“Can you give me a ride or not?” I put my cup into the empty sink and cross my arms over my stomach. I’m tired of these guys thinking they’re running the show. I haven’t had anyone but my mother to answer to, and that doesn’t even really count. My mom is so out of it half the time she can’t remember if I’ve even been home.
Milo looks over at Ollie then begins to explain, “We need to wait for Dante, it’s his car.” He’s not looking at me, in fact it’s like he’s avoiding me. I narrow my eyes, I’m about twenty seconds from demanding they drive me home, or just walking to get the hell away from them. It would take me an hour or two, but it’s not like I haven’t walked that far before.
I look around and I see this studio for what it really is. It’s their hangout, an older version of a fort or clubhouse. All the expensive toys, like the big screen TV and gaming systems, are just entertainment. I’ve been kidding myself, I don’t belong here. Never have, never will.
Where the hell do Milo and Ollie even live and why is Dante the only one with a car? I get that they are always together but give me a break. That’s a bit extreme.
Without another word I make my way over to the stairs. I’m so done with letting everyone else decide how I’m going to live my life, for as long as I can remember I’ve been taking care of my mom. She left me without as much as a goodbye. I’m not going to give these guys the chance to do the same.
Neither of them stop me as I head outside and down the long lane that doubles as Dante’s driveway. The lengthy walk home is exactly what I need to finally make some decisions about my life. I’ve been driven here a few times now. I’m confident I can find my way back to school and from there it’s an easy walk back to Turtle Creek. I should never have stayed there last night anyway, what if my mom came home and I wasn’t there?
I shake my head and clench my teeth—she left me. I’m not going to let myself fall back into the same role of easy acceptance. Once I make it to the road I keep on the gravel shoulder, my pace is a little rushed, so bits of dirt and pebbles fly with each step.
Each mailbox I pass makes the anger in my stomach rise. I shouldn’t have to walk home. What a fucked up situation I’ve gotten myself into. I’m mad at myself for letting them convince me I could be someone important to them, no, they don’t even know me. They just want what they think I can give them. Well fuck them. I’m not anyone’s battery. They think they can hide me away like I’m some basement troll? That they can go on doing whatever they please while I wait around for them to think I’m good enough?
I force down the scream that wants to claw its way up my throat. My eyes water, but it’s definitely not tears pooled on my lower lashes.
The purr of Dante’s engine revving up the street warns me they’re coming far before I even see his car. Apparently they finally noticed I’d left. It probably took Milo and Ollie five minutes to realize I wasn’t just sitting in the car waiting on them like a good little pet, and another five to round up Dante.
Luckily, I’m already to the neighborhood surrounding the school so it won’t be any trouble to detour down a side street. I jog up the sidewalk to the first house with a car parked out front. I duck down and pretend to tie my shoe, waiting for them to pass. Once they do, I keep heading in the new direction, bypassing the school altogether. I’m being childish, I know I am, but I can’t pretend to care. It actually gives me a slight thrill to think they’re looking for me.
Once I make it to the next block I make a left, hoping I can follow it down and find the street near the diner. I need to hustle. I don’t want them waiting for me like yesterday.
When I enter the camper is empty, just like I’d assumed it would be. The heavy drapes are blocking out