You answer honestly...

“I don’t have a ride… I was headed inside to call someone, so can I just-” You respond, truthfully.

“Hey, I don’t gotta be nowhere, do anything tonight. Why don’t ya ride with me?” he asks, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Before he even finishes speaking he’s already guiding you along. Your eyes go wide, trying to think of how you could stop him. …Should you stop him? Your legs seem to move on their own, offering little resistance as he leads you away from the station. Your stomach flutters and your breath catches as his fingers rest firm on your shoulder, but you find yourself grimacing as the strong scent of weed assaults you.

“N-no, it’s fine. I-” you stammer, but are cut off.

“S’no problem! Damn fine chick like you, I more’n happy to take ya for a ride.”

You scramble for ideas on how to stop him before the back of your mind asks once again: Should you stop him? He’s offering you a ride… and while a bit insistent, seems to be playing the gentleman… this could work… just… go with him…

You’re scarcely aware of your head nodding, slowly, up and down. This is exactly what you were looking for…

“Name’s G’sly by the way… and this is my ride!”

He stops, motioning his free arm toward the Camaro you saw earlier. It looked pristine and - while you weren’t exactly a professional when it came to cars - it definitely looks like the tires and various other parts have been worked on quite a bit.

As “G’sly” continues to admire his car, you become acutely aware of the hand caressing your shoulder. While a part of you almost folds in on itself, your shoulders pulling inwards in an attempt to escape, a part of you finds such a new sensation quite... exhilirating. What you are also acutely aware of, is that this is probably your last, best chance to get away if you really want to…