Chapter 2

I head home on the bus at the end of the day. I fight off car sickness as I try to complete my homework, I never like to have it pile up so I try to get it done before I get home. The bus bumps and jolts for the 20 minute ride back home. Surprisingly, I live the closest to the school. There is only one other person on my bus stop, my neighbor Julie. She is very nice but doesn't talk much. She would be beautiful if she brushed her hair out and wore something other than sweats and a hoodie. Her mom died when she was little. We used to bond over that, our moms being gone, but now it just makes me angry.

The bus stops suddenly and my head hits the seat in front of me.

I look up, not surprised to see the big yellow thing driving off down the block and out of sight. I am in my living room looking through the big window that covers an entire wall. My mind glosses over some things. But they are never important. I just have no recollection of the events that took place, like me getting off the bus. I don't remember getting off the bus in years, but I do it every single day. Sometimes I wonder if I miss something important. Like maybe I finally talked to Julie, or one of the parents waiting for the kindergarten bus asks me a question. I feel like my mind has a certain capacity for things to remember, and getting off the bus just isn't important enough.

I turn my attention away from the window to see my dog phoebe lying on the floor, paws in the air, panting, waiting for me to feed her. I smile and pick up her blue food bowl. I walk over to our cherry wood cabinets in the kitchen. The exact same cherry wood from school, but here it all goes well together, and I don't want to take a sledgehammer and destroy it all. Our walls are a beige white, and the kitchen walls above the counter top are beige bricks. My mom designed the house, had it built from scratch. I can't imagine why she would ever leave it. I love it so much I sometimes never want to leave. I would just have to get rid of my dad.

 

I reach in and grab the red container with her puppy chow and pour it into the bowl. The bowl still says Dexter on the side. Our last dog. He was a big golden retriever, but he got cancer and passed. I wanted another dog and was saving up for one, but then my dad surprised me one morning with little phoebe. One of his apology presents for hitting me. I shake her food bowl a little bit, expecting to hear the tiny clicking of her nails on the floor, but when I turn around she isn't there. I call out her name and wait but there is only silence. All I can hear is the rain, still pouring outside. I walk into the living room to search when I hear the floor creek in one of the bedrooms.

I head down the hall and open one of my brother's doors. Everything is as he left it. His bed still wrinkled, his closet half open. There is even a sock on the floor that no one bothered to pick up. He was the neatest one, Scott. Not neat, but neater than Seth. I look around at all his soccer trophies and pictures. So many memories left behind. I can understand it, though. Leaving this all behind. I intend to do the same, never look back. The only gateway back here being that check once a month to a man who you aren't sure deserves more or nothing at all. I dream about it. My thoughts are cut off when I see the closet door open more. My head snaps towards its direction. I don't see anything move, so I turn back to the hallway and close the door. I almost jump when I see phoebe sitting at the end of the hall, staring at her bowl, still in my hand. I laugh a little and head towards the kitchen. When I look back she is still sitting, watching where I was standing.

"Phoebe!" I call. And she barks, but it's not in reply to me. She starts to growl and sneer.

"Phoebe!" I call louder, and she turns  and walks to me with hungry eyes and a happy tail. As if nothing happened at all.

At 7:00 I get in dad's old car and turn it on. The whole thing comes alive under me. It's a very slow car, and it's not in good shape, but it's usable. My dad uses his nicer car to drive to and from work. He leaves this one for me to drive. This was also my brothers' first car they drove. I still find condoms in between seats and there are scratch marks on the dashboard from the one time my brother tried to bring home a stray cat. Of course, the condoms are from Scott and the cat scratches are Seth's doing. Seth isn't sexually attracted to anyone. Just emotionally. He was just born that way. At first, we thought he was gay but he just doesn't view anyone as someone he wants to put himself inside of. Scott, on the other hand, is a lady's man. He charms all the girls, with what still remains a mystery.

I reach towards the radio and turn it on to one of the few stations we get. And one of the few stations I like. It's a coffee house type station. Sometimes it plays classical piano type stuff, and then other times it plays really meaningful singer-songwriter type songs. I pull out of the driveway to the beat of a breakup song and head in the direction of the movie theater. Everything in this town is relatively close, about a ten-minute drive between anything important. Quinn's house is on the other side of town, so we meet up somewhere in the middle. Usually, then I park this car overnight and we stay in her nicer car. 

I turn onto the "highway" which is really what we call the only road with double lanes on each side and where the speed limit reaches a whopping 50 miles per hour. There are one or two cars on the long road. They go way above the speed limit and pass me. I watch as they slowly disappear from my sight. I would go much faster but the poor car can only reach 60. I push it a little and hear the roaring struggle of the engine. As I relieve the pressure on the gas I hear a light buzz. look down at my phone in the cup holder. The screen lights up and I see Quinn's face pop onto it. I press a button on the steering wheel. The music pauses and the car voice says "one new text" and I wait for the little beep, telling me I can talk.

"Read" I reply.

"9/13 Text message from Quinn: Did you sneak into my house again?" The beep sounds, ending the message. I look down at my phone and back on the road. My car doesn't let me answer the texts. I choose to wait until I'm off the highway to answer and I turn the music back on. One of my favorite songs come on and I start singing. I'm horrible at it so I only do it in the car. I thrash my head back and forth to the beat. In the middle of the second chorus, the text comes into my mind again. I didn't understand it. Why would she text me that if she was home alone? She must have heard squirrels outside or Ari sneaking in. Although something about it didn't sit well with me.

I grab my phone and text quickly with one hand while keeping my eyes on the road. "No, I'm headed to the mobile theater right bow" I type. I couldn't go back and edit because I felt an urgency to reach her. I send it and wait. My song has ended and a new one comes on but it is too sad so I shut it off and sit in silence. The sound of the engine roars under me. My thigh finally buzzes and my hand shoots up at lightning speed to answer it.

"No, you're not. I hear you. Nice try though Evie." As soon as my eyes finish scanning it I turn the steering wheel so suddenly the phone flies from my hand and in between the seats. I pull my car into the nearest gas station and put it in park. It is poorly lit and I fumble around looking for the phone. My heart is pounding in my ears and I feel the blood rush out of my face.

The little voice in my head is trying to come up with a million reasons as to why she would think someone was in her house with her. All of them are perfectly logical but my mind refuses to believe any of them. The only one I can accept is the one I don't want to. I see the glare from the setting sun hitting the phone case. It is lodged in between some of the metal innards from the chair that are sticking out. Without thinking, I jam my hand into the mess and pull out the phone. I ignore the blood streaming from the multiple cuts on my palm and fingers. I press the power button and dial her number. I put the phone up to my ear and listen. There is one ring, then two, then three, then I hear her voice come on and my heart soars. But only for a second.

"Hello you've reached Quinn! Sorry I can't get to-" I hang up. I don't know what to do. I go to write a text but the screen is covered in blood. I wipe it on my jeans and then write frantically. The phone shaking in my hands.

"Quinn get out of your house," I say. But there is no reply.

Author's Note

Please let me know if there are any grammar problems or unnecessary sentences or places where the plot doesn't make sense.