I Have To Do This

Skipping out on the day isn't an option, no matter how tempting it might be. Travel around the city isn't going to teach or show me anything, after all I'd already been on this particular tour, but I still needed to actually be there. Couldn't afford getting in trouble, academic probation, all the rest of it.

Getting on the bus wasn't an option but catching up with them was. And hopefully I could manage to sweet talk my way into not having it recorded down that I'd missed things, if I promised to make it up by being the very best and most eager participant in the days events.

I could still pull this off, but first I needed to catch up. Specifically I needed to get to where they were going before they got there.

Thinking fast I dash down to the road, pounding my way down through the commons until I reach the edge of campus and the streets that adjoin to it. A busy throughfare surrounds campus and I use that to my advantage, reaching the road and immediately throwing a hand up to flag down a cab that cuts across two lanes of traffic and comes to an abrupt stop next to me.

I just reach out and grab the door handle, yanking it open and sliding in without thinking as I slip into the passenger seat instead of the back and breathlessly tell the driver, "Downtown, East and Fourth. As fast as you can." before slamming the door shut again.

I know where the orientation is going and I know that the cab, driven by someone with a reckless disregard for pesky impedences like the speed limit, can get there in more than half the time. That's if he's the right kind of cabby.

The fact that he takes off so quickly that I can barely even get my seatbelt fastened is a good sign, and he pulls out and cuts across, blaring through a late yellow that is really a whole lot more of a red as he turns off down a sidestreet and roars down the road with more confidence than I've ever had in my life.

I catch my breath. I try to at least.

And glancing over at him I spy a driver whose hands are practically white knuckle on the wheel and whose jaw is set. I spy a man who has long since lost the lightning fast reflexes of youth but instead has accomodated with the far more capable experience. Wrinkles, deep ones, creasing the edges of his eyes and the furrow of his brow. A thick spat of stubble that is more than grey and hair that is more than a little greasy.

He's got a paunch, obviously accustomed to spending his days seated. He smells of stale smoke and sweat, just like his cab. He is not an attractive man, jowls on his cheeks and teeth that are a little yellowed when he curls back his lips in a determined sneer as he makes a quick turn and cuts off someone else.

Solidly built, this is a powerful kind of man. A man who seems to fill up the space even if he is sinking into the seat he's sitting in all the same. He is a man who feels as much a part of this cab as this cab is a part of him.

He is, in the end, a man that I know instantly I don't want to fuck with.

"In a rush, huh?" he asks, almost to no one, just making the smalltalk that is expected.

I nod, curling up and clenching my legs together as I try to avoid noticing that my stocking clad thighs are on plentiful display, "Yeah. I need to get downtown fast. Have to meet up with my orientation group."

"Freshman, darling?" he asks me, his voice melodical but sounding like he had to hesitate from calling me 'Fresh Meat' instead.

"Yeah," I shudder, noticing the way he tears his eyes off the road for just an instant to take me in, "I'm a freshman."

"Figured," he stops abrupt and short at a stoplight, turning fully in his seat to look at me as he addresses me directly, "You looked like a freshman when I saw you on the side of the road. All fresh faced and flush and innocent."

I laugh, pretending that he's making a joke. And I hug my bag closer to myself as well, squeezing it almost protectively against his lecherous interest.

"Well then sweetie," he gives me another moniker, "Welcome to town. Remind me to give you my card, in case you or any of your girlie friends ever needs a ride or even a tour around the town. Believe me. A man like me knows his way around a thing or two. Knows how to have some real fun."

He peels off with a roar and a laugh, bursting through the light and surely on his way to getting me to my destination well in advance of my deadline.

But there is a problem. There is absolutely a problem.

Because when I squeezed my bag tight to me I noticed that it was lighter than it ought to be. Emptier than it ought to be.

Because in my rush to get out of the house I'd emptied it out on my bed. Tossed the books to one side. Tossed everything to one side.

Everything.

Everything.

Including my wallet.

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