The Runaway

Chapter Six

"Whatcha got there?" the voice asked. I giggled and turned around seeing Kurt standing there with a saddened Rachel.

"I got my letter from NYAGD," I replied. Kurt smiled.

"New York Arts and Graphic Design?" he asked. I nodded quickly and smiled.

"That's great, Joey, you can live with us!" he exclaimed. I laughed lightly and smiled at the offering. I ripped open the letter and looked at the font, reading carefully.

Dear Joey Tighe Thatcher,

We really appreciate your entry for NYAGD, so we're quite happy to say that you've been accepted and given a scholarship by a secret donor.

The letter went on, but I dropped it from excitement. I got in. I really got in! My excitement got the better of me, so when I started skipping down the hallway, people started to get concerned. Just as I was skipping out of the school, acceptance letter in hand, I saw someone waiting there for me.

"Mom..." I murmured. My mom works all around the world, designing clothes, designing in general. It's where I get all my talent from. I skipped up next to her and showed her the acceptance letter. For the first time since I was ten, my mom genuinely smiled.

"Sweetie, this is great! And with the grades you'll get when I switch your schools, it'll be even better!" my mom exclaimed. It was like my whole world shut down, everything just stopped. Switch schools?

"M-Mom? What about switching schools?" I asked. Moms smile broadened.

"You've been enrolled as the first girl in Dalton Academy!" she exclaimed. No. No. No. No. No!

"Mom, no. I can't, I won't. I belong here, not there! Every guy there, they're all gonna treat me like some slut! I don't want to become that!" I exclaimed. Then my mom actually took in the situation at hand.

"Oh... Oh! Dear goodness, Joey. I'm sorry, that was inexcusable of me, why don't we have a little one on one drawing session at the studio?" Mom asked. I smiled and nodded, going home with my mom.

My house isn't all that luxurious, its cozy. No guys here at all. Yes, my mom did remarry, but she divorced on the six month, saying that he couldn't live with us because he wears socks to bed. It's weird. I've tried it before, but it made me super uncomfortable. Anyways, when we got home, I got a text message.

You doing anything - Sebastian

Yeah, going to my art studio with my mom that I haven't seen in two months - Joey

Oh, mind if I come over? - Sebastian

Wtf? When did you think we were even close to acquaintances? - Joey

Nevermind - Sebastian

I didn't care if I hurt his feelings; he hurt my friend's eye. I ran up to my room and put my traditional art outfit on. It was a simple cameo and some basketball shorts. I grabbed my pencils and brushes and ran downstairs where mom was waiting for me.

The studio we go to is where we teach people to draw. Though, we had it closed for today. It was only a little ways away from where my stepdad worked. My stepdad owned a pub. I work there as well, but it's not the same as for when I'm drawing. In fact, after this, I probably had to go over for my shift.

Once we made it to the studio, I picked up a drawing pad and set it down in front of me. I sat down and pulled out a couple value pencils. Letting my hand roam free, I sang and drew. Here's the cool thing. I can draw my work without even paying attention. It's like multi-tasking, but totally awesome.

My mind traced back to a song my dad used to sing to me before he... I started off mumbling, but then I was slowly singing the song louder.

"I walked across, an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand. I felt the Earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river and it made me complete. Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.

"So tell me when you're gonna let me in. I'm getting tired and need somewhere to begin. I came across a fallen tree. I felt the branches of it looking at me. Is this the place, we used to love? Is this the place I've been dreaming of?

"Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go... Somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know...

"Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on, so tell me when your gonna let me in. I'm getting tired and I need someone to begin. And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know..." I ended a single tear straying off and hitting the table. My mom came out of her lab and, I'm guessing, heard everything. She wrapped her arms around me as I cried into her shoulder.

"It's okay, honey. It's okay," she mumbled. I sobbed and sobbed, my heart hurting from everything. I was in one screwed up, crazy life and I made it this way. I miss my dad; I miss the family we used to have.

"Honey, go clean up, I think Bennett is waiting for you at the pub for your shift," I sniffled and nodded my head, getting up and walked towards the closet that held my work clothes. I pulled the flannel button-up over my cameo and changed out of my basketball shorts and into jeans with combat boots.

I jogged out of the studio and ran down to the pub, which was only two or so blocks away. Today must've been dweeb rush hour because I caught a bunch of Blazer's in a booth. I tied my hair up in a ponytail and checked in with my stepdad. I went straight to the bar and began my shift. I may be an artist, but when it comes to professional alcohol mixing, I'd like to say I'm good at it.

It's fun when swinging the bottles around and making a show. No, not fun, amazing. My eyes were a little red from crying, but it was fine. Casey, a co-worker, said she'll take the bar and I'll go out and booth work. I hopped out from behind the booth and grabbed the notepad to walk around. Someone called me over, and without looking, I made my way over to the sound.

"Welcome to The Dub Pub, may I take your order and make your dreams of becoming wasted come true?" I muttered, my voice croaky from crying.

"Uh, yeah, I'd like a Sex on The Beach," the voice said cockily. A bunch of boys laughed. My left eye twitched and I looked up, placed my hands on my hips, and glared.

"I don't have time for your shit, Knock-Off Dildo," I sassed.

"And I came here to enjoy a lovely Sex on The Beach, Thatcher," Sebastian smirked.

"Aren't you, like, seventeen?" I retorted. He rolled his eyes. "In fact, how did you even get in here, it's twenty-one and up, not prissy little bitches like you," I added.

"Whatever, sweetie, I'm going to go now," he said. That stupid smirk made me want to burn his face.