Running Away

Emma leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she gently shook Phoebe, who was deep in slumber on the bed. “Phoebe, wake up,” she urged, her tone laced with urgency.

The sound of her name stirred Phoebe, who groaned and turned her head away from the pillow, her voice thick with sleep. “Who is it?” she mumbled, squinting as her eyes fluttered open to find Emma standing there. “Emma?” she finally recognized, her mind still foggy.

“Yes, it’s me,” Emma replied, taking Phoebe’s hand and helping her sit up.

“Oh my goodness, where were you last night? I looked everywhere for you! I even called.” Phoebe’s voice was a blend of relief and frustration. “Wait, did you end up meeting Scott?” she added.

Emma rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips. “How on earth do you expect me to meet Scott when I’ve never even seen him? You’re the one supposed to take me to him.” 

Phoebe, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, replied, “I didn’t see you, so I thought you’d left. I ended up having a few more drinks with Jones, and he drove me home.” She blinked a few times, trying to focus on Emma’s face. “Where did you go last night?” She looked at the clock on the bedside table. “What time is it?” She saw the clock read 6:45, then turned back to Emma. “It’s way too early for you to be waking me up on a Saturday,” she complained, rubbing her eyes.

Emma, now seated on her own bed, sighed deeply. Phoebe couldn’t help but feel a twinge of suspicion at the look on her friend’s face.

"Oh my God, Emma. I know that look on your face. What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Emma took a deep breath, trying to organize her racing thoughts. "They’re after me. I think I’m going to end up in jail," she confessed, her voice trembling with panic.

Phoebe’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Jail? Did you, like, murder someone at the party last night?"

Emma quickly shook her head, frustration evident as she ran her fingers through her hair. "No—no. It’s even worse than that," she admitted, glancing at Phoebe, who was now looking at her with a mix of concern and skepticism. "I stole something, and I have this awful feeling that he’s going to come after me and ruin me,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

Phoebe’s expression shifted to shock as she processed the revelation. "Stole? Who did you even meet last night?"

Emma hesitated, her throat tightening as she recalled the encounter. "I bumped into a guy, we had a few drinks, and then..." she trailed off.

"And then what?" Phoebe urged, impatience growing. When Emma finally swallowed hard, Phoebe’s eyes lit up with realization. "You slept with him, didn’t you?" she exclaimed, and Emma’s silence confirmed it. "Wow, who would have thought the Virgin Mary would lose her virginity to a complete stranger?" 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Come on, Phoebe. I never thought it would happen like this."

"Of course you did. I know you too well; when you set your sights on something, you always follow through. Now, spill it—who did you swipe from?" Phoebe swung her legs off the bed and strolled over to the cabinet, retrieving a fresh pack of cigarettes. She extracted one, placed it between her lips, and flicked her lighter to ignite it. "Care for one?" she exhaled a cloud of smoke, offering it to Emma, who promptly declined with a shake of her head. Phoebe pulled a chair closer and settled in front of her friend. "So, what’s going on?"

Emma took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "Honestly, he didn’t seem rich when I met him last night. He was dressed so casually."

Phoebe wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Ugh! I know guys like that. They act all poor to keep girls away." She took another drag, letting the smoke escape her lips. "But is he cute?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Phoebe, that’s not the issue here."

"Oh, but it totally is," Phoebe insisted. "Listen, Em, if you’re worried about jail time, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to steal. What did you take that’s got you so anxious? If he’s really wealthy, I doubt he’ll even notice anything missing."

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, exhaling slowly. “He will definitely notice. I didn’t get a chance to count it all, but there was a ton of cash. He just stuffed it into his wallet, and I couldn’t help my—”

“Enough! You’re rambling. Just show me the money.” Complying, Emma rummaged through her bag and pulled out the neatly bundled cash, handing it over to Phoebe, who gasped in surprise as she took it. “Wow, my friend, you’re in serious trouble,” she said, scrutinizing the bills.

Emma, feeling the weight of her actions, reached back into her bag and revealed a car key. “I also took his car.”

Phoebe’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief, her voice rising in pitch. “What? Are you out of your mind?” Then, unable to contain herself, she burst into laughter. “You are so going to jail!”

Emma shushed her, glancing around nervously. “You’re being too loud! And can you stop saying that? It’s freaking me out.”

Phoebe smirked, flicking the remnants of her cigarette into the ashtray. “You should be scared. You should be so scared that you might just lose control.” She paused, looking at Emma. “But seriously, why would you do this? You love money, sure, but you’ve never been the type to steal.”

