Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 19

Kaylah's POV

How many times is it socially acceptable to call a stranger before you become a creep? Whatever that number might be, I had most certainly exceeded it, the seven missed phone calls being shameful evidence.

"She'll call back," muttered Ianie, as unfazed (and most likely high) as ever, extending their vape towards me. I eyed it suspiciously.

"Please tell me it isn't cherry flavoured again. You know I hate cherry," at that, they just rolled their eyes. "It's mint. Come on, it'll help you relax," Ianie's calm was borderline annoying, yet I accepted the offer, as I realised how badly my feet hurt from pacing around.

"How long- "

"Almost 20 minutes. C'mon sit down," they pat the seat next to them, and while a concrete slab normally wouldn't look so appealing (although in the shade) my heel clad feet definitely felt like they needed a break. I puffed out a long stream of smoke, watching it disperse in the moisture-soaked air.

"You know there's always the possibility that she doesn't know anything and you're wasting your time fretting over nothing," although they said this in the same moronic calm they had held onto the whole afternoon, and although I logically knew they probably hadn't intended to spite me, the remark still grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"You know there's always the possibility that you're being an insensitive asshole about it, and I could just leave" although I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth, I didn't regret them quite enough to apologize.

However, it got my point across. Ianie stood up, gave me an incredulous look, then promptly shrugged. Deciding to give me the space I craved, they promptly picked up their bike.

" 'Aight. Text me when you're feeling like a decent person again," Ianie said plainly, not even sparing me a glance. Fine by me.

I extended my arm to hand them over the vape, but Ianie promptly batted my hand away. "You need it more than I do," and with that they sped off, bell clinking obscenely loud, scaring a couple of children playing nearby and making one of the little ones cry, which earned some dirty looks from their mothers.

The hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach had come back again. Although eight months is considerably longer than I expected it to take, I had silently hoped it wouldn't come back at all. I only feel the more guilty as I've been debating whether I should simply just end this relationship, this charade, before I work myself back into the same agonizing panic I have multiple times before.

6:28. I still had about three and a half hours to kill before curfew. And yes, I do have curfew at 9:30 at 17. And that's if I really push it. It's just that I happen to have one of those helicopter mothers who don't really grasp the concept of a democratic system. I'd really love to have an argument that ends in anything else except "Because I said so,". Thank god nurses just so happen to work 12-hour shifts. Night shifts especially.

Don't get me wrong. I love my mom. She can just be a little too much at times. Okay, maybe more than a little.

I started walking aimlessly around, slowly circling the lake, headphones plugged in, bopping to a Muse song I really love but could never recall the name of (like I can ever recall the name of anything important). Funnily enough, I will probably never remember whether my best friends' birthday is on the 10th or 12th of October, but I am yet to forget the capital of Barbados, something one of my fact obsessed ex boyfriends mentioned on our first date (It's Bridgetown).

The music brutally cut off to give way to the generic iPhone ringtone everybody swears they hate yet still use.  I really need to fix that. Or get another phone. Just putting it out there in case my mom actually made good on the promise to hire a private investigator to monitor me 24/7 and is now actually listening to me mumble(it wasn't a fun argument).I gave the 30 something year old passing by a wicked side eye glance and although he probably thought I was crazy, I couldn't care less when I saw who was calling.