Dandelion

<<>16<>>

Emery's car bumped out of the hookah bar parking lot. I sat there for a minute, stunned. I have a girlfriend now. When's the last time I had one, sixth grade?

I watched her tail lights move down the deserted road.

Should I follow her to make sure she gets home okay? A good boyfriend would do that right? I thought to myself.

I debated with myself to call Lauren and ask her, but then decided against that horrible idea.

I'll just ride far behind her to make sure she makes it, then I'll go home. It is kind of late for her to be out and alone.

I quickly caught up to her old vehicle, but I kept an undetectable distance.

She turned down several roads I have never ventured down before. I soon realized that I didn't recognize this area because she was headed to the "poorer" side of town.

I have never really gotten any information on her family or home. What she told my parents is the only thing she's said about them.

Maybe I don't really know her as well as I thought.

She finally turned into a circular street packed with trailors, reminding me of a camp ground we used to go to when I was younger.

What is she doing here? I wondered.

Several of the trailors were in desperate need of a paint job. The street was littered with trash bags and old stuff in boxes.

A tan pit bull chased after my car barking for awhile before turning back towards its territory.

Emery stopped in front of a pale blue trailor and jumped out to check the mailbox.

Geez, get back in the car before you get murdered. I silently scolded her.

She continued up the dirt driveway, parking her car. I turned off my lights and stopped across the street.

I cut the engine and watched her through the open window. She got out of her car, mail in hand, and walked up the stairs onto the front porch.

A rough looking woman lay in a swing on the porch smoking a cigarette. Her bony arm hung over the edge of the swing with a beer in its hand.

"Where've you been?" The woman's voice cracked. Obviously she has been smoking for a while.

Who is that?

"I was with a friend." Emery answered, fanning the smoke from her face.

"Were you out whoring around again?" The woman screeched.

I listened closely for Emery's answer. "No, mom."

Mom?!

Emery folded her arms across her chest, hanging her head in shame.

I desperately wanted to go give her a hug, but then she would know I'm a creepy stalker.

"Can I please just go inside?" Emery asked. Her voice seemed a little shaky. Is she afraid of her mom?

"I reckon you can." The woman said, chugging the rest of her beer and tossing it into the grass.

They both entered into the rusty trailor with a slam of the screen door.

I sat quietly listening for a few extra minutes to make sure everything was okay. The only sounds I could hear were barking dogs and music playing in the distance. Hopefully she got settled in okay.

On the way home, I replayed our dinner conversation over in my head. She said she had a stay at home mom. That woman didn't look like the type to have a job, so I guess she didn't lie.