“Last night, just before I stepped out of the dorm, I took a moment to reflect on everything. I felt a rush of excitement when you mentioned introducing me to Scott, thinking that maybe all my problems would finally find a resolution. But then reality hit me hard; by tomorrow, we’ll be expected to clear out of here, and the thought of returning to my mother’s cramped house is unbearable. You know how tiny it is, and with my current bank balance, even a modest apartment is out of reach. I thought you’d understand my predicament better than anyone else.”

Phoebe nodded slowly, her expression serious. “I get it, but this feels drastic. What’s your plan for the car? Are you thinking of selling it?”

Without hesitation, Emma replied, “Yes, I am. That car is worth a fortune, and the money from it could sustain me for a year." She stood up and walked over to the window, inviting Phoebe to join her.

As she leaned out to take a look, Emma pointed at the vehicle. “Wow, that really is worth millions, Em,” she said, glancing back at her with concern. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“I’ve already made my decision.”

“What if he comes after you?”

“You mentioned wanting to leave Hidden Towel after graduation to spend some time with your aunt, right?” When Phoebe nodded, Emma suggested, “What if I come with you? I could settle in there for a bit, away from New York City, and then return after a few months.”

Phoebe took a deep breath and crossed her arms. "I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Mom wants to stay and support Aunt Tiffy as she mourns Brian. Honestly, I might as well just move there and start fresh with my family."

Emma, however, was quick to interject. "I’ll go with you. It doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to return; I could use a new beginning too."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, concern etched on her face. "But what about your family? Are you really just going to leave them behind?" Emma fell silent, and Phoebe pressed on, "You can’t just abandon them, Em. I can’t let you do that."

"They managed without me for four years; four more won’t hurt. Plus, I’ll send money to Mom to help out. You’re the only one I trust, Phoebe. Please, let me come with you." 

Phoebe struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions and decisions unfolding before her. She took a moment to collect herself and returned to her bed, glancing at Emma, who remained by the window, lost in thought. "I’ll talk to Jones when the sun comes up. This car should be easy to sell. It looks fancy and expensive. Nobody will want to pass it by, and once I leave here, you should start packing. We’ll be out of here by Sunday."

***

Jones handed Phoebe a bag. “This is everything the car went for. It was pretty easy to sell,” he said, but his mind raced with questions. “Why do you need this money so urgently? You seem like you’re in a rush. Are you heading somewhere?”

Phoebe, checking out the money, raised her head and met his gaze and simply replied, “Yes, Jones. I am.” She quickly spun a story about how Emma had acquired the car after a night with a wealthy gigolo, a story that made Jones chuckle nervously as he scratched his head. 

“You didn’t really give me any details so I was doubting if it was a stolen car but it hasn’t been listed which is weird if it was stolen because of how expensive it is,” he pointed out.

“It’s an emergency,” she insisted, tone firm yet soft. “Well, I’ll be back next month. You can wait for me, right?” She leaned in, pressed her lips against his, and whispered, “Thank you for this. I love you,” before planting another kiss and turning to leave. In that moment, Phoebe hesitated, torn between telling him this would be their final goodbye and the overwhelming love she felt for him. She had always loved Jones, but now, with her best friend needing her more than ever, she had to make a choice. Despite the pain of leaving, she knew she had to support Emma on this trip, even if it meant stepping away from the one person who meant the world to her.

As she opened the door to the dorm, she caught sight of Emma packing and greeted her cheerfully. “Hello there,” she said, closing the door behind her.

"How did it go?" Emma’s curiosity was piqued as she noticed the bag Phoebe was carrying. "I'm going to assume that was a success."

Phoebe smiled, clearly pleased with the outcome. "Jones is the real deal. Luckily, your one night man hasn’t listed the car stolen and I wonder why," she replied, stepping closer to Emma. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Emma nodded firmly, her resolve unwavering. "Yes, I’m certain." She took the bag from Phoebe and wrapped her arms around her in a warm hug. "Thank you for helping me with this. I really appreciate it."

Phoebe chuckled lightly. "What are friends for?"

After a brief moment, she glanced at Emma before turning her attention to the remaining items that needed packing. The thought of leaving Hidden Towel tugged at her heart; she would miss every corner of the place.

By the time the clock struck 10 p.m., they had everything ready, having shared a bed due to the cramped space. The next morning, the shrill sound of the alarm jolted them awake. "I guess it’s time," Phoebe said, nudging Emma out of bed. Once they were dressed and prepared for the day, Phoebe went to retrieve her ticket and the one for Emma, which she had struggled to get yesterday morning, and they left Hidden Towel for good.