CECE, DISRESPECTFULLY | ✓

70: MOTH

            Oak Shaw Group Home for Teens looks like it were dropped onto a field by a tornado a few decades ago. Aside from the kennels some distance away, the house stands in the middle of nothingness.

Not an easy place to run away from. Do they even have buses down here? Where's the closest shop?

I want back to the city. This were definitely my worst idea to date.

But as we get closer, I make out the Christmas stars and snowflakes still twinkling behind every window. It's February but they beckon us to their glow. A cat watches us from the kitchen sill.

Several bicycles stand near the door. One has fallen over. There better be some other method of transport out here cause I can't cycle and I'm not about to start.

'Welcome,' Bobbi says when she parks. 'I'll give you a moment then show yeh around.'

Two adults converse at the open doors to a grimy van. One has Bobbi's ginger afro and freckled face, the other is older, with pale skin and a greying beard, wearing what looks like five flannel shirts over each other but no jacket.

The back of the van is reimbursed with an additional chain-link barrier. Summat moves behind it.

'Looks like you won't be the only fresher.'

Bobbi tosses me a smile and is out of the car before I can answer. The people stop their conversation and they all greet each other in their weird West Country manner.

Through the windscreen, I watch Bobbi step up to the barrier. Flash of teeth. The animal inside growls. It's a dog. A doberman, I think.

'She's a beaut, Arthur.'

Arthur, I assume, tucks their hands into the pockets of their denim overalls. 'Got a call bout her running round the motorway out east. Erin's Joanna tried to catch her but it didn't go over well—she's a biter.'

I text Nikki that I've arrived, snapping a picture of the house to send as proof. I climb out of the car and my Vans sink into mud so deep that only the top lines of the T and 5 are visible on the TOO HIGH 5 SCHOOL writing on the midsoles.

Just mega, innit.

I ease the car door shut behind me and trudge across the garden to the van. Not sure why. The doberman's black eyes fixate on me as I approach. She steps back but don't bare her teeth again.

Though I feel Bobbi watching and know that it's an idiotic idea, I press my hand flat against the barrier. The dog growls.

But then, hesitantly, sinking one step back for every two she dares forward, she sniffs my hand. Her nose tickles my palm and a giggle bubbles out of me. It must ease her because she lets me poke (pain) my fingers through the netting without ripping them off.

'You're not that scary, are ya?'

I scratch her above her nose since it's all I can reach with the chain link between us.

'Just a bit scared? Yeah, me too.'

I glance at the house and the plains that embrace us from all directions. Twilight kisses the snow cottoned over grass with shades of violet I've never quite seen before. The Christmas lights marry the lavenders with oranges. My fingers itch to paint summat with this new palette.

The moth in my chest flutters and I square my shoulders.

I'm going to keep Nikki's orchid alive. I'm going to learn to tell him that I love him with words. And I won't let my friendship with Diwa become another victim of distance. I'll text her even if I only have mundane things to say, and she'll be the first to know when I discover new music I like. And I'll text Nikki, pictures of all the bugs and plants I find around here.