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With my eyes covered and that bomber jacket covering the rest of my body, I made my way out the front door. Nothing in tow except my wallet and that fucking notebook. I had one goal in mind for the day. And that shit had nothing to do with school. By the time I was done today, I’d have that entire list filled with ideas on how to get the fuck out of here. How to start a life for myself with mediocre grades and no life skills to speak of.
There had to be a way for me to get out without using resource shelters in the area.
I walked toward school, then kept on walking. I walked past Valley High, down the mile and a half stretch until the main part of our little side of town came into view. I crossed the road, eyeing the railroad tracks off to my right. Fear seized me as images of that night bombarded my mind’s eye. Including the moment where I was sure that damn river would sweep me away.
Rae saved you. And look at what you’re doing to her.
“I’m saving her from me,” I murmured to myself.
I trotted across the road and found my way into a coffee shop. The one next to the grocery store, actually. I walked inside and felt all eyes on me. Some random high school kid with sunglasses on, a navy blue jacket that almost didn’t fit, and a nose brace on his face. But, thankfully, it was still early. Which meant the morning rush was all drive-thru. No one really came inside.
Giving me the privacy I needed.
I ordered my coffee and stood there to wait for it. I was thankful to be there. The last place I wanted to be was at school. I couldn't face Rae. I knew she’d corner me and ask me about last night. About us. About what the fuck happened. I couldn't face her right now. Because I knew if I looked her in the eyes, I wouldn't be able to lie to her.
So my only option was to avoid her at all costs.
“One large black coffee with rosewater and caramel?”
I reached out for it. “Thanks.”
“Can we get you anything else?”
I paused, reliving the memory of Rae in my bed that morning. “Actually, yes. Do you have computers here for the general public to use?”
The barista nodded. “Through the doorway in the corner and immediately to the right.”
“I appreciate it.”
I took large gulps of the coffee as I walked through the small coffee shop. I did as I was told, and found myself in a small room with seven or eight different computers. All of them were as nice as the ones my father had at the house. It was shocking, really. This dinky little coffeehouse with such up-to-date technology.
I wasn’t complaining though.
I sat down in the far corner, thankful that I was tucked away from the world. I opened my notebook and logged in using the log-in information taped across the top of the monitor. After navigating to the web browser, I picked up my pen. I scratched out the two things I’d written last night in my sleepy stupor, then typed in my first search.
What to do after high school with terrible grades.
Much to my surprise, a lot popped up. I filtered through the articles and clicked on a couple of them. I scanned through and jotted down some valuable information. The articles I really wanted to read, I emailed to myself. Good reading material if I couldn't sleep again tonight. I jotted down a few things to research. Community colleges in California with the best rates. Scholarships and shit I could get without proving good grades. Jobs I’d be eligible for as an eighteen-year old with a high school diploma.
Literally, anything that might get me out of this fucking place.
I didn’t want to stay in Riverbend. And eventually, I’d want out of the state altogether. I needed to get the hell away from this shit. The hell away from my father. The hell away from my life. I needed a fresh start. With people that didn’t know me and police departments that didn’t profile me. My search poured me into an overall state search. States that had the best services for runaway children and had the best social programs to help people get back on their feet.
And after emailing myself over thirty links to articles to read later, I sat back and stared at the screen as I finished the coffee that reminded me of Rae. Then a thought hit me. A thought that lingered a little too long. A thought I wanted answers to, even if I didn’t follow through with it. So, I typed my question into the internet search bar just to see what would pop up.
Is it legal for an eighteen-year old to steal from their parents?
A last ditch effort, just in case nothing else panned out whatsoever.
4
Raelynn
I stood at the entrance to my neighborhood, staring up at the sidewalk. As Michael and Allison walked down to me, I held out hope that Clint might show up. That he might come meet me like we’d done those few times before the accident. Michael kept looking at me with that pity-filled stare and Allison rubbed my back. I shrugged her touch off, tired of their antics and their pity and their bullshit.
I was tired of everyone’s fucking bullshit.
Michael sighed. “You know he’s not coming.”
