As I watch the back of my friend disappear into her house, the familiar claw of panic at being alone grips at my chest. My heart is being squeezed into a syrup-like liquid, and my throat is being strangled by an invisible hand.
Struggling to get my body to listen to me and put the car in reverse, I hear the familiar “chirp” from my phone that indicates I have a new message awaiting my inquisitive eyes.
Prying my hand off the steering wheel, I sneak a quick, but illegal glance at my phone as I’m racing back home. It’s a text from my friend!
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