Since You've Been Gone

chapter 39- thanks, i guess

brush fire - grace abrams

The glow of the TV stood out against the setting sun and darkness encroaching on my empty house.

My parents were away again for one of my dad's campaign parties, and Beau was at a weekend football tournament. Which meant, yep, I was in this big creaky house all by myself.

My first instinct when I found out that I would be alone all weekend, was to call Layla, but then I remembered she would be at the same tournament as Beau. So there went our girl's weekend.

And if Raeanna and Toby didn't go to college four hours away, I might have called them and asked if they could come to visit. But then again, things between Raeanna were still stiff and awkward.

The feeling of betrayal that filled my body when I learned that she had kept in contact with Connor and his siblings still lingered to this day. Not to mention all of the nasty and hateful remarks that we had yelled at each other.

It would take a while for us to be okay, and even then, I didn't know if we would be as close as we once were.

The next person on my very short list of friends was Connor. But the two of us had not spoken since the day I bolted from the football field.

I had been dodging him in the hallway, and the numerous texts and phone calls that he had sent me were left unanswered. I couldn't bring myself to hear his voice or read his messages in fear that I would cave.

I was so close to caving that it wasn't even funny.

Every time I was alone, my thoughts drifted off to Connor. He was so perfect. So, fucking perfect that it terrified me.

I was scared of out my mind that I would never live up to what he wanted me to be. That he had this obscene picture in his head of what potential I had.

Connor had always been the 'perfect' kid growing up. He was a straight-A student, an incredible athlete, and one of the most genuine people you would ever meet. And he deserved someone as equally incredible.

So, now that I had practically eliminated all of my close friends and exiled myself from the rest of my classmates, I was sitting utterly alone in my living room, watching Jersey Shore.

I had consumed an ungodly amount of reality television over the last couple of months, but watching other people's lives brought me the most normalcy I had felt since I found out I was pregnant. Also, even though I had seen most of the episodes of Jersey Shore, it never bored me to hear their shouting and arguments.

"This is such fucking bullshit," I grumbled. My parents had moved most of the junk food in our house onto the highest shelf in the pantry in an attempt to try and make me eat healthier. But c'mon how unfair? I'm pregnant, the Cheetos aren't for me they're for the baby.

Out of nowhere as I began to pull over a chair to stand on, there was a knock at the front door.

My hands came up to my chest as I tried to calm my racing heart. Who the fuck was that? Who would be at the door?

Immediately, I thought the worst.

It was Jack, and he was here to kidnap me and then dump my body in a ditch.

Probably not the most logical, but it seemed to make sense in my brain.

As I stood in the kitchen, frozen with the wooden chair in my hand, another knock rang out. Oh fuck.

Slowly, I let go of the chair and grabbed the butcher knife from the knife block sitting on the counter next to me. If I was going to get kidnapped, I was going out with a fight.