Free

Chapter 2

"What're you doing?", I ask, a little too rudely.

"Apologizing," he said, with a little hurt in his voice.

  I pushed past him and hurried down my driveway, and waited for Vada's little yellow volkswagen beetle. I heard his footsteps on the pavement jogging after me. I came to a stop about a foot from where the driveway and street meet.

   He turned, face me, and said, "I thought you liked me? what the hell Gretchen?"

  "Alright, so are we ignoring the fact that you and Becca have kinda been a thing for the past six months, or what?"

"I like you, Gretchen, not Becca."

"I hope you don't expect me to believe that. You had so many opportunites to tell me, yet you just go with the first girl you see."

"One date."

                                                                                 ***

  And that is how me and Vada ended up at Trippy's Tacos  (How romantic). She sat a few tables away from us. The only reason we came to Trippy's Tacos is because Harley had work in an hour. He offered me some tacos, he bought 12 of them. So, I had one, and another, and another, and another, until I had seven of them, then Harley made a comment about how he likes girls with big appetites, who eat more than just lettuce and starve themselves. I felt like I was going to explode, I excused myself, got up, and went to the bathroom. It took about 20 minutes to get everything up and out of me. I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and splashed some water on my face, then walked back over to where Harley was at the trash, throwing our garbage away.

"Oh hey, You okay?", he aked.

"Yeah I'm fine, just had to fix my hair."

He looked at my hair, which I did nothing to, and shook his head, smiling.

"I had a lot of fun. Can I see you tomorrow?", he asked.

"Maybe, probably."

                                                                                 ***

  Vada and I went to the movies, and saw some cheesey romance comedy, then she drove me back to my house.

"Good seeing ya Gretch."

"You, too, Vada."

  Once I got inside of my house, I checked the living room, dining room, kitchen, and my dad's study to which my dad was nowhere. So, I walked upstairs and opened my bedroom door, where my dad was. I focused my eyes, which had started to blur, to see my dad had found my scale, food journals, diet pills, and bags I had thrown up in, because the bathroom was being preoccupied the time I needed it.

     "Dad," I started, but he shook his head.

                                                                                ***