Please review! I would like to know how I'm doing! :D
Dusk fell upon us. I had searched all through the woods, but yet, I couldn't find my father. Our camp site was still there, but my father wasn't. I had called out his name so much in the past few hours, that I had gone hoarse. I didn't spend all that time screaming. I spent half of it searching, then the other half calling out to him. But I couldn't find him.
When I went back to Hotel Transylvania, I knew it was well past 9 p.m. and I had been gone for too long. I saw Jonah, writing something down on a piece of paper. I hurried back to my suite and grabbed my cell phone. Why didn't I think of this before!? I thought to myself. I speed-dialed my dad's number and put the phone to my ear. No one answered. I tried again. Still, nothing. I looked at my phone, and saw that I had no service. I was at the brink of throwing stuff around. Instead, I screamed, threw a pillow across the room, put it back on the bed very quickly, and hurried down to the lobby. Jonah was still there, this time with his back against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. When his eyes met mine, he dashed towards me.
"Hey," he said nonchalantly. "Any luck?"
I shook my head. "I'm freaking out. This has never happened before. We've been through these woods a dozen times and it feels like I don't even know this place." I shook my head again, "Maybe he's back home. Or maybe he's not."
"Would you like me to give you a ride to your house to see if he's there?"
My eyes dart to his and I squint. "You'd do that?"
"Sure, why not? There's nothing else to do at 11:35 p.m. on a Saturday night."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, God. Thank you, Jonah."
He nods, digs into the pocket of his black leather jacket and pulls out a wad of keys, then wiggles them in the air. "You wanna go now or later?"
"Now, if that's okay."
"Alright, get whatever you need, because the ride back to town will be at least two hours."
I tell him to give me a second while I get some of my things from my hotel room and he happily goes. I jog up to my suite and grab my gun, leaving my flashlight beside my bed. I tuck the gun in my now clean boot and get going. I hop in Jonah's two-seater pick-up truck, that's completely, shiny and black as his hair. The car looks new. But it isn't. The inside of the car smells like marijuana, pizza and potato chips.
"Sorry about the smell," he says, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "There's nothing else to do sometimes, so I just chill in Everett."
"Everett?" I ask.
Jonah pats the dashboard. "Everett's the name of my truck."
"Ah, nice."
He starts the car, and puts the AC on high. Even though it's in the middle of fall. I had goosebumps all through the ride, until Jonah noticed and turned it down a notch. He apologized, said that he likes the cold. I shrug it off, say it's okay, and see the track jam in the highway. I sigh, not knowing what to say. I don't bother to start a conversation. I mean, why bother making a friend if I will never see him again right after I find Dad? He lives in Hotel Transylvania with his uncle Drake, and I live two hours away. Plus, he's still a stranger. A stranger who fixed up my arm. I pushed the seat back, got comfortable and took a nap.
Until Jonah woke me up. He shook me, and I jumped in my sleep. He had parked in front of McDonald's, and there was food on the dashboard, by my feet and on his lap. I looked at him, giving him a questioning look.
"You bought food?" I asked, reaching for a milkshake.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered a number 3, a dulce de leche shake, two Cokes and something else for me." Jonah checked his watch, said, "Well, let's dig in!" and we started eating. I slurped on my milkshake too fast, and I got a brain freeze. Jonah laughed, and we got back to eating. I checked the time on my cell phone. It was 2:13 a.m. I ate faster, and put my trash in the big McDonald's bag. Afterwards, I told him where I lived, and we got to my house in less than half an hour. I hurried out, found the key that Dad always puts under the front door mat, and rushed inside of my house. I called out to my dad, checked every room. Nothing was touched. Nothing. Until I went into his bedroom one more time and saw something unrecognizable on his dresser top. A ring. It wasn't a ring I have seen before. It looks old. Really old. It looked like one of those class rings you get, but the gold was scratched, and the jewel was as dark as Jonah's hair. Even he noticed the ring, and eyed it closely. I grabbed it, and examined the odd ring.
"You look like you've seen it before," I thought out loud.
