The Music or the Misery (Book 2)

We Are Wild

                    

The feeling of excitement inside me doesn't go away throughout the whole drive to Patrick's apartment. The amount of relief I feel is probably part of it. Relief because I no longer have to do something that I feel no passion about. Instead, I get to do something that I want to, something that I've chosen. With someone I... care about deeply. Maybe most of my excitement comes from the fact that I'm getting to spend time with Patrick but I won't say that out loud quite yet.

Pulling up outside Patrick's apartment, I jump out and grab everything I need or at least everything, I think I'll need. Jogging up the stairs I knock on the door, trying to calm myself down before he answers. This all feels liberating but I'm nervous too. What if I've made the wrong choice? What if my father never speaks to me again? A lot of different questions form in my head until Patrick opens the door, a shy smile on his face.

I can still see the tiredness around his eyes and the kind of sadness that only grief can cause, only now his eyes are a little brighter, his smile genuine.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind" he says softly before I step forward and wrap my arms around him. The only way I can describe how I feel when I'm in his arms, is safe. Especially when he returns my hug, squeezing me to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't decide sooner" I reply. He doesn't let me go for a few moments and I smile into his shoulder, my doubts fading.

"You're here now, that's all that matters" he states. Pulling away, he takes my bag from me and we walk inside. The feeling of belonging hits me again, just like before and I sigh, letting it surround me.

"I'm not going to lie, I'm a little terrified" I tell him and he turns to me quickly.

"What are you afraid of?" he asks, his gaze trying to work me out. It's a good question really because my fears are silly.

"I just walked out of my house and all I left behind was a note, oh and my phone. My father is going to freak out. Even though I had enough courage to leave, I still feel like I've done something wrong. Even though I really know I haven't" I try to explain but I more than likely sound crazy.

"You honestly haven't done anything wrong. Just because your father wants you to do something, it doesn't mean that it's a crime to do otherwise. If this is what you want, then there's no wrong" he tells me, his voice a soft encouragement.

"This is what I want. I'll just feel better when we get out of here. Old habits die hard and I have a horrible image of him showing up at your door again" I laugh. Patrick takes my hand ever so gently, his thumb brushing over my fingers.

"Even if he did, you wouldn't have to leave this time" he replies, smiling. I know he's right. My father can't make me do anything anymore. I'm not in high school, I'm not his to control.

"Are you excited?" I ask brightly, changing the subject.

"I am now" he responds, a shy smile appearing on his face. It makes me blush, especially when I think of how funny it is, that he's shy. It's not as if we're strangers. Although, I suppose being this way with him is different. Being free is different.

"I have a feeling I'm going to have a good time" I state, squeezing his hand. He nods once and his smile grows, excited.

"I certainly hope so" he replies. Then his face suddenly falls serious. "My mom might not be here but I'm going to make her proud" he continues, his voice a little rougher. His eyes water ever so slightly but he holds back the tears, his expression determined. Stepping closer, I brush my fingers over his cheek, proud of his strength.

"Yeah, you really are" I encourage and watch as he puts on a brave face, ready for the world. It makes me feel privileged that I get to know the real him. He hurt me in the past but for some reason, I've never been able to convince myself that he's a bad person.