Page 10 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“Then how?”

“I mean, yes. A plane. I took a plane. Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

I laugh out loud. “Peter, this story makes no sense.”

He stops cleaning and presses both hands flat on the countertop, looking down. “It doesn’t have to make sense. It’s my story, and I’ll tell it the way I want to.”

“Okay...”

He takes a breath.

“Cool. Now that’s settled,” he responds, still keeping his back to us.

Danny and I look at each other and not in a vicious, “I hate you” kind of way. More in a “what the hell?” kind of way. I guess there’s a first for everything.

I start eating. Maybe it’s best I’ve never had any real feelings for Peter. I can’t stand secrets, and he has so many.

Now Peter’s wiping the countertop dry. He takes the rag, hangs it on the oven handle, and turns around.

I examine him. He’s so domesticated lately, almost feminine, with that ballerina bun on top of his head. All I can see are his flaws. His crooked nose, the way one of his eyes opens wider than the other, the three freckles on his forehead. I never noticed these things until recently, but now, I pick him apart in my mind. I dissect every last one of his imperfections. I could break him—shatter him, if I wanted to.

He sees me looking at him and smiles. I smile back.

Man, are his teeth big!

Danny

I’M SITTING ON THEbus, staring out the window. I can’t wait for it to move. Luckily, the bus stop is in front of our apartment complex. It’s freezing outside, but I actually like the walk to our building. I don’t mind my new school too much either, besides the work. It’s been a long day, though, and I’m ready to go home.

“Hey, Danny!”

That kid from my math class just came through the bus door. What’s his name? I don’t remember... Matt? I think that’s it. I didn’t make any new friends yet. It’s weird being the brown kid raised by white people. No matter what school you go to, you don’t really fit in anywhere.

Matt sits beside me. His backpack is bigger than he is. He takes it off and puts it on the floor between his legs.

“She’s such a bitch, right?” he asks.

“Who?”

“Mrs. Roland.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean? She embarrassed you in front of the whole class!”

“She did?”

“You’re funny, Danny.” He laughs.

“I’m just not good at math. I wasn’t embarrassed, though.”

“Oh... Sorry, then. Hey, we should hang out one day.”

“Uh... Yeah, sure.”

Maybe this kid wants to be my friend? I don’t know, that was a weird way to break the ice. I need a friend, though.

The bus starts rolling.

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