We the Weirdos

Chapter Thirty-One

"When do you turn eighteen again?" I asked, panicked. What if he ends up in Africa? What if he gets on this wrong flight? Or what if, even worse, he gets on the wrong plane?

Don't tease me for worrying. These problems actually are realistic and might occur.

"In a month," He said, "I thought I already told you that."

"You did?" I asked. I was probably too busy panicking that I didn't even notice.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." He replied.

"When are you leaving?" I asked.

"Didn't know you wanted me to leave that soon," he chuckled nervously. Before I had a chance to reply, he quickly said, "Just kidding. I'm leaving tomorrow. Or that's what Mr. Ex President over there said." His eyes darted to the ex-president on the phone.

Huh. His phone was newer than mine.

What am I saying? Of course, his phone was better than mine! He was the frickin president! Well, ex-president. Still. He's richer than... I'm not sure, but I can gladly assure you that he's richer than I am.

We watched him turn off his phone. "So, you ready to go?" He asked Lysander.

"Wait... we're leaving RIGHT NOW?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes," He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "That's what I said."

No, that is exactly what he didn't say.

Unlike Mr. Ex-President, SOME people don't have that much money to buy new clothing wherever they go.

"My clothes aren't at the grocery store... my house is... wait, do you want my address?" He asked.

"That would be nice," The president chuckled.

"Erm... uh, go you need me to go?" I asked nervously.

He sighed. "Young people and their questions... working with Mickey Mouse would be even better than this." He muttered.

He paused and thought about it. "Nevermind. He's young too."

He looked at me. "I'm afraid so."

Come on. He literally ended the war in Iraq, and he's afraid of something pathetic like me going home? Why are presidents afraid of me going home? Does he think I'm going to blow up my house or something?

Probably, but I'm not crazy to that level (I hope).

"Who's going to take her home? I took her here." He said. Welp, there goes the idea of pretending to not know I went to the store.

Mr. Ex- President smiled serenely. "Dear girl, I hope you can drive."
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I don't really feel like telling you how that car ride went.

Let's just say... I had a whole refresh on how to drive a car.

I finally got the hang of it halfway to my house. After a bike passed me, I felt incredibly discouraged. But, hey, no cars honked at me, so I guess I'm good.

I laid on my bed when I stomped upstairs after greeting my mom, who had the day off.

After dinner was eaten, one dreadful question clouded my mind.

What if he never comes back?

He'll come back. He'll come back, I assured myself.

Then, my brain was like 'No, you're actually thinking he won't come back.'

Sighing, I got up from my bed and got ready. Who invented Mondays? And can they un-invent them? I can literally imagine President Obama being like 'I'm afraid not, dear girl.'