Running Free

Chapter 6 | Slacker

Gotta admit, this gif is adorable >.<

The rest of my day turned out to be complete shit.

Because I lost it. The one thing I had never wanted to do, let alone even plan to do, was to lose it like I had done in the coffee shop. In front of all of those people. In front of Fay. We had seen each other for the first time in ages and I ruined it. Lately, it seemed like all I ever did is ruin things.

I was pretty much forced into accepting Fay's offer as she insisted in helping me out with Toby. She told me to just go back to my apartment and that she would pick him up for me. I typed my address into her phone before I walked—scratch that—ran out of that damn coffee shop and drove home.

And I cried.

A lot.

I hung up my jacket, ran into my room, locked the door and cried. No, cried was an understatement; I sobbed. Everything was so messed up now, I couldn't even have one day, just one normal day, to actually feel like I knew what I was doing.

Even though I didn't have a clue.

I ran away with my little brother, halfway across the world to Paris, and I was still figuring things out. There was just too much. I couldn't keep on sending Toby to daycare when he should be in actual school. But he didn't speak French, so he wouldn't understand anything they were saying and—

I needed to calm myself down.

My mom would have known what to do. She always knew what to do whenever we were in a tough situation. And my dad would always cheer me up with the secret handshake he and I made up when I was a lot younger. Then he would pinch my cheek gently and say, "smile Pumpkin!"

God, I missed their voices. Before coming to Paris, I used to call both of their cell phones at least ten times everyday just to hear them speak when it came to voicemail. That was until Verizon cut their phone service because the police notified them that the phones were taken as evidence and could no longer be used. I was so distraught that day when I heard, 'Sorry, this number is no longer available' and blah blah you know how it goes. I was expecting the usual welcoming voice of my mom, the confident voice of my dad.

And if it wasn't for Verizon, I would still be calling.

It was two days later, and I was enduring yet another miserable class of Criminology 1 with Mr. Davidson and also, Noah. Who, by the way, hadn't talked to me me in a while. I bet I'd said this a thousand times already, but I didn't blame him. He seemed nice enough to know that I didn't want to tell him why I thought he was a crazy psycho-killer chasing me down the hallway. Not yet, at least. But I couldn't keep on ignoring him forever, because I think we both needed someone to lean on.

I took the risk of turning back in my seat when the professor turned his back to write on the board. I figured I could make an attempt and pretend like nothing happened between Noah and I. Spotting him sitting in the row behind me, I was surprised only to catch him sleeping in his seat as the professor paced around the room, preaching the lesson after writing the steps of how to handle a crime scene. Noah's arms were crossed in front of him over his desk, his head resting on top of them, tilted in my direction. Not wanting for him to get in trouble, I opened my mouth to say something, but another voice beat me to it. A loud clap rang through the classroom, the sound of Mr. Davidson's hand slamming on Noah's table startling everyone. Noah suddenly jolted awake, his chocolate brown eyes wide in confusion as he repositioned himself in his seat.

"Mr. Branchard. Why am I not surprised?" Mr. Davidson disapprovingly shook his head. "Tell me young man, do you find my class boring?" He tapped his ruler in his hand intimidatingly.

"No sir," Noah croaked.

"Well, I'll have you know that I am not teaching this class for your entertainment, but to educate you on the rules of the law. Now if you decide to not pay attention, that's your choice, just know that with these continued actions, I promise you that no branch of law enforcement will accept you. Especially someone who has the reputation of sleeping on the job." The professor raised his voice, drawing in the ears of everyone in the room.

"I'm, I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again," Noah vowed, his eyes frightened and embarrassed.

"Better not, and to make sure of it, you can march yourself straight down to the chancellor's office where you'll be given a more direct talking to. And to think I had such high hopes for you. It's such a shame to see all of that go to waste. Now go, get out of my classroom," Mr. Davidson ordered, pointing a straight finger at the door.

I shot Noah a sympathetic look as he scrambled out of his chair, shoving everything into his bag and rushing out of the room, his head lowered with his hair swooping in front of his face.

Well this is great, isn't it?

Slacker.