[chapter nineteen]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
A/N: I had to repeat Jimmie's POV. Apologies for throwing off the scheme.
**
~Jimmie's POV~
Where do I go? Where do I start?
As I'm flying through town to my house to grab some essentials, I am holding the steering wheel in one hand and trying to dial my damn cell phone with the other.
"Silver Spoon, may I help you?"
Please god, I hope so.
"Is this Alice? This is Jimmie Johnson calling."
"Hi Jimmie."
She doesn't sound happy. Uh-oh.
"Listen, I know … I know Shea doesn't work there anymore, but I really need to get in touch with her. Do you have her contact information?"
"I can't give that information out."
"Alice, please. It's an emergency. I have to see her. My life depends on it."
"I don't know … "
"Alice. Please. I'm begging you with every part of me. I need to see Shea. Please, please help me."
**
I think I'm pissing off the guy in the plane seat beside me.
I can't stop fidgeting. Moving. Squirming.
I mean, the autograph I signed helped, but he still looks sorta upset with me.
I would too, really.
But I can't stop moving.
**
"Taxi!"
Shit. I'm never gonna get a cab in this damn city.
If I thought I could make it, I would run all the way there.
**
"Can you tell me where Carmen Hall is?"
The girl looks at me for a long moment, her jaw hanging open. "Omigod! You're, like, Jimmie Johnson!"
Like, omigod, yeah. But right now, even if you were the Queen of England, I couldn't care less about meeting you.
I know Jeff would kick my ass for that thought, but it's true.
I just want to find Shea.
I have to find Shea.
**
Room 313. This is it.
But now that I'm here, I have absolutely no idea what to say.
I don't even know where to begin.
I don't even know if she's here.
What if she's not here?
I'll just camp out here until she comes home.
To Mooresville.
That home.
Maybe not today, or next week, but someday.
Here I go. I'm knocking on her door.
And crossing my fingers for good
luck.