back over at the house.
I saw the curtains in the den swing shut. Either my dad or Greg had been watching. That meant either of them had saw Oliver kiss me. I sighed and told him, "Someone’s watching us from inside."
He rolled his eyes and asked me, "Do you want to come to my house to talk?"
I shook my head. Being alone at his house would definitely not come to any good things. I was already getting turned on just from the idea. God, I was pathetic! I told him, "I really am tired…I need…"

He took a step forward and gently grabbed my hand from where it had been dangling by my side. He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles and pleasant shivers shot throughout my body. He said, "Then sleep. But I’m going to be here tomorrow after school, alright? Your brother will probably have practice and your dad will be at work."
"You don’t have practice?" I asked him, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper.
He gave me that evil grin I hadn’t seen in months and said, "I can always skip."