You Don't Know Me: A Stand-Alone New Adult Romance by Faleena Hopkins

racing the blood faster in my veins, I grab my must-haves and run out to throw them in the suitcase, too.
    I want to stop listening when people say these words: You shouldn’t… You can’t… You’re too… What makes them think they have the right to impose their rules or inhibitions on me?
    We have one life.
    We get to do what we want.
    As long as we don’t purposefully hurt people… we should follow our hearts and dreams and search for joy wherever we can find it.
    I want to laugh hard. I want to cry hard. I want to dance!
    New York… here I come.

Chapter Twenty-One

Rue
    S earching the outside bleakness of John F. Kennedy International Airport, Jenna asks, “How do we get a taxi?”
    “I think we go that way.” I point to the right where there’s a long line of people and a shorter line of cabs. Some have no markings, just black sedans waiting for someone who wants to ride in them, and not many do. I ask a woman who’s puffing on a cigarette she’s waited five and a half torturous hours to inhale, “Excuse me, what are those? Are those limos?”
    At first she looks at me like she thinks I was going to tell her to put it out. Relief sags her eyelids, and she jerks her chin toward the cars as smoke wafts around the crown of her head. “Those are what they call Car Service, for Brooklyn. Yellow cabs wanna go all the way to Manhattan ‘cause it’s a bigger ticket.”
    “Ah. Thank you.” I turn back to Jenna who’s rubbing her arms like I am to generate warmth. We’re both wearing baggy boyfriend jeans and long, loose fitting tank tops over tight ones, wishing we’d brought jackets. Her flip-flop covered feet are slapping the pavement like a horse getting ready to buck, and our overnight bags–hers in pink leopard print and mine in dark purple–are waiting for a place to go. I wish I could help them.
    “I was thinking we just grab one of those, but looks like we have to do the line. But we’re excited, right?”
    “Jeez, it’s cold here!” Jenna says, frowning hard, and ignoring my attempt at cheer.
    “Yeah, but I’m so glad we’re finally off that plane.”
    “I told you to get First Class tickets.”
    “I know! I should have listened. I’m not used to being able to do that.” She reaches over and rubs my back, letting me know she gets it. “If you’re so wise, why didn’t you tell me to bring a jacket?”
    “Ha. Ha,” she mutters, dryly.
    “Okay. So I didn’t plan ahead, but this is gonna be great! You know what? I’ve got an idea. Come on. Follow me.” Without question, she grabs both rolling bags as I pull out my wallet and race to the front of the line, straight up to the dispatcher. “Hi, we need a cab. Can you get us one with a heater?” Hiding it from sight of the line behind us, I hand him a hundred dollar bill, biting my lip at my extravagance. He looks at me, then at the bill. “Please!” I beg, and hand him another one, with a weird I’ve-never-done-this-before smile. As one who’s been around, he stares at me from under thick eyebrows, and cuts his eyes over to Jenna without moving his head. She smiles big, a move that makes the corners of his mouth turn up. It appears she has more of an effect on him than I do, so I give her a signal, a look to keep it up. We’re going to freeze out here if this guy doesn’t warm up to Jenna’s charms. She bends one knee so that her hip juts seductively out. “Hi! We forgot jackets. But we’re not complete morons. We’re just not too bright.”
    He mutters on a laugh, “Alright,” and unexpectedly hands one of the hundreds back to me, tucking the other in his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’ll keep this one.” He turns to signal the cabbie at the front of the line that there’s an exception, to not take the next person in line, a woman around forty or so, wearing a warm coat, obviously glad she’s next. The cabbie nods and motions to the traveller she’s out of luck as I grab my suitcase from Jenna and we run up with