The sunlight peeking through the blinds that I forgot to shut last night woke me up the next morning. The star-printed wallpaper lining the edges of the walls was the second thing I noticed. Almost being blinded by the sun was the first. I forgot to set an alarm for work this morning because I was too preoccupied with the endeavors of the night. The events of yesterday replayed in my head like a dusty vinyl on an old record player.

  In need of a distraction, I sprang up from my bed, headed to the bathroom, turned on my leaky shower valve, undressed myself and got in. The feeling of the warm water dripping down my naked body calmed me but not long enough because my mind still drifted to Peter. Was I in love with him? Or just the mere idea of him? Because I observed the way he treated other women and as the popular saying goes "how you treat others is a direct reflection of how you feel about yourself." But then again I didn't think much of myself either so we were kind of perfectly in sync in that way. I don't know why maybe I do lov.... I stopped myself.

  I needed to concentrate. I was late for work and I had no ride today as my mom had already left for her job. I cut my shower time in half, put on my hideous work attire, grabbed my bag that always included my essentials to survive the day my journal included; and with one hand on our wooden railing to avoid a misstep, I frantically ran down the stairs and proceeded out our front door. I locked it, placing the key in the most obvious hiding spot, our house plant. It was like inviting robbers to come in but my mom preferred it. She said it was the last place anyone would look.

  Public transportation was not my first option nor my idea. I found it rather unsafe and challenging to navigate. I would have much rather taken an Uber or even ride share. The energy I would expend trudging down our protracted road was ridiculous. The sights didn't remotely make up for my exhaustion because we lived in a shitty neighborhood, my route was never scenic. On my beaten path I was intercepted by the two brothers, Gabriel and Peter, not in the way you'd hope.

  I was just a passer-by when I caught a glimpse of both their vehicles leaving the driveway. Peter's noticeably illegal, tinted windows were up. It muffled the melody playing on his stereo but the blaring roars that came from his speakers were so thunderous the vibrations couldn't be concealed. I saw him but didn't think he cared enough to notice me. He headed the opposite direction while his brother drove his car back inside. It was a shame, they had such a massive house yet their driveway was minuscule. I didn't pay him any mind because I was always too focused on Peter to admire anyone else.

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  Five minutes into my walk, I hear the echoes of a worn out engine trailing behind me. I stepped to the side with the hopes that some idiot wouldn't run me over. I was taken aback as that idiot was Peter. The execution of the approach of his car almost felt like a drive-by in comparison to what I'm used to on a road that emphasizes the speed limit of 20-30 mph. The slow roll down of his window was accompanied by a loud shrieking sound which suggested to me he needed to get that fixed. It didn't match his nonchalant persona he would usually masquerade.

  "Hop in," he said.

  If I didn't have such a carefree spirit, I would have listened when my mom used to tell me, "Never take rides from strangers!" but I couldn't help it, I was too unconventional. My rationality apparently went out the window when he rolled down his. I thought to myself she'll survive, if I ended up on the cover of channel 6 news with the title being, "Here lies a 23 year old enthusiast last seen on 21 Drive Oak Street who trusted too hard and was never loved." If I ever was abducted that's what I would imagine it would say. With the aim of stopping my theatrics, I suppressed my racing thoughts.

  My hand clasped his door handle. I seated myself onto his velvet-covered cushioned seats and closed his door with a gentle force. I have never been in here before. It felt like a rare sighting. Like that one trip you would take as a family to a foreign country that you would never see again because your parents' middle class family budget couldn't afford it, making you just another statistic in a broken system. I lifted my chin which slightly tilted my head back, stopping at a 35 degree angle. His eyes darted from the road to the rearview, continually checking behind him. It almost felt like he was playing tennis with his gaze. I probably should not have wanted him to, reason being because he was driving but I was glad he looked back. I was seated behind him which meant I was in his peripheral anytime he would glance at his mirror. We locked eyes. He appeared completely entrapped in the beauty that was my hazel eyes as he uttered in his thick British accent,

  "You're my neighbor and I don't even know your name."

  The rosiness in my cheeks didn't shy away as he confidently communicated that to me. I nervously responded,

  "It's Tara. Tara Stammel!"

  and from there, I think my curiosity grew further and his fixation first began.