Free Since You've Been Gone by Mary Jennifer Payne Page B

real life easier sometimes.
    â€œCan I get a grande caramel macchiato and a croissant, please?” I ask the girl behind the counter.
    â€œWhipped cream?”
    I smile. “Of course.”
    She smiles back at me as she grabs a cup. “Takeaway or eat in?”
    I look outside. The sky is clearing and the rain has finally stopped, leaving the sidewalks awash with tiny puddles that glisten under the streetlamps. I want to get back to the flat before it gets very late. Especially since I really have no idea where I am.
    â€œTo go. I mean, takeaway.”
    â€œAre you just visiting?” she asks. A generous helping of fluffy white cream is spooned on top of my drink.
    â€œNope. I live nearby.” Even though I know this Starbucks chick is completely harmless, the question still makes me jumpy. I can’t shake the fear that I might still be followed or, worse yet, that somehow Dad has managed to get everyone in London searching for me.
    Outside, the cold air hits me like a slap. The warmth from the cup soothes my bare hands as I continue to walk up the street until I come to a fork in the road. I follow the right side, emerging a few minutes later onto a massive expanse of flat, green land. In the distance, headlights from a traffic jam litter the night like tiny fireflies.
    I walk along, pulling my jacket up as far as I can to try to cover my neck and block out the biting wind. Though I can’t be that far from New Cross, I have no idea what direction to walk in to get back. Being alone on a dark field makes me want to scream my skin inside out, but I know I need to stay calm. I’m probably a thousand times safer right now than I’ve ever been walking around Regent after dark and I’d done that loads of times. Yet I can’t shake the fear that Dad knows where I am and that it’s just a matter of time before he catches up to me.
    After what seems like ages, I reach the road and stand, my face illuminated by the headlights of the cars, trying to figure out which way to walk. Though I can see the shadows of a few houses away to my left and across the road, the area is strangely deserted. It’s hard to believe I’m still in London. I look over my shoulder. The lights of Blackheath twinkle behind me. I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life.
    Eventually I find a 171 bus that is heading back to New Cross. I don’t know what to expect back at the flat. Part of me wonders if maybe I was wrong about the man and woman. Maybe they have nothing to do with him; perhaps someone ratted me out and they were sent from the school to inform Mom about the missing money. Except Mom is missing. And deep down I believe the visit happening so soon after Mom disappearing isn’t a coincidence.
    I get off the bus and take a different route back to the flat just in case anyone is watching. Not going back to the flat isn’t an option unless I want to spend the night on the streets.
    Every step I take seems to echo along the pavement. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched and stop several times like a spy from some kid’s cartoon to hide behind a tree, staying still for several minutes to see if anyone emerges from the shadows to search me out.
    I make it to our building and hurry quickly along the concrete walkway toward the stairwell.
    A hooded shadow emerges from behind one of the parked cars as I pass. Every muscle in my body stops and tenses. The sound of my heart pounding fills my ears.
    â€œAbout time. Freezing my balls off out here.”
    Jermaine pulls back his hood, leans against the car, and regards me carefully. What does he want? Suddenly I’m afraid. I thought his threat was empty. Clearly I was wrong.
    â€œAre you some kind of psycho stalker?” I snap, jabbing my index finger at him. “How did you know I lived here?”
    â€œI followed you after school.” He doesn’t seem angry anymore. “Wanted to see if you were