[completed]
shane dawson was everything your parents warned you about; not just reckless, but a trouble maker too. the boy who got held back a year. the boy who drinks and smokes and parties and sleeps with every girl on campus.
and ryland adams? we...
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shane's pov reminder — in this book, ryland's parents are fictional. momma adams is everything!!
we have not left ryland's room in five hours. right now, it is eleven am and his parents have been banging on his door for the last half an hour. they certainly did not appreciate it when i opened it just enough to peak my head through and told his mom (politely, of course) to piss off. i have believed that well manners get you everywhere in live. and by everywhere, in this case, nowhere.
we had a game plan. i had snuck out at around six am, once i had calmed ryland down, and sprinted back home. this would be the last time i'd see this house in a while, at least that was the plan. i hugged my mom, told her that i loved her and then proceeded to grab all of my savings money, my phone and charger, the special polaroid of ryland on my back, my toothbrush and toothpaste, and i drove back to ryland's house on my motorbike.
we were now sprawled in the middle of his bedroom floor, piles of money around us. it looked like we had done a bank robbery, yet in reality they were mostly just one dollar notes.
"how much did you say we have?" ryland asked, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes.
i sighed. "two hundred and seventy-four dollars." i replied, stacking all the notes together and putting them inside my wallet. despite it seeming like a lot of money in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't not get us very far.
if you haven't realised so far, we're running away.
"it's enough, shane," ryland mumbled, "we can try get some more on our way there." when i asked him how, he shrugged and went back to packing his essentials.
we'd decided to just wear the clothes off our own back: i stuck with my best black skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt, along with my signature green hoodie, the stars and domino logo fading from washes. ryland had decided to wear his soft blue boyfriend jeans and my 'i can't remember what i forgot to forget' hoodie. we both wore black converse and black socks.
we each designated ourselves a backpack which held spare underwear, tooth brushes, power banks for our phones along with their chargers, a fold up coat for the both of us and a spare hoodie each in case of emergency. ryland had his blue harry styles sweater and i had my bear one. it felt strange to be leaving so much behind.
"should i bring my laptop?" ryland asked, speaking in hushed tones, "it's light and small enough to fit into my bag, and plus i can download films and whole box sets onto netflix so we can watch stuff without wifi."
i nodded enthusiastically. "definitely. okay, write these down in your notes," i instructed, "drag race, stranger things, riverdale, end of the fucking world, skins and... friends. all ten series of friends." i listed, ryland typing quickly onto his phone and nodding as he immediately begun setting all the programmes to download.
