Not Like You

Chapter Thirty-One

I needed to go home for a weekend. Have you ever gotten that sudden urge to just go home? Homesickness? Well, I have it bad.

"Are you sure you wanna go home? Remember what happened last time?" Harlow asked as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"Yeah. I remember. But I think my Dad has accepted the fact Ethan won't be his little puppet anymore.

"That's good because even if your dad tried to take him back, I'd hide him away," I laughed and Harlow said her goodbye as I made my way to my car, crunching in the fresh snow.

It was like I was living weekend to weekend like a kid these days. I held onto the thoughts from one weekend, and they held me along to the next.

My phone buzzed and I answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Meil. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out this weekend," I closed my car door and sighed.

"Sorry, I'm going home this weekend. If you want, I can set something up for this week,"

"No, it's fine. I was just wondering,"

"Now, you're making me feel bad," he laughed on the other line and I heard shuffling.

"You're fine, Miel. Drive safe, okay?" we said our goodbyes and I started the trek home.

The roads were icy, but I managed to get home safely. Once I pulled into my driveway, I noticed the difference.

The house was clean on the outside, and the driveway was shoveled.

"I guess he stepped things up a notch," I grabbed my bag and made my way into the hose. As usual, the cat scurried away with a hiss.

"Dad?" I looked around, but he wasn't home.

"Again?" I grab my phone and text him.

ME: Hey, dad, where are you?

DAD: Just at home, why?

ME: Bull I'm home.

DAD: What do you mean?

ME: I'm at home right now. Like, in my room.

DAD: You should have told me you were coming home. I'm on a business trip.

ME: Then why did you say you were home.

DAD: You worry.

He wasn't wrong. One trip, he got lost and missed his flight back, so I think I had my right to be worried.

ME: Fair enough, but I'm leaving Sunday, and that's that.

DAD: Fair enough.

I sigh and put my stuff down on my bed. I had nothing to do. I came here to be home, but my home wasn't here. My parents weren't here. My old dog, Ruffles, (yes, name after the chips) passed two years ago. Everything changed, and instead of finding comfort in the place I called home, I curled into a ball and cried.

**************

My neighborhood was big. The houses weren't, so they squished more houses into one plane of grass.

I decided to change into clothes acceptable to be in the outside world and go on a walk. Even though my house had changed, the neighborhood didn't. Even the small playground built by a middle-aged man named Donald that lived next door for the neighborhood children was shiny.

As I crunched through the snow, I looked at the sunset and watched the neighborhood children play.

"Rose!" I turned to see Mrs. Campbell, who was pregnant with twins when I left for college. Her stomach was flat now.