Growing up (Get Scared- continued)

Why were you following me?

Johnny' pov. 

  My parents have come back in to town. It's been four hours and all I've been getting is foot up my ass about school coming up, my mess of a room, and the dirty dishes Sheila and I left in the sink. It's been four hours and all I've wanted to do is rip my hair out everytime I hear my dad's voice. It's been four hours and all I can think of is running away from home.

  I grab my backpack and shove some belongings in it: a cassette player, a few albums, two shirts, jeans, and my skate board, which sticks out from the top. My acoustic guitar on the wall, you're coming with me today. My dear electric, my child and my soul, I'm sorry but you are too much of a hassle, but I will return for you... Maybe..

It's dead silent in the house. The air is thin and polluted by the words exchanged just earlier today. The living room is empty, meaning it's clear to go through the front door. My foot steps get louder and echo in my ears as I walk through the desolate house.

Once I'm out, I can finally breathe. I walk without turning back, or even wanting to. 

"I'm coming back, I swear," I say to myself, "I have to come back."

I leave the neighborhood, following the sidewalk to where ever it takes me.  It's pretty sunny today, making the heat radiate off the concrete and through the souls of my shoes.

  I cross the street to get to the small shopping center. This is where that pizza place Lloyd, Nick and I ate at. I remember getting here and being nervous. That was my chance to make friends here and to start anew. Once I got there, I realized I wasn't the only who was nervous, which made me relax and keep my cool. I sat next to Nick and across from Lloyd, which I think made Nick even more nervous and shy.

  Now look at us now. Nothing much has changed, really. Nick is still nervous and shy most of the time, I still try to act cool, and Lloyd is the nice one.

I hear someone walking up behind me, so I swing my body around quickly. The neck of my guitar case hits him on the knee.

"Aw fuck!" 

It's Nick?

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask him.

He continues rubbing the side of his knee, as I rub my guitar as if it had feeling. "I may or may not have followed you here," he admits with hesitation in his voice, "not- not in a creepy way, I swear." He looks down, keeping all eye contact at zero.

"Why were you following me?" I ask.

"I was gonna stop by to say thank you for letting me crash at your place and for being there for me, but then I saw you leaving your house. I figured you were just gonna go to the park, but you kept walking and I was too scared to call out for you, but my legs kept moving and uh-" he stops, "and now I'm here... Looking like a fucking stalker."

I laugh. This kid's a Dork. But he's my friend so it's okay. "Well, you got me now. Say what you gotta say."

We start walking as he starts talking. "Well uh, thank you for- for me letting intrude your humble home," he says, "also sorry for waking you up at like 3 in the morning, my bad."

"Of course, bud. You can count me any time. But, really don't worry about it, I wake up at 3 am all the time anyways."

He doesn't say anything back. I think he's stuck.

"What were you dreaming about though?" I ask, hoping that I don't trigger anything.

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck. "Well it wasn't really a dream; it was more like nightmare."