Perspective is a funny thing;
Stirling Thomas, those two words alone were enough to have anyone running in the opposite direction and cowering in fear.
The town has heard all of the rumours, they know he has just been released from prison and they...
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"That boy."
The disapproval and hatred was practically dripping from his words like thick indigestible grease.
I didn't need to join him at the window to know which boy he was referring to, besides, I could see the harsh blue and red lights flickering up the walls and spreading throughout my kitchen.
"Are you sure I can't convince you to drop out of college, quit your job and come to Montana with me?"
I stood up, adding the finished bowl of cereal to the sink and glanced over his shoulder at the unsightly display outside.
Stirling Thomas was yet again slammed up against the body of a police car, his wrists adorned with sturdy cuffs.
I tapped my hand against the flannel fibre of my dad's shoulder, "responsible parenting you've got going on there."
His hazel eyes looked back at me with warmth and worry. I always thought Stirling to be quite shy-natured. We didn't cross paths much but whenever we did, he was always nice to me.
"I think I'll survive a few months around my best friend's brother."
My dad set his focus back out the window, all the concern in the world etched onto his face.
