And we hope

To be clear, I get not picking us up out of fear. I do. Even sitting here, his hand on my thigh, wondering just where his hand needs to go for me to jump from a moving car, leaving my stuff behind in his back seat, I get it.

You'll say I shouldn't have got into this car. That just looking at him it's obvious that there's something wrong. That he looks sketchy.

But, while it can be amusing, at first, to watch empty cars drive by with the driver staring at the other side of the road as if there was a fourteen car pile-up with bodies scattered through wind shields and under tires, or full cars with the driver looking at us giving their best impression of a sad face smiley while shrugging, the amusement goes away. The hot sun. Or the rain. Or the coming darkness. They make sure of it. And then we get into the first car that stops for us.