One Last Prayer

Part 12

I turn the key slowly, as if I'm sneaking in and need to be quiet. His car is gone but the fact that I'm coming into my own house and feel like I'm sneaking around is so foreign to me. I push the door open and step inside looking around. Walking straight to the living room where I would usually either find my dad or a note from him by his old leather recliner. Instead of a note I see a small empty bottle knocked over. I frown and walk over to see what it is. Picking up the bottle I flip it over in my hands. Bushmills. My father has never drank a day in his life. I frown as I study it and imagine where my dad's head must have been last night when I didn't come home or call. I toss the bottle back to it's home and walk to my room.

I'm not in my room long. I have a duffel bag that I used to take on my summer trips to the church camp I was always so fond of and I'm shoving everything I can fit in it. The first things I see are my new clothes that I haven't put away yet, then I grab my essentials from my closet because I don't know if my dad plans to forgive me and I just need to be prepared for the worst. I stuff my bag until I can't anymore and pull it onto my shoulder before grabbing my books for school. I walk to the bedroom door and look back at the room I've spent my entire life in. I turn around and walk out without taking another peak.

Stepping onto the porch I fake a smile at Chase as he grabs the duffel from me. "I said I could do it."

"Yeah and I let you."

I start walking back across the street hoping that no other neighbors can see what's going on. "Thanks. I'll be out of your house soon, okay?"

He shakes his head without looking at me. "You don't have to rush. I'm sure your dad will realize he was over reacting. He's probably already thinking about how bad he messed up."

I let myself into his house and stop right inside. "He isn't the one that messed up." I look up at Chase as he closes and locks the front door. When he looks down at me our eyes connect and I try my hardest to read what's behind his.

"Do you think that you messed up?"

I shrug without answering.

"Are you sorry?" He's talking quietly now.

I break away from his gaze before I can feel the stinging at my eyes again. "I'm not. I may have done something I shouldn't have, but he completely over reacted." I look back at him as he starts walking down the hall. I rush to follow him, his long legs setting a fast pace. "I mean I've been nothing but obedient my entire life and he called me a whore for merely catching a ride home with you!"

Chase throws my duffel bag onto his bed and runs his hands through his unruly hair. "You weren't going to go home."

"He didn't know that." I say defensively. "Wait. Are you agreeing? Are you saying I'm a whore?"

"Jesus, Riley, no!" He takes my books from me and I feel my heart start to pound.

"You didn't say he was wrong." I can't help from raising my voice a little.

"I didn't need to. You know who you are and what your intentions are." He's looking through his closet moving through his hangers.

"Sometimes clarification is nice." Is all I say.

He sighs dramatically and pulls out a shirt before walking to his dresser and pulling out a pair of boxers. "Riley go take a Xanax or something."

"What the fuck, Chase!?"

He snaps his head to the side to look at me as he's leaving the room. I see his lip twitch and I can tell he's trying not to smile.

"I know. I think it felt as stupid as it sounded, coming from my mouth." My voice is shaky now and I'm not sure if it's the way he's looking at me or the adrenaline I feel from yelling at someone.