Relocating

Hunted Down

Aria and I scatter newspapers across the floor. I was going to find a new apartment that I could afford tonight. We checked out a few, but didn't find one I loved that I could afford. That's the price of loving your job. You usually don't get paid as much as you'd like. Although, Ashton seems to.

No. Stop it Rachel. Forget Ashton. Forget how he is, how fun he is, his surprises, the apartment, the picture, that laugh, how his eyes light up, his bear hugs, his big smile, the comfort...I get misty eyed at the thought of him.

"Rachel?" Aria breaks me out of my zone.

"Yeah?" I say and my voice shakes a bit.

"What happened?"

"I just need some air." I mumble and walk out.

I start to jog. That's what I've been doing since last week when we broke apart. It gets me thinking. It still makes me happy. It calms me down. I turn onto a new street and continue to jog. I'm beginning to feel better. I know no one here. It's a good feeling.

I turn another corner and find myself in front of a street full of small business shops. I'm in heaven. I walk into an art shop. There are so many pretty paintings on the walls. I loved the ones that people had used photos and blown them up onto canvas. It reminds me of...no....I shouldn't think. I turn and my jaw drops. Our picture is on the wall. I freeze and my face heats up. I go up to the woman at the counter.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Is that picture for sale?" I ask.

"No, but it's lovely isn't it? My friend's son made it! He asked me to hold onto it while he stays with his mom for a bit.. He wanted me to take care of it. He said he didn't want anything to happen to it in case the girl came back."

"Oh."

"Yeah. You look a lot like her, ya know?"

"Thanks."

"You are her, aren't you."

"Yeah." I say and laugh nervously.

"What happened?"

"We had a fall out a week ago when he wanted to make me leave my friends and quit my job for two months."

"Ashton doesn't think straight sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. I told him I couldn't leave. I said maybe I should find my own place."

"What did he say?"

"He told me I should and walked out."

"Well, he came in here teary eyed and he was upset."

"At me?"

"No. He said he was mad at himself."