My Imagine

Chapter 32

Ten minutes of hurried dressing and brushing ensued, and by the time you were jumping in the car that was waiting, you were both quite flushed. The two of you hustle into the back seats and the man from the airport slams on the gas. You peel away from the apartment, but are soon stopped in the middle of dead traffic. The driver throws up his hands in disgust and a chorus of groans come from you and Sawyer.
"Great. First day and we're already late." Sawyer complains, turning to the man. "How long do you think we'll be stuck here?"
No answer comes for a minute or two, just excessive honking of the car and some choice gestures and words being hurtled out the window. You slouch awkwardly in your seat as the vulgar language continues.
When the man seems to run out of people to curse at, he turns around with a furrowed brow and a tight grimace that looked almost set permanently set into his face.
"Uh, sorry about that." He looked almost embarrassed. He scratched his short and shaggy hair. "Name's Barry. Sorry, but it looks like this might take a while. You might wanna call Mick and let him know."
Sawyer digs his phone out of his pocket and dials the number, but nobody answers. He curses and leaves a message. "He wasn't there." he mutters.
Suddenly, inspiration strikes. You whip out your own cell and punch in some digits. "I know someone who can tell him," you explain. The phone rings thrice, then someone picks up.
"Hello?"
"Deedee! It's me, Tigress. Are you with Mick?"
You can hear the worry in her voice. "Yeah, he's right here. Where are you guys? You're supposed to be here in five minutes."
"Yeah, about that. We're stuck in bumper to bumper traffic and it doesn't look like we're getting out of here anytime soon. Can you pass that along?"
"Yeah, of course. Just, do me a favor and get your butts down here ASAP. Okay?"
You laugh into the receiver. "Sure thing. See ya later I guess."
"You'd better hope so."
She sounds serious, but you can tell that she's smiling despite her scolding tone. You hang up and stuff the phone back into your pocket. Sawyer is leaning his head against the window and glaring out at the traffic disaster almost as if in a music video. Your heart flutters in your chest as he continues to stare at the cars, and you decide to disrupt him before he can hear your pounding chest.
You poke him in between his ribs. He jumps and nearly hits his head on the roof of the car. He gives you a deer-in-headlights look. "I hate to tell you," you giggle. "But you can't move them telepathically. Nice try Yoda."
Sawyer rolls his eyes and resumes his gloomy position. The car behind you is getting impatient. They keep on inching forward and honking even though there isn't anywhere to go. You take a deep breath and try to get comfy in the car. It doesn't work, but you still try.
"Hey, I think we're moving!" Sawyer says as the traffic creeps up about two feet, then stops again. The car in the back must have gotten excited, because they hit the gas to high. They connect with your back bumper and push you into the back of the truck that's in front of you. You're shaken around a bit, but you miraculously escape injury. Sawyer however was closer to the door and hit his wrist. Barry's airbag goes off in the front, and at the right time, because the car in back hits the gas again and squashes your vehicle even further. They finally seem to realize after much frantic shouting that something has happened, and a man gets out to check. A couple from the truck in front gets out too. Sawyer moans in pain and cradles his wrist and squeezes his eyes shut. You carefully unbuckle your seatbelt and slide next to him as Barry deals with the angry people outside.
"Hey," you say softly. "Are you okay?"
He shakes his head and cuddles his arm closer to his chest. "It hurts," he whimpers. You reach over with gentle fingers and hold out his hand. His wrist is starting to swell and when you so much as brush up against it, he yelps and grits his teeth. The sounds of distant sirens lifts your spirits as they get closer and closer until someone knocks on the window. You roll it down to see the woman from the truck.
"The police are on their way." she informs you. "That man behind you was driving while drunk, so charges are being pressed." The lady looks over your shoulder at Sawyer. "Is he okay?" she asks. You smile reassuringly.
"Oh yeah, he's fine, just a little scared. He it his hand so we'll have someone look at it later. Thanks for the info."
She nods and walks back to her husband by Barry, who is forcing the drunk man to get back in his car and wait for the police.
Wow, you think to yourself. Well this is a nice way to start the day.
Sawyer rolls his eyes at you. "No kidding."
You give him a strange look. "What did you just say?"
He shrugs. "You were thinking out loud. I was just agreeing with you."
"I was?"
"Yeah, you were. You do it a lot actually."
"And you never thought to inform me of that?"
"I thought you knew already."
You pull his hair and he winces as you yank on the strands.
"Ow ow ow ow ow o-"
"Oh, man up. It can't hurt that bad."
"Well, put it together with a possibly sprained wrist, and yes. It hurts a lot, in case you were wondering."
You try to hold it in, but overly dramatic Sawyer is pretty cute. He has a pouty face but a serious attitude. You start to laugh at him while he protests. Eventually his own remarks fade to laughter too, and you both sit there laughing like idiots.
"We're so stupid," you choke out between chuckles.
Sawyer looks at you. "Is that bad?" He asks, looking a little worried. You smile mischievously.
"Only if you're us."