Home (sequel to Guardian Angel) . l.h . Luke Hemmings .

Chapter Seven: Choice Made

"Luke wasn't the turn that way?" Cayden leaned over seat, the sign for our destined exit become more and more distant. She seated herself back down, twisting her hair in a worried manner.

"It was." I confirmed, not really knowing where we were going, but not really caring at the same time. The dripping disappointment of my father was all I could hear; but although my mind was ordering me to return back, my heart was leading me the opposite way.

I truly had no idea where I was going or what I was doing but I just knew something was waiting for us. I just could not place my finger on exactly what.

The risk I was taking was undoubtedly high: my parents would never let me out of their eyesight again, my friends were probably undeniably angry with me, and the van could absolutely break down in the middle of no where.

But all of that didn't seem to matter, even though the idea of the adventure was probably stained with last night's drunken mind. I never in my life imagined that I would ever do this. That I would take off and rebel against everything that has been instilled in me. I don't know what really came over to this sudden change but I didn't mind it.

"Lu-Luke where are you taking me?" Her voice squeaked at the end, "Are you kidnapping me?"

For a brief second, I glanced at her to see that she was truly afraid that I was stealing her. "No, Cayden I'm not going to kidnap you and murder you if that's what you're thinking. I just thought we take a little detour." I tried my best to explain my irrationalness but she didn't seem to buy anything.

"What do you mean detour? At this rate we are going all the way to Oregon!" She pointed to another sign that signaled Oregon was in the next couple of hundred miles.

When I didn't answer, she spoke up, "Luke, seriously what are you doing?"

I was about to speak but then paused, collecting my thoughts.

"I have no idea."

"You don't?" She asked clearly baffled, "Then turn around and go back home!"

"That's just it." I said while turning on my signal, transitioning to the next lane.

"What's it?" She questioned, her left knee visibly shaking.

"How much do you remember of last night?" I asked. I know I didn't remember every detail but one memory popped up as clear as day to me every time.

"Not much." She sheepishly admitted to me, "Why? Did I say something that I should be embarrassed about?"

"No." I immediately told her, "It's just...well it's just we talked about something last night, something really personal?"

"Like what?" Her voice lowered at the end, she was by far m, afraid of what my answer was.

"You told me you didn't have a home." I announced, keeping my eyes on the road but from my side vision, I saw her shoulders lower in relief.

"Oh, that." She mumbled, shifting slight on the seat, "That's just something I always felt but I never really meant to say. Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out to you."

"No it's fine." I excused her right away, "It's just that I get it."

"You do?" She was clearly surprised at my response, evident by how her eyes widened.

"Yeah, the whole home concept. You should feel like you belong in your home, you know? Somewhere you could just feel safe and be yourself. " the words spewing out my mouth, weren't just to Cayden, they were thoughts that I've been holding in for a long time.

"Luke-" She paused as if she was debating on what to say, "-do yo-do you have a home?"

"No." And in all honesty, saying that out loud and not just to myself was like a breath of fresh air. Something inside me stirred but I wasn't upset or excited, it felt like I had come to terms with my feelings.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She genuinely says to me, fiddling around inside the plastic bag. "Here." She takes out a small bag of Sour Patch Kids, "I remembered you telling me this is your favorite candy."

Flashbacks of when my father's temper rose, the constant lecturing and criticizing every one of my failures was all I heard when I was a child. "Why can't you run faster? Can't you score a goal for once in your life? Your brothers have never once received pitiful grades like you. You are such a disappointment for a son."

My mom had always tried to calm him down but with her quiet, withdrawn personality she was never able to bear the wrath of him. As for my brothers, they were years older than me, both of them already in university, so really they weren't there to do much.

I didn't blame any of them, just myself.

And every time, my father's cheeks flushed and his eyes hardened, I fled to my room in tears. My only comfort being the secret stash of Sour Patch Kids under my bed.

I didn't even think Cayden even remembered that. It was some insignificant detail that I told her the first day we meet. But she did remembered and that was something special, it had to be.

"Thanks." I meant it as I was channeled back to my childhood whine the sour taste hit my tongue.

I turned the knob for the radio as a old tune creaked through the sound system. There were barely any other cars on the freeway, creating a feeling of serenity. Small droplets of water began to dot the wind shield and for a moment it was just the sound of the rain.

"We're actually going to Oregon?" Cayden glanced back at the road sign.

"I guess so." I answered, unsure of what if this was the right move. I was leaving everything I known behind, every inch of comfort was slowly being replaced by a sheer terror and thrill.

And I wasn't sure I was ready for what was waiting for us, for me.