I’ve Been Tracking This Girl For Weeks But Something Tells Me The Tables Have Turned

I swerved my truck to the left and pulled up right next to her as I tried to regain control of the truck. The roads were slippery with the mushy corpses of Fall leaves and rain and I wasn’t sober enough to keep a good grip on my driving skills. I held tight on the wheel and tried to correct, but couldn’t. I swerved to the right, directly at the front of Tarah’s car, before I was able to get past her and strafed the front of her vehicle.

The next few seconds were a blurred panic of tires squealing, hard stomps on the brakes and spinning headlights. I thanked God my truck hadn’t flipped when I finally came to a stop just up the highway and saw the headlights of Tarah’s car pointed at the back of my vehicle. This might work after all.

I gave myself a few seconds to breath. Checked for blood on my face in the rear-view mirror. I was clean. Well, as clean as I could be. I could still smell the scent of motor oil in my beard which never seemed to go away like rancid cologne.

I opened the door of my truck and slowly walked back towards Tarah’s car. I know what I look like and didn’t want to alarm her. I gave her a friendly wave as I approached and kept my hands out of my pockets and visible.

I wasn’t surprised that Tarah didn’t roll down the window when I approached, but I was surprised she wasn’t looking at me. She seemed to be doing something with a jacket which was in her passenger seat. I gave the glass a soft knock. I figured that was better than having her look to her left and just see me there in the window like a psycho killer from an 80s slasher movie.

Knocking wasn’t a great tactic either. Tarah let out an ear-piercing scream right after I did so.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I answered back in my nicest voice.