Runaway - A Mike Fuentes Fanfic

Chapter Six

***Iris's POV***

“We're going to have to drop by my house so I can get somethings,” I say looking down at the clothing I was wearing. I was wearing Mike's extra large pyjama pants, and a California tank that looks like it's about 50 years old.

“I know, but you'll have to be quick,” he focuses on the road.

We were driving in an orange/brown pickup truck that Mike inherited from his father. It was rusty and the seats were falling apart, but it would do it's job and get us out of here.

“My mum isn't home, she's at work until eight tonight, so I do have about 6 hours,” I laugh.

“But isn't James after you?”

“Yes, but he doesn't know where I live,” I state. Maybe he did know where I lived? That night when I was coming back from the Fuentes' house he did call me saying that I shouldn't be walking alone. Maybe he followed me?

“Are you sure? How did he know you we're in San Diego?” He asks.

“Because I told my teachers and my friends where I was moving, shit gets around,” I was starting to worry now. What if he was at my house now? Or he hurt my mum?

We pull into my driveway and I hop out of the truck. I dig through my bag browsing for my keys. Eventually I found them and I quickly walked and unlocked the door.

I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, with Mike trailing behind me. When I reach my room I grab a bigger bag and throw in some band tees, jeans, a couple hoodies, and a pair of sweat pants.

“I like your room,” Mike says scanning the walls. “I didn't quite see it this morning because it was dark, but it still looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” I smile. “Can you go into the bathroom down the hallway and grab the pouch beside the sink please?” I ask.

“Sure thing,” he says and runs out of the room.

I go to my bead side table and open the drawer, pulling out a pill bottle and a small tin case. I throw them in the front pocket of my back pack and zip it up.

“What was that?” Mike's voice rings through the room.

“What's what?” My heart speeds up.

“The pills, and that tin case?” He holds out the bag I told him to get.

“Thank you,” I whisper,” Um, they're some things I need.”

The pills were anti-depressants, and the tin case was filled with razor blades.

“For what?” My breathing increases.

“Headaches, I get major headaches,” I say my voice coated with lies.

“If you just got headaches then why is the medication a prescription?”

Shit, he's catching on. I can't lie to him again, it'll hurt our friendship. “Their anti-depressants,” I scratch my head.

“And the tin can?”

“Razor blades..” I trail off.

“Iris,” he says and pulls me into a hug, “Don't do that again, okay? I know it's hard, but you don't deserve something like that. You're gorgeous, smart, and you have a great sense of humour, you need to stop, okay? For me,” I feel my eyes fill up with tears.