The lingering scent of cigarettes was overwhelming as Rylen stepped through the back door, coughing and waving the disgusting fumes away. Her uncle and his various sleazeball-er, less than gentlemen-like friends sat around the kitchen table with a pack of cards, glasses of what Rylen assumed was vodka, and various cigars and cigarettes in between their fat fingers. The rambunctious laughter died down, five balding heads turning away from their hand of cards to see the dark-haired niece who was the source of disruption in their game of poker.
Rylen's uncle gave a simple nod of recognition, not even bothering to make eye contact, then turned around back to his table of rowdy middle-aged men who had much more money in their wallets than they knew what to do with, and restarted the conversation. Rylen sighed, throwing her bag back over her shoulder, and trudged up the steps to her desolate bedroom. She preferred space, dark curtains, and a nice place that she could get away from the disgusting men that usually occupied the downstairs of the home she shared with her uncle. He had been married once before deciding he favored the company of young and desperate wannabe popstars to produce music for rather than a woman to return to every night in his rather empty three story home.
That didn't bother Rylen in the slightest, as she tended to keep to herself often anyway. She just desired that the other millionare jerks who had nothing better to do than blow their money with her priority-lacking uncle would stay at their own decked-out house sometime. That wasn't the company she would like to keep, considering she wanted any at all.
Dropping her bag on the shiny wooden floor, Rylen fell back on her bed and let out another sigh. That run-in with basketball boy was enough social interaction for her for the day. Drawing the dark canopy that hung around her bed closed, she drifted off into a state where the boisterous laughing down the steps could not be heard, and she was allowed to be left alone.
YOU ARE READING
The Kids on Exspes Street
Novela JuvenilWe've always been the odd ones out. We've always been able to pretend. We always thought we were exactly what our parents made us out to be. So we did everyone a favor; we ran away. Cover Art Credit: gelatoandchoco
