Page 10 of Between Never and Forever
“If you don’t want me to come here anymore, fine,” she says, turning back around and walking back to the window. “I don’t need you, ya know. I can j—”
“Shut up, Savannah. You know that’s not it. Stop being a brat.”
“Did you just call me a brat?”
She laughs, then tries to hide the wince that follows.
“You gonna kick me after I’ve already been kicked?”
My mouth drops open. I’m horrified. I feel terrible. I start to apologize, but she rolls her eyes.
“I’m just kiddin’,Leviticus.” She slides the window back open. “Stop bein’ such a weenie.”
Now I roll my eyes.
“That’s not my name.”
She smirks.
“Close enough.”
We don’t say anything else. Savannah thinks the subject is settled, and I let her. I stand and watch as she inches out my window, and I don’t lie back down until she disappears into the semi-darkness. I stare at the ceiling until my alarm goes off, and then I make up my mind.
“Mom,” I say when I step into the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”
3
I slipout of Levi’s house as the sun starts to come up. Quietly, so I don’t wake up his kraken of a mother.
She’s such a jerk. She thinks I’m going to corrupt Levi or something.
My lips twitch and I laugh softly. I mean, she’s not wrong, I guess. I did just climb out of his bedroom window after sleeping over. I’m back in my soaked jeans and t-shirt, but just a few minutes ago I was wearing Levi’s pjs, too.
But still. What’s she think I’m gonna do? Have sex with him? Use him as a human sacrifice? Brainwash him into joining a satanic cult?
No, thank you. None of that interests me.
I kick a rock on the sidewalk. I hate that she hates me. But I hate it even more because she’s probably right to hate me. I just wish it didn’t make it so hard to be friends with the only person I can tolerate in this stupid freaking town.
I kick another rock and try to ignore the way my shoes squish with each step, and how I can feel blisters forming on my heels. I shouldn’t have been out in the storm last night, but I really didn’t have much choice.
Screw up my only pair of shoes or stay at the house for worse.
No shoes are worth it.
I cross town in silence, moving from smooth pavement, sidewalks, and streetlights to dirty grass, cracks, and darkness. It’s crazy the difference a mile can make. The houses get smaller, the weeds taller, until I reach my block of single-wides. I step off the road and cut through a few of the neighbors’ yards. It’s getting lighter as the sun rises, and I don’t want to be seen.
Not that I will be. They’re probably passed out. If I was a lucky person, which I’m not, they’d both be dead.
I slow my steps to a crawl as I enter the yard of the house next to mine, tiptoeing carefully so I don’t scrunch the grass. I check the front of the house and note that there are no extra cars at the curb, which means Terry hasn’t brought any of hisfriendsover. I hold my breath to listen, and when I’m met with silence, I pick up my pace until I’m at my window. Slowly, I push it open until I can fit my body through. Lifting myself over the ledge hurts more than usual, my side throbbing with heat and pain, but I don’t stop until I’m crouching on the floor of my bedroom. I pause again to listen, waiting to see if anyone heard me come in.
Still silence.
I move quickly, stripping out of my wet clothes and changing into dry ones. My heel is bleeding, so I put on two pairs of socks, and I stifle a groan as I slip my feet back into my wet shoes. Then my stomach rumbles. I try to remember the last time I ate. Definitely not yesterday.
I tiptoe to my door and put my ear against it. It still sounds quiet, so I turn the knob and push it open just far enough to peek through the crack.
The scent of cigarettes, stale beer, and something chemical hits me immediately. The smell always seems stronger after I’ve stayed the night at Levi’s or The Pit, and it takes me a minute to adjust. The curtains are pulled shut over the windows and there isn’t a single light on in the house, but I can hear snoring coming from the living room.
