Severed [GB + SB]

Three: Sang's No Good, Very Bad Day

This is dedicated to @9CorazonesOcultos for being brave as f***. 

THURSDAY Morning

I wasn't sure what the overall plan was, I'm not sure if any thought was put into it at all, or if this was the plan. I just didn't know. This was day three of no contact and no sightings of anyone — no attempts to find me or talk to me, no... nothing. And since the car I paid for was MIA, and the car Owen paid for was returned, I had no recourse. I had to ride the bus.

To say I wasn't looking forward to returning to Ashley Waters High School would be a gross understatement; to say I'd rather claw my own eyes out with a dirty fork, poach them, and eat them on toast rather than return to that school, is a much more accurate statement. Yet here I am, not only returning, but via the only mode of transportation engineered to make even the physical return itself into a form of living hell. This is GREAT. Just fucking GREAT.

I stood at the bus stop with the scattered few others from the neighborhood who lacked their own transportation, which included this guy Derrick from down the street — closer to the diner — who had been in my grade originally and was now a senior. He'd shot up in height and bulked up quite a bit in the last year or so since I'd seen him — I'd say about Kota-level muscle definition — and luckily did something different with his hair, which was now longish and flopped around his face in a cut similar to Gabe's, but it was much darker. I wondered if he played basketball. I wondered what happened to his sister, who was about the same age as Marie. I wondered why he didn't have a car. I wondered if he remembered me at all. I didn't think so, he was staring at me with an odd expression when I got on the bus but didn't say a word. I sat towards the middle, and pulled out a book to read, and tried to forget that this was going to be the start of my day now, every day.

I needed to see how much cash I could scrape together to buy a car. I really hated to have to do it — again — but depending on my father, and worse being beholden to my father, is unacceptable. I'd just have to burn through my Running Away money and find something, which I think is okay because I don't think I need to run away anymore. Or if I do, I've got someplace to run to. At least I hope I do.

With that in mind, I spent my commute planning out what needed doing, starting with getting my purse contents and phone from Victor, and then finding an affordable car on Craigslist. I stared out the window and mentally calculated what funds I could get together and what my limit on a car purchase should be, given potential repairs. It kept me busy the entire bus ride, and I managed to ignore the two girls in my seat who were crushing me against the window, and who were also ignoring me right back and talking across the aisle to their friend. I also ignored the boys hanging over the seat in front of me and shouting at other boys in the back, or the one in the seat behind me who smelled like BO and too much body spray — shouldn't one cancel out the other? — and was trying really hard to look down my shirt. I'm pretty sure that when we arrived at the school and I tried to get down the aisle, he's also the one that jostled into me and grabbed my ass. Without turning around, I elbowed him in the gut and punched down with my fist, nailing him in the nuts, and left him doubled-over, wheezing, and blocking traffic, while I emerged to the glory that is Ashley Waters High School.

I'm not even going to bother describing it, it just depresses me. I had my schedule, I had a plan until I heard otherwise (go to class, pay attention, listen for certain keywords like drugs and, well, drugs... I really needed more information), and I had my pride. I was not going to be all whiny and needy about this. I was not going to drag the guys down or make them feel bad because of my insecurities, my horrible memories of this place and the time surrounding my prior attendance, or my fears of getting trapped here — being forgotten by the guys, fading into the background of their mission, and having to stay for another — fuck me — three years. Because there's nothing quite like a twenty year old senior. Maybe, if I'm really lucky, I'll hook up with one of the star football players and get knocked up, and not only be trapped in this school but trapped in a shallow, loveless relationship and the responsibilities of a kid for the next 18 years. FUCK. No wonder my mom killed herself.