Page 74 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“All the time. We’re very similar, actually. We just have to figure out a way to deal with those emotions, other than yelling and fighting. That leads to nothing good.”

“Lacrosse helps.”

“That’s a good start. Did walking help?”

“Yes.”

“Great. So, we don’t always know why you feel angry, but we do know how we can make you feel a little better. Maybe you should start a journal.”

“That’s for girls!”

“No, it’s not. I write all the time. It makes me feel much better. It helps me understand why I feel the way that I do.”

“I’ve never seen you write.”

“I write when I’m alone. Only when I feel like I need to.”

“What would I write in a journal?” He turns to look at me.

“Maybe write how you’re feeling and what might have happened to cause that. Then, if I’m home from work, we can go on a walk, or a jog. I’m not that fast, though, and my legs are much shorter than yours.” I make a joke at my own expense. That always seems to cheer people up.

He smiles. “Won’t you be tired after work?”

“Nah. I’m never too tired for you.”

“You always say you’re tired.”

“Then I’ll push through it. Some exercise will be good for me.”

“Can we go for a walk now?” he asks.

“Yes. Let me get dressed.” I push up on my knees and stand, hearing my body crack. I feel so old for twenty-one. Danny doesn’t notice.

“Can I miss first period every day so we can go on a walk?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Was worth a shot.”

I head toward my bedroom to get dressed for our walk. Maybe all those parenting books are paying off. That went quite well.

Chapter Thirteen

Hayley

WHY AM I DOING THIS? Am I stupid? Desperate? I knock, then put my arms behind my back and clasp my hands tightly. Tristian answers the door.

“Hals? What the fuck are you doing here?!” He smiles and leans against the doorframe. The way he looks down at me makes me feel so small. I hate it, but...I kind of like it? No!

“Look, I need kickers.” I don’t meet his eyes.

“What happened to quitting?”

“I am quitting, but not cold turkey. Just like little by little.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you finally ran out of pills, and you’ve come crawling back to me?”

“I am not crawling!” I answer frustratedly. Is frustratedly a word? I unclasp my hands.

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