On the Run

Acceptance

You drove in silence, steely eyes on the road. It was dark except for the street lights lighting your path. Low music thumped through the speakers, lyrics too quiet to follow along. The children were asleep in the back seat, their soft snores soothing you. In the passenger seat, Maya sat pensively, watching you. The sleek car approached the house, and Maya noticed how quickly you tensed.

"Babe," Maya started as the car pulled into the driveway. Her voice was soft, placating. You rolled your eyes, already knowing what she would say. "You need to let go."

You scoff, turning off the ignition. "Or what?"

"It's childish."

"I'm not gonna be the bigger person."

"You should be."

"I won't."

"You can't be mad forever."

"Watch me."

Maya huffed, crossing her arms. "Why are you still so mad about this? They've apologized. They're trying to make up for it. You're just being petty now."

"You know damn well why I'm being petty."

"I don't."

"It hurt, Maya. It hurt a lot. As it is, I do so much for them. You'd think they'd trusted me enough. They're criminals for goodness sake! I could lose my job, my kids, my future! And all for what? A fucking favor?"

She huffs at you. It's the same argument every time. 'They should trust me' 'I haven't done anything wrong'. She's tired of the same argument, the same excuse.

It didn't matter anymore. You needed to get over it and keep pushing on with life.

Maya didn't get why it's been upsetting you for so long. You're not one to hold grudges this long. It's been weeks. Weeks of tension, hushed whispers, or plain silence. Dodging the others, a practically impossible task accomplished by you, at almost every turn. You didn't eat in the same room, didn't watch TV in the same room, could barely even stand looking at them in your living room.

It was so exhausting to watch.

Maya wondered if you were tired of being angry, or at least exhausted from all of the dodging.

She voiced her sentiment.

"Aren't you tired?" she asked, exasperation in her voice.

You raised a brow. "Not really."

She can't tell if that's a lie, wishing she had your quirk right now.

Maya rolled her eyes. "I know I am. This shit is getting out of hand, and frankly, I'm over your pissy party."

You glare at her. "Yeah, well you can feel whatever you want, truthfully. It's got nothing to do with me. Besides, no one asked you."

"Unfortunately, I have to sit around and watch you passive-aggressively tell everyone to fuck off."

"And I think you should. Like I said, no one asked you."

Maya slammed her fist on the dashboard. "I don't care who asked or didn't! What I do care about is you, and all those people in the house."

"Here's what the fuck we aren't going to do," you say through gritted teeth. "Never slam any surface of my car, or house, again. Then, we're going to remind ourselves that I have three kids in my backseat, and if one so much as shuffles, I will kick you out."

You open the door, effectively cutting the conversation and her apology short. You don't slam the door shut, though Maya feels your urge to do so.

You get the kids out one by one, declining Maya's help.