Page 74 of Suit

Tick.

You don’t actually live here.

Tock.

You just pretend like you do.

Tick.

Ken loves nothing.

Tock.

You knew it right from the start.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

I rolled over and smacked the alarm clock, wiping an angry, embarrassed tear from my cheek with the side of my hand.

And now, time’s up.

I got up and sprinted for the bathroom. I couldn’t get away from there fast enough. From Ken. From that house. From the lie I’d been living in.

I got ready for school in a haphazard flurry, using the few products I had in my purse and the ones I’d stashed under Ken’s sink. I pulled my purplish mop with two inches of auburn roots up into a messy bun and didn’t even bother with my signature wing-tip eyeliner. There was no point. It would be running down my face by the time I got to school anyway.

With my combat boots still untied, I bolted down the stairs, grabbed my backpack off the floor by the couch, and took off out the front door without so much as a good-bye.

I was pretty sure the window-rattling slam had said it for me.

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