Dumb Luck

7

✧𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢✧

We're reaching hour four and a half now. My parents are asleep by now, so there's no use in calling them. Ethan's trying to hide his frustration with me, but I see it every time he refuses to glance in my direction.

It's not like I can even blame him. He told me to call them so many times, and I wouldn't. I didn't want to hear that long, empty beep. But because I didn't call them, I wasted time we could've used to get out of here. And now he's muttering about cops being our last option.

He's not happy with me, so I stay seated and just wait. Not for anything in particular though. There's nothing to wait for because of me.

"Fuck, okay." Ethan breathes to himself, dragging his hands through his hair. When he drops his hands, his hair is a bit of a mess. Almost a little like what happens when you go down a slide and the electricity runs through your body and makes your hair stick up.

I can't help my giggle.

He looks a little like he wants to kill me when he slowly turns his gaze over to me. "What?" He clearly fights a losing battle not to scowl at me. "What's funny right now, Mallory?" He questions.

I lift my hand to cover my smile. "You look like you're about to be struck by lightning." I offer, unable to hide the giggles in my voice.

Ethan frowns. He reaches up to drag his hands through his hair again, smoothing it over this time. "Better?" He asks. I nod even though there's a spot on his forehead that looks a little like it's a cowlick. That pops right back up after he tries to smooth it over.

He turns away from me to continue his pacing and muttering. My smile starts to fade as I look back down at my knees pulled to my chest. Things become less funny pretty quickly. Especially when that shuffling of him spinning periodically while he marches starts to sound again.

"Who taught you to march?"

Ethan pauses again. This time, his gaze looks less murderous as it slides to me. "What?" He frowns.

I nod his way. "Who taught you to march while you think?" I clarify.

He thinks about the question before shrugging. "I don't know. No one, I guess. I've kinda just always done it." He answers a little cluelessly, like he's never even noticed himself pacing back and forth while he thinks.

"It's very annoying." I tell him with a short nod.

For the first time since we got here, his expression shifts to something that looks like anger. Even when I've thrown an insult his way or have been generally rude, he's smiled and laughed and dismissed me. Or he's simply ignored me and done his own thing. His way of avoiding conflict, I guess.

Really, he's been the only one actually trying to get us out of here. Or at least trying to keep the peace. Weirdly enough, he's been the only sane one. Which is funny because he very clearly hates this place.

"You know what's very annoying, Mallory?" He asks. "The fact that I'm stuck in here with someone who's done nothing to help me get out." He snaps. "At least I'm trying to get us out of here."

I don't even know what to say to that. It's true anyway. He's the only one pacing around and thinking. I couldn't even do the simplest task of calling my parents.