The Matthews were known as nice, quirky, and just plain perfect. But even they have their secrets, and their biggest one is me.
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Hi! I'm Delilah Matthews. The "troubled child," the "bad girl," the Matthews' darkest secret. Every "bad...
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"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!" Cory shouted as I ran through the apartment. "DON'T RUIN THIS DAY FOR YOUR FATHER!" Topanga yelled after him. I locked the door and they banged on it. "Come on Delilah, it's game night!" Cory shouted. "Fuck off!" I yelled as I started getting changed to get out. "DAHLIA!" Topanga yelled. I looked out the window at the thick snow that littered the fire escape and the city. Maybe game night wouldn't be the worst thing. I rolled my eyes and slipped into my warmest coat.
Cory and Topanga have been getting weirder since Christmas. Last week they hired a guy to rig my window so it didn't open all the way. I could still sneak out of it, but it definitely was more inconvenient. Two days ago they stopped feeding me breakfast. They said that if I wasn't going to live by their rules then I couldn't eat their food. The only problem with that is I have no clue what rules they're referring to.
I pushed open the window. "DON'T YOU OPEN THAT WINDOW!" Topanga yelled. I laughed as flung my leg over the side and hopped out of the window. When I got out I ran to the subway, leaving the window open. Let's just hope snow doesn't get into my room. Today was the oh so dreaded, day of torture known as family game night. On the 14th of every month, Cory would take out his favorite game, 'the family game' for every family member minus me and plus Maya to play. It's my least favorite time of every month. That's why I make it my mission to always show up late to these games, just in time to sneak one of the chocolate chip cookies Topanga always makes.
•••
For five hours I've been stalking the streets of Greenwich, New York. I walked past NYU, I walked past all the jazz clubs and gay bars, I even managed to walk past the homeless man peeing on the sidewalk, but I couldn't walk past Ginger's Ice Cream Shop. "Delilah Rose Matthews!" Ginger shouted. I groaned as I spun on my heel to greet her. "Heyyy Ginger," I said, my voice rising in octaves. "It is 25 degrees and 11 pm, what the fuck are you doing out here?!" She shouted.
I wanted to lie, but I knew better. Nothing got past Ginger. "I kinda... ran away from home," I explained. "Great idea, and may I ask what your plan was?" She asked. "I was just going to walk-not far- just... maybe to Harlem," I explained. "Oh just a small walk to Harlem, no biggie," she mocked, "get your ass inside." I rolled my eyes, but still followed her order. Better than the alternative.
Ginger set me up with cookies and a hot chocolate with sprinkles before giving me the old mom eyes. Ironically, I've never once received such a look from Topanga. She only ever sent me looks of anger, annoyance, and sometimes slight amusement. "I wasn't running away, I barely live there in the first place," I told her. "It is below freezing right now and you barely have on a proper coat, whatever you're doing, you're not doing it well," she told me. I looked down at my hot chocolate. "Hurry up and finish that so we can go home," she sighed. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Yea, I said we, someone needs to keep a good eye on you and it sure isn't Cory and Topanga," she scoffed. I smiled as I finished my drink.
•••
"Call your parents, tell them you're staying here," Ginger ordered once we got to her apartment. "My phone died," I muttered. "What, not charger?" She asked, "imbecile." I rolled my eyes, "It's not like this was pre planned," I defended. "Obviously," she scoffed, "did you bring a change of clothes?" She asked. I shook my head. "School bag?" She asked again. I shook my head again. "Money?" She asked. "Yes," I answered. "Pocket change doesn't count," she said. "No," I frowned. "Delilah," she groaned, "you are lucky you have me."
Ginger ruffled through drawers and pulled out the shirt I lost last year. "I don't know how you left it last month, I put it in your bag," Ginger shrugged. "I forgot it was mine," I answered. She sighed, "Well at least now it'll get worn, you can leave the other shirt here since we both know you'll come back and just make it a cycle," she explained. I thanked her profusely, especially after she did my laundry when I was in the shower.
The next day, Ginger walked me home to get my school bag and a "proper coat" before escorting me to school. "Next time you make a late night escape, bring your school bag," she told me. "I will, thanks Ginger," I said giving her a kiss before walking into the building for another boring day in Cory's class.
