The Diamond in the Rough

Chapter Two

Saturday poured rain constantly, prohibiting me from my usual hourly strolls. I'm not a social person, so what else to do? Read. All day. I ended up finishing three books, all of which I've read before.

My room is jampacked with all sorts of rich-kid things. PlayStation 3, flat screen television, king size bed, giant alcove window, a walk in closet. All decorated in purple and blue, I imagine any girl would just die to have this room. Yet, I use my closet partly as a mini library. I've never even played the PlayStation.

After the car experience Friday, I'm opening up to new experiences. Nothing too dramatic of course, maybe trying a new flavor sucker or rearranging my room. Truth is, it was somewhat exiting getting in that car. It was new. And everyone likes something new.

I put in Grand Theft Auto 4 and play for awhile. The game becomes strangely addicting. Actually, my favorite part is running over street hookers. Lets off steam.

On Sunday, the rain cleared up a bit, enough for me to walk on my usual path. I stuff in my bright blue Nike tennis shoes, my favorite. I walk downstairs past Derrick and Lisa, my "parents" who are washing dishes. This I don't understand, because right next to the sink is a dishwasher.

They wave as I step out of the front door, knowing where I'm going. I begin my path that boarders the edge of the town. The yellow fire hydrant, subtle purple one story house, past the fairgrounds, Clementine's Bakery, and the lake, I walk amongst my familiar landmarks. The only noise echoing is passing cars and light rolls of thunder.

About a three-fourths my route was behind me. Suddenly, the red front door to a somewhat rundown house flung open. Out stumbled whom other than Caleb, the free ride guy from Friday, slamming the door behind him. His eyes lock into mine and I'm in a way frozen from shock. Caleb shakes his head to himself and slides into his familiar Mazda Sedan.

His tires squeak as he leaves treads in the driveway. This time, he doesn't stop and offer me a ride. Instead, he speeds right on by, hitting a giant puddle by the curb, soaking me.

You'd thing I'd be, well, pissed. But as I hear the reckless screams and shouts coming from an argument inside that house, I decide not to jump to conclusions. I move on and finish what left of the route there is.

I do what probably anyone else would after - walk inside, shower, change into dry clothes, and collapse on the silky sheets of my bed. Throughout the rest of the night, I replay the scene over and over. I was of course curious. But you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.