Hocking Hills {EXCERPT}

Chapter 1

"Will this be all?" The woman with the kind, oblivious eyes asked as she reached for the quart of oil I placed on the counter.

"Uh, no," I said trying not to look anxious. "I put thirty on four."

She lifted the chained pair of glasses from around her neck and onto her face before pressing buttons on the cash register. "Okay, that will be $34.20."

My heart skipped a beat as I pulled the card from the inside of my front pocket and swiped it through the scanner. I gnawed the inside of my lip as I waited, eyeing the dots that repeatedly flashed across the screen. The tips of my fingers tingled and my palms grew sweaty. Each second felt like minutes.

"You have such a beautiful hair color," she said filling the silence. "Is it natural?"

"Um-hm," I murmured, shifting my stance as I tightened the crossed sleeves of the light jacket that was wrapped around my waist.

"It's been going slow today," she smiled at me saying it more as an apology.

I gave her a weak smile in return as I fidgeted, glancing at the above mirrors to see if there was another employee lurking amongst the shelves inside the compact gas station.

She then turned away to write in an open binder. Her back was still facing the register when I first saw the word denied come across the screen. But before she could even notice I snatched the quart of oil and then quickly walked out of the gas station.

I took off in my Honda and drove out of the lot regretting what I'd done.

"Shit. Stupid," I hissed to myself shoving the card in the front pocket of my backpack while checking the review mirror as I continued flooring the gas pedal.

My thumb tapped franticly against the steering wheel as I looked for the next turn off I could make. Staying on the same road of the gas station wasn't a good idea. It didn't help that I was driving in a rural area because there was nothing but trees along the sides of the road.

And then, of course, the inevitable happened.

I'd only driven about another three miles before I heard a ticking sound come from beneath the hood of the car. I had no other choice but to pull over when the 'check oil' light appeared again on the dashboard.

Once I popped the hood and figured out where the oil was supposed to go I spilled a good amount from pouring it too fast. I just hoped it was enough. The last thing I needed was my engine to die out. I barely had enough money left to pay for a place to stay.

But then things just went from bad to worse. I was in such a hurry to continue on driving I released the ignition too soon it didn't turn over and start.

"Dammit!" I slammed a fist onto the steering wheel, knowing I accidently triggered the theft system. I turned the key in the ignition one more time even though I knew it probably wouldn't start.

And it didn't.

I clicked the key in the position to override it, and then sat there with my head pressed back against the headrest. I was grateful that my foster parent, Mina, helped me get the Honda for nothing—well, almost next to nothing. I did have to put in extra hours at that dusty thrift shop of hers. But within the first few hours of taking this car on the road, it had given me more trouble than it was worth.

In fact, the problems I had with the car were the main reason I was desperate enough to use a lost credit card. If I hadn't had to get a new battery, starter and alternator on my way to Hocking County I wouldn't have thought twice about picking it up in the first place.