Am I Really Going To Do This?

"What do you mean you ain't got the cash?" he asks me, his hand almost reflexively snapping over to flick the button that locks all the doors in the cab at once.

I don't have to check mine to know that it isn't going to open without him clicking something on his end. He's the one in control here.

When we pulled to a stop in this quiet little alley he was all goodnatured cheer. Smiling at me and quoting me the figure that was on the display and asking me how I'd like to pay. He even called me darling, dropping the last g in favor of a drawl and saying it with a delighted sparkle in his eyes.

Then I told him I didn't have any cash and all that warmth melted away.

"Credit?" he goes on, and I shake my head, "Well how the fuck are you expecting to pay me? I don't take checks."

"I forgot my wallet," I say meekly, the flush in my cheeks burning hot as I watch him narrow his eyes.

He doesn't think I'm cute anymore. He has no charm for me whatsoever, all of that evaporated and gone. Right now I'm a thief and there is only one way to deal with a thief.

"Fucking hell, girlie," he mutters under his breath, "I don't want to call the cops on you here but..."

I'm leaving him ****.

The cops. Handcuffs, not in a fun way. Jail, not in a fun way. Body searches, not in a fun way.

None of it in the fun kind of way that my brain would ordinarily hope from that experience.

So jail isn't an option. The cops and getting arrested isn't an option.

Jesus christ, I took this cab because I was worried about getting in trouble with campus administration. Here I was instead about to wind up in way worse trouble, at least unless...

"Alright then," he says, "Fucking hell girlie, this ain't gonna be fun for you."

He reaches for his phone from the place where it's mounted to the dashboard and the simple movement presses me into action. My hand snaps out and covers his, not forceful but gentle, just pushing him back for an instant as I whisper, "Wait."

The contact between us, the first, is momentaneous but electric. He yanks his hand back as if he's been shocked and fuck if I don't do the same, clutching my hands to my body as my eyes go wide and I hear the repetitive thud of my heart pounding in my chest.

"What do you think you're going to do here?" he says, "Wait for what? What is going to change? You don't have the cash? How do you think you're going to talk yourself out of this?"

"I forgot my wallet at home," I say numbly.

He shakes his head, "Ain't my fucking problem, girlie."

The driver taps a thick finger on the dollar value playing out on his display.

"I don't get a payment, I gotta explain to my boss why I'm short. You don't pay for it then I do. Only way that money ain't coming out of my pocket is if I got a police report saying you were trying to ride without paying.

"Because that's what you're doing here. You're trying to get away without paying. And no one rides for free in this life."

"I don't have cash," I say numbly, closing my eyes and grasping at my shirt, tangling it up in my fingers.

"I know," he grunts, "You already fucking said that."

"So maybe..." I mumble, "Maybe I can pay in another way."

And then I try to.

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