Running Away

chapter eight: where better to cause a scene than the golden gate bridge?

Edited. 

E I G H T : WHERE BETTER TO CAUSE A SCENE THAN THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE?

- Taylor -  

It took an excruciating fifty-five minutes of confusing turns, even more confusing directions, and continuous stupidity on Derek's behalf, before I finally pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the Golden Gate Bridge. Devon lumbered out into the thick air first, breaking the glorious silence that had fallen over the car with a ferocious yawn. He paused in his stretching to shoot me a smirk, knowing just how furious I was that he had fallen asleep on the ride here—I'd had to endure Derek's endless chatter for far too long.

My brain felt like it was being stomped on.

"God, Dev, did you really just sleep the whole hour it took to get here?" I whined, taking a jab at his arm with his fist—which missed, because he managed to swerve out of the way at the last second.

"I was resting up," he justified, his tone laced with mocking. "We are walking across the bridge."

He pointed over my shoulder at the magnificent scarlet structure. I followed his finger, my eyes widening as I took in just how large the thing was. It was beautiful, without a doubt, with arched beams placed strategically on either side of the path, reaching upward toward the cloudless sky. But it was quite a distance, and crossing it meant that as soon as we reached one end, we would have to turn around and come back to get my car.

Devon just laughed, clapping me on the back lightly. "You'll be fine, Taylor."

I grinned at him, regretting my surprised reaction. It was obvious that I was going to get an earful of teasing for being intimidated by a mile-and-a-half long bridge. "I know," I drawled easily. "I happen to have the stamina of a marathoner."

"Right," he scoffed. "And sometimes, if it's really dark outside, I grow wings and fly around."

"Shut up," I snapped, setting off ahead of him in a jog.

I was stopped before I reached the mouth of the bridge. Clasping his fingers around my upper arm, Derek spun me around so that our chests were barely an inch apart. I had to tilt my head backward slightly to make direct eye contact, which made him chuckle. "Where do you think you're going?" He said, his voice low and velvety. "You have two other people here with you."

"And?" I challenged, wrenching free from his grasp. "Either keep up, or fall behind. It's pretty simple."

Derek's lips twisted into a smirk that I could only describe as sultry, and I blinked at him. Taking a step back, he gave me a onceover, his gaze traveling down to my toes and up, his swirling emerald irises resting finally on my blue ones. "You know what? I like that idea." He winked when I shot him a confused look, and when Devon strolled up to join him, his smirk widened. "I'll walk behind you. Maybe Devon won't enjoy it—but there's a fantastic view back there."

I rolled my eyes, feeling a boiling hot blush rise to my cheeks. Crossing my arms over my chest, I bit at the corner of my bottom lip to keep from lashing out at Derek, who was doubled over his knees, guffawing. And to his immense credit, Devon didn't so much as giggle—but the expression on his face told me that the moment I turned around, he would burst out laughing. Instead of humoring them by standing by as they teased me, I surged forward, intent on getting to the other side of the bridge before they even caught their breaths.

They didn't follow after me for a few minutes, but I knew when they started, because they immediately began shouting my name. Unfortunately for them, that only made me quicken my pace; it was bad enough that all of the passersby were staring at me, realizing that the two dumbass boys were yelling for me.