Chapter 3

I spent the next few hours trying to erase the morning from my mind, I got my own coffee, ran some errands, and tried to focus on the fact that in a short while, this would all be over. At 12:50 PM, I pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop across from the school, exactly as Kevin had requested.

1:00 PM came and went. Then 1:10 PM. I checked my phone, no messages. The street in front of the school was a chaotic swarm of cars and parents picking up their kids. I felt a small bit of gratitude to Kevin for suggesting this quieter spot.

At 1:25 PM, my phone finally buzzed. It was a text from Jessica.

"We're at the cafe. Where are you??"

I frowned, confused. I was in the parking lot of the coffee shop. I looked across the street at the designated pickup spot, then back at the cafe I was parked in front of. I texted back.

"I'm here. At the 'Daily Grind' coffee shop. In the parking lot."

Her reply was almost instant.

"OMG. Not that one! We're at 'The Roasted Bean'!!! It's like 15 minutes away from there! Did you get lost?"

My blood ran cold. The Roasted Bean was a trendy, expensive cafe in a completely different part of town. There was no reason for them to be there, it wasn't on the way home for any of us. They had done it on purpose. They had deliberately sent me to the wrong place and were now making it my fault.

I didn't bother texting back. I just put the address into my GPS, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly I could feel the leather creaking. The drive was a miserable fifteen minutes of stop-and-go traffic, my frustration mounting with every red light.

I found them sitting at an outdoor table, sipping on what looked like elaborate milkshakes, laughing as if they didn't have a care in the world. They saw my car pull up and slowly, lazily, gathered their things.

They piled into the car, bringing a fresh wave of complaints with them.

"Took you long enough," Tiffany said, sliding into the passenger seat. "We've been waiting forever."

"The exam was so hard," Jessica whined from the back. "And this car is so hot. Can't you turn the AC up higher?"

I didn't say a word. I just drove, my jaw clenched. I navigated us back toward the highway, my driving efficient and precise. I wanted them out of my car. I wanted this to be over.

"You know, for someone doing a good deed, you're not very cheerful," Tiffany observed, examining her nails.

That was the last straw. I couldn't stay silent any longer.

"I was on time, at the location I was given," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "You sent me to the wrong place. A place that is fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of your homes. You did that on purpose."

The car went quiet. I could see Tiffany's reflection in the windshield, her smug expression faltering for just a second.

"So what if we wanted to get a decent drink after the test?" she shot back, her voice defensive. "We deserve a little treat. We're underprivileged, remember? We can't afford to go to places like this all the time. You should be more understanding. It's not our fault you don't know the city very well."

The sheer, unmitigated gall of her words hit me like a physical blow. She was using her "underprivileged" status, the very reason I was helping her, as a weapon to excuse her manipulative, entitled behavior.

I felt a profound, chilling cold spread through me. It wasn't anger anymore, it was a deep, weary disillusionment. The kindness I had offered them had been received like a debt, my generosity treated as an obligation.

I pulled the car over to the curb in a quiet residential neighborhood. I turned off the engine and faced them.

"Get out," I said.

"What?" Jessica squeaked from the back.

"I said get out. My service is concluded. You can find your own way home from here."

Just as they started to protest, my phone rang. The screen showed Jessica's name. I ignored it and looked at the real Jessica in my back seat, whose own phone was silent. Confused, I answered.

"Sarah? Oh my god, Sarah, you have to help me!" a frantic voice, definitely Jessica's, cried from my phone.

I looked in the rearview mirror. The girl in my back seat was staring at her phone, her face pale.

"I'm in your car right now," I said, completely bewildered.

"No, no, I'm at the school! I got left behind! I forgot my ID and I couldn't get back in to get it from my locker after the test ended and Tiffany and everyone left me!" she sobbed.

The pieces clicked into place. The girl in my backseat was not Jessica. They had brought a sixth person, and the real Jessica was stranded.

"You left your friend at the school?" I asked, my voice low and sharp, directed at Tiffany.

Tiffany refused to look at me. "She should have been more responsible."

The phone in my hand was still active, Jessica was still pleading. "They left without me! They took my wallet, it was in Tiffany's bag! Please, you have to come back and get my ID from my house and bring it to me! I can't get home!"

I took a deep breath, the complexity of their deceit making my head spin.

"Jessica," I said into the phone, my voice hard as steel. "You told me this morning that you were all late because you were waiting on someone. Was it because you had to go back for a forgotten item then, too?"

There was a pause. "Yes," she admitted, her voice tiny.

"So this is the second time today you've been irresponsible," I stated, not asking. "And now you're demanding that I fix your mistake. A mistake made worse because your 'friends' abandoned you."

"But it was your fault!" she shrieked, her desperation turning to blame. "If you had just gotten a bigger car, we wouldn't have been so rushed! Tiffany was just trying to hurry you up! You have to come get me!"

"No," I said firmly. "I will not be driving all over town to fix a problem you created. My advice is to call a ride-sharing service or a taxi."

"I can't! I told you, Tiffany has my wallet!" she wailed.

"Then I suggest you call the police for assistance," I said, and before she could reply, I ended the call. The silence in the car was absolute.