I'm am not alone anymore

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     When the final bell rang, I almost screamed of joy. I run out to where I parked my bike, and I discover that my tire is flat.

     Just my luck!

     Now I'm going to have to walk all the way home. I begin to walk, as I start, I notice someone jogging up to me. I see Ethan appear next to me. His mouth moves but I can't hear him. I take one of my earbuds out.

     "What did you say?" I said.

     "Can I walk you home?" He asks.

     "Oh no, I'm fine." I said.

     "Too bad. I'm walking you home." He said.

     I glare at him. "I live pretty far from here."

     "Then let me drive you home." He said.

     I wanted to say no, but I know he'll just argue. So I give in, and let him drive me home. I follow him to his truck. He picks up my bike and puts it in the back. My eyes draw to his muscular arms. This boy is ripped and very attractive.

     Okay, stop drooling over boys Penelope. This is Ethan, the boy who ruined your freshman and sophomore year. He's also a Christian.

     He opens the passenger door for me.

     Great. He's also a gentleman.

     I offer him a slight smile and get in the truck. He gets in the other side and starts the truck.

     When he drives, I sit there in silence. When he gets to a red light, he look at me.

     "You never told me what you were listening to." He said.

     "Oh, um, you probably wouldn't like it..." I shrug.

     "Eh, I like all genres of music. Just plug it in. Let's hear it." He hands me an AUX cord for his radio. I plug in the iPod and the rock music fills the truck.

     I turn to him. But I don't actually look at him. "Don't judge me."

     He laughs. "No, I actually like this band. I went to one of their concerts this summer."

     "Really? Me too." I smile.

     This is the most I've spoken in a long time. I honestly feels weird. Especially when I'm talking to a guy.

     Suddenly, the speakers fill with one of my songs. Yes, I'm a songwriter. But I never had someone listen to my songs.

     I quickly reach for my iPod that is sitting on the seat. I touch the iPod and then his hand covers mine. It makes me jump and I quickly pull my hand away. I feel like I'm going to throw up with all these butterflies in my stomach.

     "Don't turn it off." He says. "This is a really good song. Who sings it?"

     My face turns bright red. "Uh, I-I wrote it." I say.

     "You write songs?" He asks me.

     "Y-yeah." I stutter.

     He shoots me a smile. "You're really good." He said.

     This is unbelievable. A guy just complimented my music. Ethan just complimented my music.

     "Uh, thanks." I brush my hair behind my ear. "Oh, this is my house." I point at my house. He pulls into the driveway. Me and him get out and he gets my bike from the back.

     "T-thanks for the ride." I said.

     "Hey no problem. If you ever need a ride, just give me a call. I'll give you my number." He pulls out his phone.

     "Oh, I don't have a cell phone." I cringe. He probably thinks I'm trying to get rid of him.

     I am trying to get rid of him.

     The look on his face makes me feel like I just murdered the president.

     "You don't have a cell phone?" He says in disbelief.

     "Uh no, my mom, I mean my family is on a tight budget right now." I said.

     "Oh, I understand." He stares at me for a second. "You know what, I'll just write my number on a napkin and you can call me whenever you get a phone." He writes it down and hands it to me. "There you go. I'll see you tomorrow Penelope." He smiles and hops back in his truck.

     When he's out of sight, I run back into my house. I have work in 20 minutes. And my mom needs to drive me there.

     "Mom?" I yell. No answer. Her car isn't even in the driveway. Which is kind of weird, because she's always home after I get home from school.

     I look down at the napkin that Ethan wrote his number on. Should I call him with my home phone? I shake my head, he just left, I don't want to bug him. So, I just run out the door and start running.

     I work at a restaurant/ diner. I hate it. I hate my boss, I hate the people that are picky, I hate all of it. But it gives me money, so I guess I have to deal with it.

     I arrive 5 minutes late. I get greeted by stares from the customers and my boss' glare.

     "I'm so sorry I am late." I tell him.

     "To late to apologize. Go wipe that cake off of your face, and get into uniform." He snaps.

     "Yes sir." Apparently my makeup is too much, but my piercings are okay.

     I go to the employee bathroom. I tear off many paper towels and begin to wipe off my make up. I look like a completely different person without my make up. I put on my uniform and put my hair up in a tight bun. I go back out and do my job.

     After work, I head home. As I enter my house, I smell something foul. That means my mom is over the toilet throwing up her guts. I sigh and head up to my room. She has a problem, I wish I could help, but I'll probably make thing worse. I put on my headphones to drown out the sound, and I lay down. The lyrics enter my brain and I drift off to sleep. 

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