I had music blaring from my iPod as I walked home from school. It had been a pretty good day, making me incredibly hopeful for the rest of the school year. Suddenly, a flash of bright blue passed. I looked over to find a pickup truck barreling down then screeching to a stop right next to me. It was so loud I could hear it through my music. I pulled out my headphones and turned to see a smiling Zaylie hanging out the window. Speak of the devil!
“Hey hey, need a ride?” she asked as the driver continued to inch forward alongside as I walked.
“That would have been awesome! But I actually live right around the corner, so I’m good. But thanks for the offer,” I replied and leaned forward to give a small wave to Desmond who was driving. He jerked his head up and smirked in response.
“Must be nice to live so close to school! Or not. Depends on how you look at it I suppose.” She gave me a huge grin.
“Well, since I foresee no car at my disposal in the near future, it’s definitely a good thing,” I laughed. “I pretty much have to walk everywhere.”
“If you ever need a ride, just let us know!” she replied with a smile that lit up her eyes.
“Thanks! I will.” I smiled back.
“See you tomorrow!” she barely got out as Desmond squealed the tires and took off in a hurry shouting, “See ya!”
It made me laugh, already feeling us becoming good friends and making my day that much brighter.
But it was very short-lived when my stomach suddenly tightened into a deep knot as I came around the curve and saw a blue Toyota sitting in the driveway; his blue Toyota. I clenched my teeth and wondered what Ray was doing home. He shouldn’t be here. It was Wednesday, and he always worked late on Wednesdays. He was never here before 8 p.m., and I had enough time to clean the house and make sure it wasn’t a mess before he got home.
I shuddered to think what my evening was going to be like now. I had planned to stop home, quickly grab my cell phone that I had stupidly left on my dresser this morning, and head to my favorite place. What was I going to do now? No way would he let me leave when I just got home from school.
The sound of the front door slamming shut interrupted my thoughts. I saw him walking down the sidewalk heading toward his car. I jumped behind the nearest tree, hoping he didn’t see me. I heard the car start and a couple seconds later it backed out of the driveway and drove down the street heading the opposite way.
I let out a huge gasp of air. That was close; too close. A couple seconds later and I would have met him face-to-face at the front door. Yuck. I tried to avoid him at all costs, rarely even uttering his name. Thankfully I was able to take care of myself, so I really didn’t need him for anything.
As soon as I opened the door, I cringed from the awful stench of alcohol. This was my usual reaction when entering the front door, but this was worse. Like he had just drunk something before he left. How did he even keep his job? It always amazed me—and not in a good way—the amount of liquor this guy could drink yet still manage to function and go to work every day. Who would want to be around someone like that? I felt sorry for his coworkers.
I dropped my head in my hand, wishing he would man up and quit acting like a college frat boy. I didn’t want to deal with this right now. Every second spent here meant less time spent with Rydan. Maybe I could just leave it and get to it later...
On the other hand, if I didn’t clean up the huge mess he had obviously just made, and he somehow came home before me again, he would be extremely angry tonight. As much as I wanted to get out of there, I didn’t want to deal with that either, and it was not worth taking that risk.
I looked to the familiar corner of the living room and sure enough, I saw it. A newly broken bottle of…what was it this time? Jack. Jack Daniels was his favorite. I closed out an eerie feeling creeping up on me because I knew that when he found Jack, it wasn’t a good sign. It was his go-to when something went bad.
Why he liked to throw empty bottles against the wall and watch them shatter into thousands of pieces was beyond me, but it was an unspoken agreement that I would clean it up.
My theory was the only reason he did it was to punish me since the first time he did it was the day after his wife died. He would always find as many ways as he could to make me suffer. If I didn’t clean up the mess, then it would give him an excuse to punish me in other ways, which usually ended with bruises.
I tried not to dwell on it. Soon, very soon, I would be out of here, and he could no longer push me around.
After I quickly cleaned the mess, dumping the glass in the trash, I ran to my room to grab my cell phone and headed out the door.