To the Stars Page 62

“The seats will be fine,” he said after only a second to consider. I could tell by his body language that he was anxious to start driving.

Once we were driving out of the neighborhood, he began talking again. “This is Spartacus,” he said, gesturing toward the Rottweiler who was sniffing and licking the jacket I was wearing. “I’m Max, but I guess that’s weird since everyone your age calls me Mr. Farro.”

“Low,” I responded, my voice still too hoarse to sound normal. When it looked like he was waiting for me to finish speaking, I clarified, “My name is Low.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Interesting name.”

“Thank you so much for doing this.”

Max waved off my thanks. “Just consider what I said. Things seem fun at the time, and it can be fun and exciting to rebel, but you can end up regretting it. Trust me, I’ve been there before—and I have to see it all the time with my students.”

Again, I didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’m sorry, but may I use your phone?” I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t know where I was going; I also didn’t know how I was going to explain it once we got into Thatch, but I needed to let Knox know I was coming.

After debating for a few seconds, he reached into his pocket and pulled a phone out. “Don’t go calling your boyfriend or anything. Call your parents, or someone who can help you out tonight.”

Despite the afternoon and evening that had been weighing me down, I smiled to myself. He talked like a grandpa who thought he needed to make sure I went down the right path in life. If I weren’t covered in blood and bruises, I would’ve given anything to see his reaction if I pulled off my hood. “Of course,” I murmured.

After dialing Knox’s number, I held my breath while it rang and rang, and my stomach sank when his voice mail eventually picked up. No. No, I need to get to you, I don’t know how to find you! I hung up and tried again, but got the same result. This time I left a short, direct message.

“It’s Low, I’ll be in Thatch soon.”

I hung up and reluctantly handed Max’s phone back to him. I hoped his phone would ring sometime on the drive, but it didn’t. So I sat there worrying over how I was going to find Knox, and what was going to happen with my family and Collin, while letting Spartacus lick my borrowed jacket and listening to Max talk about the history class he taught at Hanford High School.

“Where to?” Max asked when we entered Thatch.

“Uh . . .” I looked around, not knowing what to do. Thatch was a small town—incredibly small—but I still couldn’t go door-to-door. That would take forever, and again, would probably result in police. “You can just drop me off here,” I suggested as we came up on a few shops.

“Are you sure?” Max asked, his tone disapproving. He was in grandpa mode again. Mid-twenties going on sixty.

“Yes, I’d prefer it, if you don’t mind.”

With a heavy sigh, Max pulled his car over. He sent me a wary glance and once again tried to look in my hood. “You keep yourself safe, get yourself home, and thank your parents for being so awesome.”

I cracked another smile I knew he couldn’t see. “Of course. Thank you, Max.”

“That’s Mr. Farro to you,” he said, his voice teasing.

I stumbled out of his car, and tried to gain my footing as quickly as possible without showing any more signs of how dizzy or uncomfortable I was. I couldn’t tell if my head was bleeding anymore, but it had bled enough, and now that I was standing again, everything was tilting to the side—making me feel like I was drunk.

Concentrating on each step, I put one foot in front of the other and walked into a little shop directly in front of me. And only then did Max drive off.

“Can I help you?” a man asked from behind the counter. “Before you demand it, I don’t have more than thirty bucks in the register.”

“Oh, I don’t want—no, I—” I huffed, and only regretted my wardrobe choice for a second before remembering it was necessary. “I just need to find Knox Alexander.”

Like Max had done, the man squinted as he tried to see in the hood. “Know him, don’t know how to get in touch with him. Sorry, little lady.”

I nodded and thanked the man, then went to the next shop, only to get similar results—that time complete with a death glare from a girl standing in the store. The next place over, which was half coffee shop, half bookstore, had at least a dozen people in it and made me feel a little more hopeful. But I was now swaying again from how long I’d been standing. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to make it all the way to the front of my neighborhood earlier when I could barely stay standing for a few minutes now.

I was breathing heavily by the time I forced myself over to the counter. There was a pregnant girl probably around my age standing behind it, and her eyebrows rose when she saw me.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. And while she didn’t try to look into my hood, she kept giving me close looks, like she was worried about what I was going to do. “What can I make you?”

“Nothing. I need—”

Her eyes widened with dread, and her hands instinctively covered her swollen stomach.

“No, no I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. The hoarseness of my voice made my words sound weak and whiny, but that also could have had something to do with the fact that I knew I didn’t have long before I couldn’t keep myself upright, and I wasn’t getting any closer to finding Knox. “I just need to find Knox Alexander. I have to talk to him. Do you know him?”

The pregnant girl relaxed and shook her head. “You and every other girl in this town as well as the surrounding cities. Sorry, but you’re going to have to get in line with all the other women trying to find him again.”

Her words hurt, but what did I expect? I’d known he’d tried to forget me. I’d made him do that; I hadn’t waited for him.

“Do you know where he is? Or how to get in touch with someone who does? Or can I just use your phone?” I was desperate, and I knew I’d already tried that, but I was hoping enough time had passed that he’d answer now. “I was with him today. He will come get me, and I need to see him.”

She huffed, but she didn’t sound annoyed; there was pity behind it. “Well, now I know you’re lying. And, no, I’m not letting you use the phone, and I’m not giving you his number.”

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