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I let them take the suitcases from my hands, as well my heavy backpack, groaning in relief when the weight drops from my shoulders. Those bags contain all my worldly possessions, so it makes sense they feel like they’re full of bricks.
“Follow us,” the taller kid says, and starts walking in the opposite direction the GPS kept sending me. I smile as I follow them down the street, taking in the massive buildings in fascination and thinking of all the exciting things I am going to do once I get settled in.
Austin is known for its historical landmarks, and the fact that it’s famous for being the live music capital of the world only makes me want to start exploring immediately. I have all the time in the world to do that once I settle down and finish my college registration. I bet the boys know all the best spots to visit.
“What places would you guys recommend visiting?” I ask, shifting my eyes from the massive buildings to the boy walking beside me, except I am met by an unfamiliar face. I offer an apologetic smile before looking around for the boys carrying my bags, but I only see one unfamiliar face after another.
Oh God! Did I lose them in the crowd?
I palm my forehead with a chuckle. I couldn’t look any more like a country bumpkin if I tried. I must’ve been so lost in my own world that I wandered away from them. They must have taken a turn or something, and I missed it. I rush forward, but find myself faced with a dilemma when I reach an intersection and still can’t see the boys.
Christ, which way did they go?
I bite into my lower lip, straining my brain, but this is a puzzle I am not going to solve any time soon, and the longer I wait, the harder it’ll be to catch up with them.
I turn around to ask for directions, but it seems no one is willing to stop and speak with me as they all seem to have somewhere to be, but when an older lady finally stops, she points not at one of the streets in the intersection, but behind us.
“Congress Avenue is several blocks that way,” she says pointing the way I just came. “You must’ve missed it.”
No, that can’t be right.
The boys . . . They said . . .
A wave of exhaustion settles in as I try to make sense of what’s happening. Did the older lady perhaps get it wrong? That has got to be it because the boys seemed confident this was the right direction.
There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here, and I refuse to entertain any negative thoughts that try to creep in.
This . . . all of this is just a misunderstanding.
Slow deep breaths . . .
I sold everything I own and used all my savings and my small inheritance from my grandmother to come here, and now . . .
No!
I shake my head and run my trembling fingers through my hair as the possibility that the boys might’ve robbed me creeps in.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat as the scary thought registers, but I refuse to let it stay.
No way, I think with a panicked chuckle. There is no way I was gullible enough to have gotten myself in trouble only a few hours into coming to the city.
“There is just no way!” I whisper, turning on my heels and running back to the spot where I first met the boys. I’ll just find their friends, who can certainly help me get hold of my helpers, and everything will be fine.
Except nothing is fine.
Neither the boys nor their friends are in the spot I found them earlier, and it fully settles in that I let myself get robbed. Hell, I literally handed them my bags with everything from my clothes to my college forms, cash, ID, and credit card inside.
“Oh God,” I whisper, the tremble in my knees threatening to send me to the ground, but I force myself to stay up.
Breathe, Sky!
Christ, it’s much harder telling myself to breathe when my lungs feel like they’re collapsing. I should have followed my grandmother’s advice to never trust anyone I don’t know in the city, but those boys . . . They were so nice and kind.
They seemed harmless.
With a shaky sigh, I pull my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and look up the closest police department. As with my GPS app, the data connection doesn’t work, and I have to into the nearest café and connect to the free internet. The closest police station doesn’t seem to be far from my current location. Of course, I still manage to lose my way several times before finding it. I am greeted by a bored-looking man in his mid to late forties, who looks as interested in my story as one would be in watching paint dry.
“So, let me get this straight,” he says with a barely suppressed yawn. “You arrive in the city and blindly trust a bunch of strangers to carry all of your bags and then act surprised when they run away with them?”
