Sheridan Wolfe

Chapter 03 : Treehouse Hide-Out

LOCATION: @WOLFE HOME

Moon: YOUNG

Levi - The sun sits high in the afternoon sky. I watch Ity, her earbuds securely in her ears so that nothing can bother her. She pulls today's red hood over her slick brown hair. It's a thin hoodie, but definitely a pull over, the one with the big pocket across the front.

From down the hallway I follow her, as she goes through her after school routine.

She hoists her beige backpack onto her shoulder, then sinks her fists deep into her pockets. She navigates flawlessly through the hall of hyper students, her footsteps so light I wonder if any of the echoing squeaks come from her sneakers. After a few sharp turns I follow her out into the sharp piercing afternoon sunlight.

She flinches at the brightness of the sun, but instead of shying away from it she pauses, allowing it to rest on her face before sliding a thick pair of oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.

She trails along the grass, across the road and out into the gravel parking lot. I stay as far back as I can without losing her, just out of sight until she reaches the road.

It's a fact that no one pays as much attention to Ity as I do. Yes, I realize how creepy that makes me sound. But I do find it odd that no matter who I ask, no one can tell me how she gets home after school. Not even Rhydian takes her home. She can ride with anyone, the whole school loves her. She can even take one of the crowded buses, but no one has seen her do it. Regardless of that fact, on the days I have followed her, this is where she goes but I've never seen her beyond this point.

A safe distance back, I shuffle my feet to a stop. Senior cars pass by her and still she remains unfazed. I blink. It's a normal blink, but when I open my eyes she's peering over her sunglasses directly at me. Her gaze holds a gentle wonder and her soft smile, though a bit hollow, pulls across her face as she gracefully walks toward me. She crosses the gravel parking lot closing in the distance between us.

Now standing in front of me, Ity waves a simple hello before making a pleading hand motion. It's a sign I haven't quite learned in my brief study of sign language, but I felt I could guess what she was trying to say.

"You need a ride?" My voice cracks.

She nods, her one hand touching her chin and moving out in a light hearted thank you.

"Yes," I nod before shame floods over me. My car is not in this parking lot. in fact, Wendy is no where near our current vicinity. Beads of sweat form on across my hairline and I swallow back the largest lump of pride in my chest.

Maybe Ity won't notice, I lie to myself and motion for her to follow.

Mr. Watson is a huge fan of old cars, and he claims it was fun for him to work on Wendy. But it is a flat out miracle how he saved her. Like, a better than Christmas, miracle and I paid for the free labor by purchasing a brand new set of all weather tires, totally worth it. Because there she sits, in her parking spot, with all her red rusted glory.

The passenger door creaks as I pull it open, and gesture for Ity to climb inside. She doesn't shrink back at the site of my unkempt interior. The seat even moans welcoming its new occupant.

I slam the door and take a deep breath to calm my shaking. Rounding the car I repeat a silent prayer, "Please work. Please work. Please work."

The drivers side door groans much less than the passenger side did. Which may, or may not, have something to do with the passenger door taking the brunt of the accident.

I bounce into the drivers seat before sliding the key into the ignition. My prayer continues, as I twist the key and listen to the taxing sound of the engine turning over.