Love On A Dollar

Chapter 2: TheVending Machine

Willow's POV



“You know you can get into legal trouble for doing that?” Nance, my ride or die, hovers over my shoulder, being her Debbie downer self.

“It's a dollar. I doubt they'll really care,” I answer her as I scribble my number with the tag ‘where am I?’ beside it. I then shove it into the vending machine and get my soda in return.

“I doubt anyone will text it.”

“Come on, Nance. There are millions of people out there. You don't think that a few of them would be adventurous enough to text a random number what city they are in?” I poke her dimple, the one that shows even when she's not smiling.

“I mean, maybe. Just don't get your hopes up.” She gives me a stern look, her glass eye hiding behind her light blue bangs. She hates it, but I tell her every time that she's still beautiful. No one can really tell anyway, aside from the slight slant, but anyone can pass that off as a bit of a lazy eye.

“I won't, don't worry. I never do.” As I lead the way to the hair dye aisle, I start to wonder how far my little dollar will travel. There was no way I could go around the country at this moment, so I figured my dollar could. Hopefully, enough people will send me a text that it'll feel like I did. “How about pink?”

“Like hot pink? Or a more subtle light pink?” She asks, holding her chin as she stares at my pointed face, imagining what I'd look like with pink.

“Light pink,” we both say in unison, laughing as we do.

“I'll make you fabulous, darling. Simply fabulous.” Nance flicks her hand, doing her posh accent as she leads the way to the register in a flamboyant strut. She always does my hair, being my free hairdresser.

_________________

Unknown: Cincinnati

Willow: Cincinnati! That's amazing! Can you send me a picture of the city?

It's been about a year now since I placed my dollar in the vending machine — although I am certain not everyone who's had it has texted — and I've gotten quite a few responses. My little George Washington has traveled the country, from the city of angels to the big apple itself. Some would only text me the city name and not send a picture. Others sent me pictures I did not ask for the moment they found out I was a girl.

I've seen a few too many d***s, and a couple of vages this year.

“Where's it at now?” Noah asks me, sitting beside me on his couch as he plays his shooting game.

“Cincinnati.” The excitement in me bubbles over, spreading my lips into a wide smile.

“Be careful what you tell ‘em. There are some psychos out there.” Noah's eyes are permanently fixed to the screen as he rapidly pushes buttons on his controller, yet still I can see the concern. I think it's the dad in him that makes him so overprotective.

“Yes, sir. Dad, sir.”

“You're not funny,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes at me.

“You're right. I'm hilarious.” I laugh as he shakes his head at me, but I see the way the corner of his lips twitch, trying not to smile.

I poke it, gaining an unexpected reaction from him. He immediately pauses his game, grabs my wrist and meets my eyes. There's a deep hunger in them that sends an involuntary heat through my body. I've never really looked at Noah any other way than a friend, and the father to the most adorable baby girl.

“Don't tease me, Willowbee.”

He lets go of my hand, turning his attention right back to his game as if he hadn't just caused my heart to race. I watch him for a second, studying his profile and remembering how attractive he really is. It wasn't until my phone vibrated again that I averted my eyes from his long handsome face.

Cincinnati: This is my favorite spot in the city.

I always save the numbers that text me under the city they are in.

Attached to the text is a picture of the city from a distance. One day I hope to travel there and see exactly this sight, because it is stunning. The sky is a mixture of yellow and deep orange hues as the sun kisses the horizon. You can see a lot of the city with a large body of water before it and trees lining the bank.

“One day, I'm going to travel to these places.” There's something about saying the words out loud that make it feel more concrete.

“I know you will,” Noah half smiles, thinking I am not watching him, but I am.

“Where's Millie? You said she'd be here at 6, and it's 8.” I pout, ready to get my cuddles from the cutests toddler around.

“That's all you're ever here for…my daughter.” He shakes his head as if he disapproves, but I know he loves it.

“Damn straight.” I push his ass with my toes as he gets off the couch.

He turns, arching his thick brow at me in challenge. What you'll learn about me is I don't back down, I get stubborn. With a childish grin, I push on his ass again when he turns to walk, thinking he was safe.

He stops, but doesn't turn, instead he falls back, landing right on top of me without a care.

“Ow!” I yell as he plops on me a little too roughly, but I still laugh at his stupid self.

“Stop kicking the cake, or I'm going to smother you with it.” He wiggles over me, still feeling playful, pressing his back on me further.

I groan as I push at him in hopes he'll get off me sooner. The smile on my face is undeniable, because even though I'm being squished to hell, I am having fun.

“Alright. Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!” I yell as I tap on his shoulder with a laugh.

“Thought so.” He got back up, grabbing his phone from the charger across the room. “Alana texted that her boyfriend is running an errand before they drop her off. But that was an hour ago.”

Noah's brow meets in the center as he presses his lips together in thought. He was worried, rightfully so, unsure of where his daughter was.

“Call her and see what's up.” I shrug, uncertain of what you do at this point.

He nods, placing the phone to his ear but he gets no answer. He calls 3 more times as he paces in front of me, passing his anxiety onto me as I watch him.

“Do you have her boyfriend's number?” There has to be a way to get a hold of Alana to find out where Millie is.

“No, she switches boyfriends almost every month. I hate that she brings them around Mil.” Noah's hands fist, showing the anger that dwells in him when he thinks of his daughter being in an unsafe situation.

“Remind me why you don't have full custody?”

“Because no judge wants to take the baby away from their mother. At the time Alana had her s**t together better than me. I'm looking into a lawyer, because I am over this bullshit.”

“Good, then I'll get to see Millie more.” I try to lighten the mood, but it doesn't work as his brows are still too well acquainted with one another, looking more like one than two. “I am sure she's fine. Don't worry, okay?”

I stand, walking towards him and stepping in his way so he stops his pacing. I take his hand and sit him on the couch, stretching my hand out for him to give me his phone.

“Give. I'll find them.”

“Nancy Drew over here.” He sighs, but hands me the phone, knowing I can deep dive on the boyfriend and find out what we need to know. About 20 minutes later we discover he was arrested, selling drugs from his car.

“He sold drugs with my daughter in the car!” Noah's furious, a side to him I have never witnessed, standing again with his fists so tight his knuckles whiten.

“I'll call police stations and see which one has Millie, or what happened. Okay? I think you're about to get your wish of full custody.”

Stupid comment, Willow.