“I need to talk to her,” I pleaded. I glanced up at her window, desperate to see her face one last time.

“Leave!” he shouted.

“But—”

Without another word, he turned toward his front door and quietly stalked away.

Surprised he didn’t pick me up and throw me toward the street. I scratched my head, staring at his retreating figure, thankful for my dumb luck. Yet I knew better than to stand out there for long. Mr. Rossi was up to something. I just didn’t know what.

Quickly, I ran toward the front lawn, listening to the grass crunch as I positioned myself under Rocky’s bedroom window.

“Rocky! Rocky! Open up!”

There was a slight rustling amid the baby blue curtains before a makeup-streaked face peered between the cloth. “Jesse! What are you doing here? If my parents see you here, they’ll kill you!”

How was I supposed to tell the one person I cared about that I may never see her again? Feeling my soul crumble, I cried out, “They’re making me leave, Rocky.”

“What?” Her face was one of fear-stricken panic. “Who?”

“My parents. My dad.” I gulped, fighting back a feeling of hysteria that pushed against my core. “That’s why he’s coming up. He actually should be here in a few hours.”

“Wait, you’re moving?” Her voice was barely a squeak.

“My mom kicked me out. I have to move to Charleston.” Saying each word out loud was like a knife being twisted inside my chest. The pain was almost unbearable.

“No!” she screeched almost angrily. “You can’t leave.”

The tears I tried so hard to fight began to fall. Luckily, it was probably too dark for her to see them roll down my cheeks, but truthfully I wouldn’t care if she did. Maybe then she’d finally see how much she really meant to me. “I’m sorry, Rocky.” I bit back another sob. “I’m also sorry for leaving you tonight. I was getting this for you. For us.”

I unfolded the portrait—the stupid picture that I risked everything for. The stupid sketch that caused me to lose it all.

“Wait, you stole it from the Art Department?” she gasped.

If this was really the last time I’d be seeing her, I really needed her to know the truth behind my feelings. Whether the universe was against us or not, I needed to take my stand. Taking one last breath, I lifted my chin and did my best to catch her beautiful eyes. “I…I needed to prove to you that I lo—”

“Rocky! Who are you talking to? Is that…Jesse Tyler! You better get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Ah, so there was Mr. Rossi.

A look of annoyance flashed over Rocky’s face. “Jesse, wait there! I’m going—”

There was some yelling and a bit of a scuffle that followed. Though I wanted desperately to barge into the house to make sure Rocky was okay I thought better of it, finally making my first good decision in a long time. Rocky would only be ‘okay’ if I wasn’t there. Her father was angry because of me—she was in trouble because of me.

I needed to leave, but that didn’t mean it would be forever.

“I’ll be back, Rocky.” Recalling the stupid pact I made with her that night, I added, “Remember my promise! We’ll leave together!”

Chapter 9

The edge of the paper fluttered in the wind, threatening to fly away. I tightened my grip and bit back a sob. Crying didn’t come easy for me. Even when I was constantly berated by my mother for being scum, I never shed a tear. Yet, seeing Rocky’s face crumble with defeat broke whatever emotional wall I had built around my heart.

I ran. I kept running, hoping that everything was just a nightmare. I sprinted through town ignoring the stares and the whispers of my narrow-minded neighbors and ran past the small sign separating the ‘good’ part of town from the ‘bad.’ As I neared my house I found myself wondering why I was in such a hurry. It wasn’t home—definitely not anymore. Regardless, I had nowhere else to go.

With my heart beating loudly, crying out in pain, I rounded the corner toward my house and skidded to a stop. My boxers, jeans, shirts—every single item of clothing I owned—was scattered on my front lawn.

“Mom! What are you doing?” I stomped over to the ripped window screen and peered past the loose flap to find my mother on a rampage. Her head was barely visible, hidden in my closet. “Mom! Stop it!”

She turned around furiously, eyes flashing wildly. Her hair was a ball of frizz caked with dry food and dandruff. “I am so glad to finally get rid of you, you no good bastard! Go! Go to fucking Charleston and go ruin your daddy’s perfect new marriage while you’re at it.”

Something inside me finally snapped. Without thinking twice, I lunged toward the window, pulling against the nylon grid. “Stop blaming me for your bullshit! You wonder why your life is so fucked up? It’s not me who’s fucked up in the head, it’s you! You want somebody to love you? Then stop loving that fucking bottle! You want to have a marriage that works? Stop using your husband’s money to feed your addiction! Get some help, you worthless excuse for a mother!”

Mom’s pale lips trembled slightly, and even behind her bloodshot eyes I saw pain. Now, I may not have been perfect, and though I was hurt, I still found it in myself to feel a bit horrible. That guilt was short-lived.

“You son of a bitch!” she screamed back, chucking a pair of sneakers toward my face.

I dodged the rubber soles just in time and smacked my tongue in anger. I refrained from reminding her that technically, she would be the bitch in that situation, and kept my face cold. “Have fun taking care of yourself, you leech.”

“Don’t you even dare set foot into this house again! Stay away from me.” An audible sob escaped her throat as she turned back to wrecking more of my stuff.

Feeling emotionally exhausted, I finally lost all my will to fight back. Swallowing twice, I took a few steps away from the window and asked, “When’s Dad coming?”

Instead of answering, she pushed herself from my closet and walked toward my bedroom door. Turning at the threshold, she lifted her chin. “Goodbye, Jesse.”

I laughed, not knowing what else to do. “Goodbye indeed.”

***

A cold breeze traveled up the thin cotton of my shirt. Trying hard to fall asleep, I shivered and curled up tighter, burying myself in the scratchy dead grass of our lawn. I stared at the piles of clothing littering the yard, and though I was tempted to throw some on, my pride stopped me. I didn’t want any of that stuff. If Mom was keen on throwing me out, I didn’t want anything she touched.

I must have finally dozed off, because I didn’t hear him walk up beside me. In fact, I didn’t even wake up until I felt the toe of his shoe nudge me slightly against the shin. “Jesse? What the hell are you doing out here?”

It was as if Hades himself had manifested in front of me. I froze, debating on whether to pretend to continue sleeping or whether to jump to my feet and run away.

“Jesse?” he repeated curiously.

Deciding that it was probably better to bite the bullet, I pried my eyes open and pushed myself into a seated position. “You got here fast.”

“I rushed over once your mother called me. Needless to say, I am very disappointed in you.”

My blurry vision cleared to find a man who looked a bit older than the last time I’d seen him. Lines now bordered his lips and around the corners of his eyes…Wait a minute. Those new lines and wrinkles weren’t from old age—they were from happiness. Laugh lines, smile lines…Dad was happy. I didn’t know whether to feel angry, betrayed, or even jealous.

“Surprised you cared,” I muttered, tempted to lay back down to warm myself. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Dad took a deep breath and bent forward, grabbing onto my arm. “Let’s warm you up. You’re freezing cold.”