Page 101 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“Yeah, because they wouldn’t fit him. I’m way bigger...right?”

“Whatever you say, Tristian.”

“Wait. Oh, fuck... Hayley, my key was in there!”

“You put it back in your wallet?”

“Yes.”

Fuck... Peter’s definitely going to act like an asshole.

“Why? I gave you a key ring.”

“Does it matter why? Fuck!” He puts his hands on his head.

“He didn’t look through your wallet. Even if he did, he won’t know it’s a key to our apartment.”

There is a one hundred percent chance Peter looked through Tristian’s wallet, found the key, and knows it’s a key to our apartment, but I need to calm Tristian down right now.

“He’s a smart fuck. He definitely knows it’s a key to the apartment!”

Maybe Tristian knows Peter too well to try to calm him down now.

“I guess we’ll just see then.”

He’s quiet. I study him. He notices and turns my way.

“What?”

“I just think you’re handsome.”

“Thanks,” he mutters. He pulls a box of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“You’re welcome.”

“Fuck, I hate walking! You should start driving him to his first job so you have the car in the morning.”

I laugh. “No way in hell is he going to let me have the car during the day. I already get to use it at night most of the time.”

“Why, so it can just sit in the parking lot of his job? He’s such a selfish prick.”

How does Peter help Danny cool down? It usually works. Maybe I should try it on Tristian.

“Can we stop talking about Peter for one minute and talk about us? Let’s enjoy the rest of our walk, just relaxing... Not talking about anything or anyone who makes us angry.”

“It’s hard not to talk about him when he’s such an ugly little weasel.”

We’re quiet for the remainder of the walk, but I can tell Tristian’s thinking about something—and not something pleasant, either. He keeps shaking his head and mumbling. We finally reach the door of the apartment. I knock.

“You didn’t bring your key?” Tristian asks.

“I thought you had yours, Tristian.”

“Hey, fuck face!” Peter yells from above us.

Shit. No. I look up. He’s leaning out of the window.

“Peter, let’s not do this. This is not a good time,” I call up to him.

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