"Who are you?" I demand.
The boy in front of me replies, "That's not how this works, love."
I freeze.
That phrase.
That voice.
It can't be.
I look up but he's just a cloaked silhouette. The rustling stops when boys surrounding us step from their h...
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Sunday
I'm skating the streets of Croydon, London. The day isn't hot but I began sweating hours ago. The few people on the sidewalk move out of my way when they see me coming. It's 2pm. I'm meant to be in school in this moment but haven't gone in days. Instead, I spent the week leaving home at 6am and skating through downtown to a park at the end of the city. Beyond the skyscrapers and passed all the smog, there are trees. Beautiful, tall, green trees. A forest I would assume. I've never been brave enough to venture into it, but there is a special tree that I climb. At the beginning of the forest there's a tall, thick, twisted tree, my tree. It's the first tree, of the first row that starts the seemingly never ending forest.
Hours on hours I spend skating away my troubles through the city, growing hungry. I work my way through the people and streets until stopping at a small cafe. I wait for the small family walking towards the cafe and slip in behind them, sounding the tiny bell above the door. I stand by the trash bins while they order their food and I wait for them to walk over by the fountain drinks. When they crowd the machine, I join them. Ducking and filling a cup then crouching away with it. I choose a booth in the back and sit alone, resting my board next to me. I play with a straw wrapper in my fingers. The door opens, the tiny bell rings. In walks a group of girls, all of whom I recognize and instantly sink lower in my seat. The girls take seats in another booth across the room. One of the girls meets my gaze. She spots me and smiles. I cringe when she stands up.
Shit. I think to myself, grabbing my board.
I stand up attempting to dodge her. She leaves her friends behind and hurries over to me trying to cut me off. Her friends notice she's going to approach me and stare at me, eyes full of caution. I hurry faster than she can and make it to the door but she calls my name. For a reason unknown my feet stop walking and turn to face her.
"Oh, gracious, Jane! It's been so long!" She squeaks throwing bones for arms around me.
I flinch and stand still waiting for her to be done touching me.
"Where have you been? It's been so long. Are you coming back to collage finally? Its been so lonely without you here, Jane. And you have no idea, revision is next week, and, oh my god, you didn't hear about Professor Jacobs being fired, did you? Apparently, he'd been making passes at students, which, by the way, Mary, you remember Mary, swears he came at her but we all know she'll say anything to get attention. But she did come out with an A in his class s-"
"Nice to see you to, Marissa," I cut off her annoying babbling with a lie.
"Oh, Jane. It's been so long," she pauses, both of us glancing at her friends who look away, "When, uh...when did you get out?" she asks timidly.
"Six months ago,"
Six months next week. I say in my head.
She shifts awkwardly at the topic, "How was the, uh, the-"
