The Runaway House

Twenty-two . Unfolded

   "She dated him for a while. Matthew. They were happy, I suppose. I don't really know. She never talked about that part of her life too much."

A shiver runs up my spine. Matthew. It hangs in the air, like even his name is a sin. He killed Travis's mom, and he killed a man right in front of my eyes. The sky seems to darken in response to our conversation.

"Then Jeff showed up at the Runaway House one day. My grandpa had found him wandering some country road and had brought him in." Travis rubs the back of his neck but keeps his eyes on the path.

"It took a while for my mom to warm up to him. I think she blamed it on her infatuation with Matthew. But, eventually, she fell in love with my dad. I honestly don't know what she saw in him. But she broke up with Matthew—and he was fine with it. He moved on just as quickly as my mom had. He left the Runaway House a few months later.

"It wasn't until years later, when I was about ten, that he came back into the picture. Jeff and my mom went into town to some dance. Matthew was there, but he left them alone. That is, until the end of the night, when my parents got into some kind of fight."

I watch him closely. Travis's voice is beginning to quiver, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

"My dad didn't hurt her. He just grabbed her arm when she tried to walk away on him. It was like Matthew was waiting for it to happen. Like he knew it would. And just like that, he was all up in Jeff's business, yelling at him about how abusive he was. Jeff says he was drunk."

Travis pauses, and we start to slow down. "I didn't realize I was going that fast," he mumbles.

My hand squeezes his.

He sighs. "My mom never made it back to the House. She stormed off while Jeff and Matthew fought. And when they were finished, Jeff didn't even try to find my mom. He just sat down at their table. Matthew found her first. She tried to get away from him, but she ended up running right onto the street and in front of a car." He pauses, one hand rubbing his face. "She died running away. She died in fear.

"When he told me that—that he hadn't even bothered to find her—that's when I finally realized that Jeff was just a coward. Nothing else. I think that's what made him leave . . . only to return with you. You have no idea how much you look like her," he whispers and glances at me.

The deep sadness in his eyes makes my grip on his hand loosen. But his only gets tighter.

I take in his taut shoulders, clenched jaw. Every time he looks at me must be torture. Seeing his mother in teenage form, in a girl he's slowly falling for.

I bite back an apology—because I can't say sorry for this. Part of me wishes I could change for Travis so he wouldn't hurt every time he sees me. But I grip the edge of my seat, willing myself to stand strong. I cannot apologize for being who I am.

I am beautiful, flaws and all. I may remind him of his mother, and that may hurt him, but I have a feeling it's doing him more good than bad.

He stops the van and just looks at me.

As he takes me in, I think it registers what's going on inside of me. He has a knack for being able to figure that out.

"You came to the Runaway House scared and reluctant. Yet here you are, practically a new person. Brave—so, so brave, Jubilee. I can look into your eyes and see the newfound strength you have. As silly as this may sound, I'm proud of you." His voice is soft with awe.

When he leans in and kisses my forehead, I melt inside just a little bit. He sees all of me—the fear fighting to tear down my bravery, my broken innocence due to what my eyes have seen, the beautiful girl I've transformed into by stepping into a House full of love.