(Willa)
Before I could really think this through, I was on my way in a taxi. This seemed like an in-person conversation, and I was honestly a bit upset, more than a bit, but I couldn’t exactly place it.
The longer we drove, the more confused and angry I felt. I didn’t understand why he thought he had to do that. I didn’t want him to see me as someone he had to f.ucking save.
“We’re here,” the driver said.
I paid the fee and almost felt sick. It would probably be half my tips for today, if not more. The drive was over thirty minutes, and we barely hit traffic.
“Thanks,” I muttered and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of one of those large buildings. The afternoon sun glinted off the upper floor’s windows. I felt wildly out of place in my black shirt and dark jeans.
I made it this
