no control

• seventeen •

gladys

My hands smoothed over the soft cotton short-sleeve shirt and distressed jeans I wore. The weather would be reaching the low seventies today, so I didn't have to wear a sweater today.

I draped a light leather jacket over my arm just in case and grabbed my backpack. Heading to the kitchen, I hummed happily knowing I was alone. Bernice left for work already and Alyssa was always gone during the week.

After pouring some coffee into a thermos, I grabbed a breakfast bar from the pantry and turned to leave. A bright yellow hoodie blocked my path.

I screeched and jumped back, throwing a hand up over my heart. Alyssa snickered as I plucked out the earbuds. My first thought was acknowledging that we were alone in the house.

"Didn't mean to scare you there, Gladdie Pie," she said, smiling a bit too hard.

I attempted to put more space between us while my eyes searched for an escape route. "Morning. Don't you have work?"

"Not that it's your business," she snipped, "but I have today off. I got overtime on Saturday. Don't you have school?"

"Yep." I raised my thermos. "Heading there now."

When I moved to step forward and pass her, she stepped into my path. I stiffened. What was this bitch's problem?

"I just think we need to establish something," she told me.

"Okay?"

"You may be family," she said, "but Bernice is my girl. You can't turn her against me. She needs me. She's never going to pick you over me. Understand?"

My hands curled into fist, heat gathering behind my sternum. "Why were you in my bed?"

"We already talked about this." She rolled her eyes. "Chill out already. It was nothing."

"You touched me."

"Please. Why would I want to touch you?"

I gaped. "You're just denying it now?"

"How about you get the fuck to school?" she said coolly. "Bernie won't like it if you get a tardy."

"Fuck you," I muttered and shouldered past her, going straight to the front door.

My feet had never moved down the pavement so quickly before. I needed to get away. School was the last place I wanted to be right now, but I needed a distraction. And besides, that bitch was right about own thing. Bernice would not be happy with me if the school called about a tardy.

At each corner or crosswalk, I found myself glancing around for Elijah's car. Disappointment nudged me a little harder each time my search proved futile. My imagination ran with the possibilities. I let it, desperate to dwell on anyone but the gaslighting bitch in my wake.

Maybe he's dead, I mused. Maybe he's decided to stay faithful to his wife.

My stomach cramped with nausea. The idea that he belonged to someone else physically ailed me. His skin against another's. His eyes fixated on another. That resolute focus ensnared by someone else. Pain squeezed inside my chest.

I needed to stop thinking about him. This was clearly unhealthy.

He was a stranger. A mere stranger who blew into my life and crashed through every wall before rolling on out. He was a tumbleweed. Coming and going as he pleased with the wind. There one day and gone the next.

As the brick school building grew larger and larger, I promised myself that I would stop thinking these silly thoughts. I had to focus on my future, my next steps. No one was going to protect and fight for my future but me.