"Me?" he asked, shaking his head. "Nah. No. I've never seen that ring in my life."
I went to my bedroom, grabbed a necklace, slipped the ring through the chain and put it around my neck. Jonah examined my room, smirked and shook his head. I opened my mouth to say something, but took it back. I looked around my bedroom and packed some more clothes. Anything I need. Once I was done packing, Jonah looked at me with a questioning look.
"Just in case I have to stay at Hotel Transylvania for a few more days," I said. "Oh, and - -" I grabbed a wad of cash and stuffed it in my backpack. " - - cash. For the suite."
"You won't need to pay," Jonah adds. "My uncle said you can stay as long as you need."
"W-what? Are you serious?"
"He said you can stay there to look for your father. No charge."
I feel the urge to hug him, to thank him, but I hold myself back. I can't just hug him! For Pete's sake. I barely know him! I smile instead, and say, "Thank you," then make my way downstairs. Nothing was touched, Dad was never here. But that ring . . . I've never seen it before. It's uncanny, for someone to break into my house, leave a ring in my dad's room, and leave without taking anything. Maybe, just maybe, Dad was here. He would've let me know, would've left me a note or some sort of sign to let me know he's been home. But I didn't see his car in the driveway. I'm thinking about calling the police, but I get second thoughts. Maybe he's looking for me, trying to call me, but since he has no service in the woods, I can't receive the calls. And vise versa, I think to myself.
We spend an hour at my house, looking through things, trying to find a sign that Dad's been here. But, like all the other times, I found nothing. Then, Jonah checked his watch, and freaked out. He grabbed me by my arm, said, "Let's go. Now," and trotted to his pickup truck. He turned on the car and I shoved the house key in my pocket as I closed the door behind me. I got in, and without even closing the door, Jonah started backing up. It startled me, and I shut the door quickly.
"Geez, Jonah! What the hell!?" I exclaim. He doesn't answer. He just drives and doesn't stop unless it's a red light or anything like that. On the highway, he speeds up, and I clutch at my seat belt. "J-Jonah. Please, slow down." It's like he heard me wrong, because he did the complete opposite. He sped up. I unwillingly grabbed Jonah's wrist, hard, and looked at him. "Slow down, Jonah." He wouldn't look at me. "Jonah! There's no rush! We have two hours until we reach Hotel Transylvania. It's okay!"
"NO IT'S NOT!" he exclaims, almost screaming. It catches me by surprise and I let go of him quickly. "It's not okay!"
I try to collect my thoughts, and when I do, I say, "W-why not? It's not like anyone is going to wait for us, right?"
He clenches his jaw, I can see it when the light posts shine on his face when we drive by them. "I can't," he mutters.
"Can't what?"
"I can't tell you."
"About what? About why you're acting like you're in a race from Fast and the Furious? Just slow down! We're gonna get pulled over!" As if on cue, I see blue and red lights flashing behind us. I turn around, to look at the police car, then sit forward, giving Jonah an I-told-you-so look. "See? I told you."
Jonah bites his lips, clutches the steering wheel and hesitantly parks to the side of the road. He taps the steering wheel, shutting his eyes tight, as if thinking about something. Then, the cop taps on the driver's window, and Jonah rolls it down. "Problem, officer?" Jonah says.
"You were going at 135 miles per hour," the officer said. "May I see your license?"
As Jonah is reaching for his wallet, he stops, blinks a few times, looks at me, then turns in his seat to look at the officer. "You won't need to see my license. You'll just go back to your car, have some donuts and coffee, and leave me be."
The officer doesn't blink until a few seconds later, looks at Jonah blankly, and nods his head. "Have a night night, you two," he says and heads back to his car. He gets in, and drives away. My mouth gapes open when Jonah looks at me.
"What . . . was that?" I asked. "Did you just - -" before I can say anything else, he starts driving again. And speeds up. "JONAH, SLOW DOWN, DAMMIT!"
He grabs my neck uncomfortably, then my vision goes black.
Please review! I would like to know how I'm doing! :D