Run Away Teen

Chapter Fifteen: Home Again

   Prima’s brand new shiny black car pulls up in front of the station and she sprints out (surprisingly fast, in heels that high!) to greet me.

   “Ever!” she sobs, as she hugs me, “I’ve missed you so so bad!”

   “Me too!” I cry, and hug her back.

   When we pull apart, I laugh at the black mascara snakes trailing down her cheeks.The laugh is a weird sound, like a snort, and a hiccup, because I’m crying at the same time. I say goodbye to Martin and hop in Prima’s new car.

  “Flash,” I sniffle, and we both laugh at how pathetic I sound.

  “Let’s get you home,” Prima suggests, and that’s when I have an idea. A dumb, extremely pointless idea, sure, but an idea nonetheless.   

   “Prima, can we take a detour?” I ask, and she shrugs, “sure, where to?”

   I think for a minute, though I already know where I want to go. “The Playground,” I say and, with little more than a weird look, Vera drives off to The Playground. About 10 minutes from our house, there’s a large, very popular, playground. Where we live, you haven’t had a childhood if you haven’t played on The Playground practically every single day between the ages of 3 and 10. Needless to say, it’s home to many memories.

   “Why are we here?” Prima eventually asks.

   “You’ll see,” I tell her, getting out of the car. Possibly, I add in my head.

   People are swarming around the playground, kids climbing, adults nattering, dogs running wild. I walk over to the tallest point of the playground, the high slide tower, and climb it. Once I’m on top of it, I look down at everyone below me.

   “Hello, everyone!” I shout into the wind, “you may’ve read about me in the news. I’m Everleigh Gabbard, and I’m going home!”

  Even though I couldn’t be heard above the din of playground chatter, I feel better for saying it out loud. For being brave…and I’m not just talking about screaming atop of the playground. I slide down and get into my sister’s car.

  “What was that all about?” she asks.

   “Nothing,” I smile calmly, “just something I had to do. Now let’s go!”

   She starts driving, and I count exactly seven seconds before she starts nagging me about my hair.

   “Where did you  get it cut? Was it a professional place? Why did you cut it?” she fires at me.

   “I did it myself,” I state simply, and she swerves all over the road, trying to interpret this.

   “You what!?” she exclaims, once she’s driving in a straight line again.

   “I cut it myself,” I repeat slowly.

   “I’ve always told you; never cut your hair by yourself! You’ll get split ends! Plus, you had beautiful long hair, it was your most distinctive feature!” she fumes.

   “Hi, Prima, I’ve missed you too!” I roll my eyes.

   We pull up in front of our house, and silence falls upon us in the car, like a suffocatingly thick, woolly blanket.

   “So...we’re here,” Vera points out awkwardly.

   “Yeah...” I reply.

   I open the car door, but don’t undo my seatbelt.

  “Let’s go in?” Vera suggests, getting out of her car.

   I follow, and she locks it behind us. I take a deep breath and knock on the navy blue door, staring at the three police cars and one unknown red car on the driveway next to Prima’s, Ben’s, mum’s, and ‘The Man’s’. I hear a pair of high heels, and some other, slightly lighter, footsteps, and then the door opens.