“You may look like him, Cameron, but you arenothinglike him otherwise,” Mom continues, stepping into my space. “Grow up. Grow a pair. You’re pathetic.”
And with that last jab, she turns on her heel and heads toward her bedroom. I don’t move until the door slams shut, but then I’m running from the house.
Grabbing her keys from the hook along the way, I get into her beat-up Toyota and drive. I just drive, no destination in sight.
I need to get far away from here, from her.
I intended to run for about an hour, then head back to the house to change and get ready for work, but it seems I’ll be working in track shorts today.
If I loved her any less, if I had any amount of confidence in my own abilities to survive alone, I would justleave. I’m not a minor anymore; I don’thaveto stay.
But I can’t. I’m terrified of being alone, even if the only other option is her.
So I drive until I feel safe enough to stop, until my brain quiets just a little.
I’m panting, though I haven’t begun running yet. But having the car means I don’t need to head back into town for a while, and I eye the forest next to me.
I can run here, hidden between the trees. Maybe I can find a secluded place to cry in, to let my walls drop.
Sure, I could call Cassie and cry to her. But I hate doing that; I rarely show her this side of myself, even as she knows my home situation. It’s embarrassing; it’s too real once I share it with someone else.
This pain I carry is so severe, so thick that I could drown in it if I linger for too long.
So I run. I park the Toyota on the side of the dirt road and dart between the trees until all I can smell is dirt and pine and peace.
NowI can panic; I can fall apart. A few tears fall down my cheeks as I pump my arms harder, faster; my feet pound into the fallen leaves below me as I blindly head further into the forest.
I’m not even sure where I am; there is so much greenery and abandoned land around Port Orford that I truly could beanywhere. I just know that the road I took here will lead me back into town, toward the auto shop.
Once my lungs burn and my legs feel sore, I pause, leaning against a tree to take in steady, large breaths.
The cloudy sky dims the forest, the wind cutting into my hoodie. I can smell the ocean, so I must be close to the water somehow.
Just a bit longer. I’ll run for a while and then—
“Fancy seeing you here,” a voice calls out, and I freeze, recognizing it immediately.
Slowly, I raise my eyes, spotting Atticus standing a few feet to my left, leaning his shoulder against a tree.
“W-what?” I gasp out, my hands shaking where they rest on my thighs, my back hunched over.
“Are you lost, sweetheart?” he asks, his tone dripping with either condescension or placation. I can’t tell.
“N-no! I was just… I was on a run. Why areyouhere?” I watch him carefully, taking in his black joggers and his tight blue t-shirt. He looks extremely put together for a guy wandering the wilderness.
“Me? This ismyproperty, technically.”
“What?” I croak, my eyes darting around the trees.
Heownsthe forest? Honestly, I wouldn’t doubt it.
“You’re very close to Chastain Castle,” Atticus tells me. “You weren’t aware?”
“No,” I whisper. “I was just running.”
“What are you running from?”
I startle, my back straightening, my breath leaving me in heavy pants.
