In Between Times (Complete Novel, Mastered May 12th, 2022)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

— I AM A HUMAN-BEING, thank you for noticing

Fireflies – Owl City (acoustic instrumental cover by Naiah Yabes) ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

AMELIA:

I just started walking. Cars are passing me as I walk on the grassy side near the highway. I really like the way the grass looks. This is real, natural grass. I'm not used to seeing it. I don't know how long it's going to take for me to get back to Vegas, and I don't really care. My mind is still brewing over the possibility of seeing my mother again. What if that text message was from her?

I have always considered the possibilities to be my leading point to failure, or unhappiness, and I now realize I shouldn't feel that way. I start asking myself questions — a lot of questions that I can't answer on my own. At this stage in my life, I can't answer those questions for myself, not at all. I've always tried to avoid the possibilities, so I can remain where I stand in my life, even though my life isn't perfect. Borderline pathetic is better than pure shit.

I kick my wet shoes off my feet as I stand there, accepting the green grass settling between my toes. I just stand and observe for a moment, because this is a moment of life that feels real. My feet are wet, my jean shorts are riving up my ass, and my light t-shirt smells like motor oil.

I am a human-being.

I'm a bitch. I act like I know everything, and I carry myself around like I don't give a shit. I can't handle change, and I don't know how to prepare myself for it. I lied to Parrish when I said I could handle change — because it has happened so often. I hide away from the world and rely on other things and certain people to distract me.

I am a selfish, and completely fucked up human-being.

I bend my knees so I can reach my shoes, and I pick them up by the heels. I start walking again.

I don't have to go to the Underdog's roof just because I got an anonymous text message. There's a hope within me saying that I should go to the Underdog's roof. There are plenty of possibilities, and there is a risk involved — but maybe it's time for me to live a little.

I felt the urge whenever I first saw the message, and I was out on the road fast — determined. I like the way it feels to be determined and ready to face something that is faceless. I don't know what I'm getting myself into, but I want to find out. I feel free like this, and completely alive.

I hear my feet hit the grass as I continue to walk.

I pause, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. I look at the text message again. Who sent this? I need to know.

I click on the number, calling it, but it goes to voicemail after three absent rings. I exhale as I take the phone from my ear to look at the screen once more. I flinch when my phone vibrates in my hand.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

No calls.

Whoever this is, they don't seem trustworthy. If it were my mother, I'm sure she'd be glad to talk to me on the phone. If this is anyone that I know, I'd like to think they'd be comfortable with talking to me on the phone. I'm now torn on what I should do. The Underdog's roof? Who would possibly want to meet me on the Underdog's roof?

I'm beyond confused.

I decide to text the number instead, since they don't want me to call them.

ME:

Who is this?

I hold the phone extended in my hand, not exactly patient. I'm just standing on the side of the road, expectantly waiting for a reply as I tap my barefoot on the ground — my shoes held in my free hand. My phone suddenly vibrates, and my eyes widen as my fingers move to open the message.