Saving Him
My skin was sticking to the plastic of the third-row bus seat I was currently sprawled across. The tendrils of matted hair that had fallen out of the ponytail mixed with sweat and itched my neck. The trees and buildings passed by quickly as I stared out the window, nose pressed against glass. Heart thumping, I clutched the duffel bag close to my body and willed the bus to move faster; faster, before I could change my mind.