SHOUT - Adopted by Lin Manuel Miranda

WALK AWAY

The sound of a bird tweeting flutters my eyes open. A blurry ceiling stares back at me. I hear voices in the other room. Maybe I'm still dreaming.

I palm the pillow beneath my head. There's blanket draped over me and a duffel bag slumped against the wall. Oh. Oh, God, I'm at Luis's place. The subway, the dark, the running, and the doorbell I rang, the couch I slept on-- I remember. I remember, and I'm awake. I sit slowly so my back doesn't crack too quickly. The room is warmer than I thought it would be. The sun through the window is bright enough to make me squint. 

The voices in the other room go quiet and footsteps pat against the wood. The kitchen door creaks open, slowly. I shut my eyes to rub them. When I open them, Lin is standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob.

A truck beeps through the screen window. Birds roosting on the balconies call back. 

"Hey," he says.

My voice takes a moment to return to me. "Hey."

He sits slowly on the cushion opposite me. "How are you feeling?"

He's wearing the same clothes he wore last night, except he has sneakers on and his hair is down. I shrug. The blanket moves with my shoulders.

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and glances down at the humps of my knees beneath the blanket. A pigeon pecks the windowsill and an engine roars in the distance. An airplane, maybe, or another truck. A television would be nice, something we could pretend to look at. But all we have is Luis's rainbow afghan blanket and a pillow in the middle of the couch.

"I never changed homes as a kid," he blurts, almost like a confession. "I never... went into a foster home, or went hungry, none of that." He takes a deep breath. "We're different from each other, you know?

I know, I want to say.

"I'm not your father," he tells me. "And I won't pretend to know what you've been through. All I can do is teach you what's right and hope you listen. And I tried, but—"

"I couldn't," I say.

"You didn't. You could've listened, but you didn't. There's a difference." He shakes his head. "The important thing is that you're safe. But this could've ended really, really, badly," he says. "I know things were rough back at the shelter, but we're your family, now. And in this family, we tell the truth. Do you understand me?"

"I'm sorry," I tell him.

"You should be," he says. "Because you went too far."

I draw my knees closer to my chest. Something trembles in my throat, but I swallow before I let it show. Lin rests his hand on my knee, then draws back when he remembers it's me he's touching.

"You miss them, huh?"

My voice splits down the middle. "Yeah."

He swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. "Is there any other way you could get in touch with them? Fax them, or—?"

"No." I wipe my eyes with the heel of my palm. "No, it's not gonna happen."

"Hey," he says softly. My eyes flicker up to meet his. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it again. "I owe you an apology, too."

I watch. I listen.

"I drank, last night," he tells me. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I... I get that, now, and I'm sorry." He draws in a ragged breath. "I thought I lost you, Vidya."

"It's okay," I whisper.

"No, it's not okay." His voice cracks. "I promise, I'm gonna try to do better, okay?"