Nathan Kingston has been forgotten by the world. A dad that fucked off when he was young and a mother gone days at a time with work he feels alone. Especially since he goes to the most elite private school in the city on scholarship. He's falling do...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ivy Matthews
After my completely rash departure from the lunch room, I run out of the building as fast as I can, not stopping until I get to the pizza place on the other end of the block. As the tears start quietly falling down my cheeks I dial my mom's phone number and listen to it ring anxiously, waiting for her to pick up.
"Are you ok, sweetheart? It's the middle of the day." My mom picks up, already seemingly slightly panicked because I rarely call her during the school day.
"Can you come to get me, Mom? I really need to go home." The shaky tone of my voice reveals my emotions and her panic becomes full-blown.
"What happened? Where are you? I can be there in 15 minutes."
"I'm not in danger or anything," I can hear her audibly let out a breath on the other side of the line, "I'll talk about it when we get home and I'm at the pizza place by school."
"Ok, I'll get there as fast as I can, hang tight."
The dial tone rings out and I immediately shut my phone off so I can't get any notifications and wait anxiously on the curb for my mom to pull up.
The twelve minutes without my phone that it takes for my mom to come get me causes a lot of questions to swirl through my head.
Was it wrong to call him a gold digger? To break up with him over something like that? Should I have stayed and continued that conversation to see where it would go instead of running?
All the questions momentarily leave my mind when my mom's gray SUV pulls up to the curb and I break into a fresh bout of tears, just wanting a hug from my mom to tell me everything is going to be fine.
"Oh, sweetheart," she says when she sees me, "hop in, let's get you home and get some cinnamon buns in the oven."
I don't have to be told twice, hauling my teary behind into the passenger's side and reaching across the console to get a quick hug in before people start honking at her to move. The ride back to our house is void of words the only noises pinging throughout the car being from outside or from the meaningless talk-show chatter coming from the radio.
We pull up outside our house and she parks, slinging my backpack over her shoulder as she walks up the stairs to the front door. I trail behind her, my arms wrapped around my midsection and my cheeks stained with tears and dried mascara.
"Why don't you go upstairs and wash your face, change into some pajamas and I'll get some cinnamon buns in the oven and then, if you want to talk, we can talk." Her comforting voice says as she gives me a little side hug before opening the front door.
"Ok." I say in a small voice, the teariness still seeping through my speech.
She walks inside and I follow her, toeing off my shoes and rushing upstairs as fast as I can. Another bout of tears hits me as my bedroom door closes behind me and I sink to the floor, my back pressed against the door. The tears keep falling but I try my best to keep the sobs silent so I can have some time to myself to try and pull myself together for at least a moment.
