Nobody Likes Megan McGowen

1. Run Away

Megan stood at the bus station, staring at the schedule. She was trying to figure out how far she could get on $6.42. It was past eight, and she should have been home hours ago, but she didn't care. Tonight she was running away.

Megan had told her mom she'd be late – she was trying out for the drama club. But it hadn't gone the way she'd planned. She forgot her lines, was way too quiet, and when the agonizing three-minute speech was finally over, she nearly tripped getting off the stage. It was so embarrassing! And it wasn't just the snickers as she left the auditorium that had brought her to the bus stop this evening. It was the fact that she never managed to do anything right. She was always late, she could barely pass half her classes, and she never even got to sit at an actual table at lunch. She felt like she was doing everything she could just to stay in the middle of the pack.

Megan sighed to herself. Actually, trying out for the drama club had been a real step for her – it was supposed to be her big chance! She was going to be in a club and have things to do after school for once. But she blew it. Again. It wasn't that she didn't like hanging out with Jen – Jen was her best friend. It was just that Jen was kind of a dork, just like Megan herself was.

She waited impatiently for the next bus. It wasn't exactly late, but the place was pretty deserted. Maybe she should have gone down to the bus depot instead. The next bus didn't even come to this stop for another forty minutes. Megan sighed dejectedly, wondering how it was even possible that she didn't have a car yet. She'd been convinced that the instant she turned sixteen, she'd be driving everywhere she could. But just like everything else, it hadn't worked out the way she'd expected. Her parents couldn't afford to just give her a car, and she didn't have the money to buy one herself. If she did, she wouldn't have had to scrape together couch-cushion money to ride the bus out of town.

It wasn't that Megan wanted to run away exactly; she was just tired of being a loser. She wanted to be liked by people, to have more than one friend. Was that too much to ask for? Last year had been bad enough, but she'd promised herself that junior year would be different. So far, it was the worst year she'd had in high school. No one talked to her except Jen, and the two never even got a decent spot in the cafeteria. Which, of course, meant that even lunch was a constant reminder of her loser status at school. There weren't enough tables for everyone, so people either ate outside or on the floor. Mostly, it was freshmen who couldn't manage to snag tables. And her and Jen, of course. Even if they did manage to get one, someone bigger, stronger, more popular always managed to kick them out. She was sick of it. She lifted her head up, staring down the street into the darkness. Where was the bus that would take her away from her horrible life?

A car drove by, nearly splashing water all over her; she only just managed to pick her feet up in time. At least she managed to do that right, she thought glumly to herself. It was bad enough that she had to run away – she didn't want to spend hours on the bus soaking wet. As the car sped away, something clattered to the curb. It looked like some sort of old bottle. Curious, Megan walked the few steps over to inspect it. She still had over half an hour to kill, and it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

The bottle was actually kind of interesting; it was one of those old-fashioned things that bulged out at the bottom and tapered off into a narrow neck at the top. The lip was ringed in what was probably gold paint, and the same gold color twisted down the sides of the neck before crisscrossing the bottom part. An old cork was stuffed into the top, looking completely out of place on such an ornate bottle.

She thought for a minute about tossing it back in the gutter. After all, how many times had her mom told her not to pick up trash? Megan sighed; she wasn't going to have to worry about listening to her mom anymore. Besides, it was a pretty nice-looking bottle. Megan wasn't sure she'd really have a use for it out on her own, but she never knew. Maybe she would just keep it as a reminder of the last thing she ever got before she ran away. Yeah, she nodded decisively to herself; that sounded good to her.