Criminal for You |On Hold|

Chapter 8: Excuse Me?

Summer's POV

A cold autumn breeze sweeps through the afternoon air, lifting orange leaves in a drunk haze. Trees wave noisy greetings as their branches sway in the wind. The red sky begins to darken as it makes way for the moon.

It's Friday, around 5 o'clock in the afternoon. I'm currently taking a walk, because I'm trying to clear my headspace from all the drama its cluttered with.

Alright, first things first. I had gone shopping with Katie earlier. And yes, I told her all about my dad and how I'm living with Aunt Jem. Honestly, she was shocked beyond comprehension but ended up feeling bad for me.

In fact, she felt so bad that she paid for my outfit.

The bad news? She hand-picked the entire outfit herself. Yeah, that would be fine and dandy if I don't die of embarrassment at the party tomorrow night.

First of all, I never wear spaghetti straps. She bought me a red dress with freaking spaghetti straps! This protest is from a person who always has her shoulders covered modestly, either it be a shoulder-sleeve or a longer sleeve or a strap that's a lot thicker than a mere centimeter.

And then.. and then!

High heels!

That abominable creation! How in the world am I supposed to wear high heels without stumbling or tripping everytime I try to take a step? That thing takes practice, but I don't have any practice whatsoever.

So, in short, I'm screwed.

I can still hear Katie's voice ringing in my head: "Come on, I want you to try something new!"

Well, honestly, an embarrassing outfit is a mild concern compared to everything else that has happened. I currently have a cat in my house that may or may not be held as hostage.

Okay, okay, it's very comfortable and it knows and loves me, so hostage is the wrong word. Maybe.. maybe it was voluntarily kidnapped. Something like that.

Yes, Cookie (or Milk? So frustrating) is in my own house at 38 Green Street, in my room. I left lots of cat biscuits and toys in there for her and a box of cat litter, too. I brought her there yesterday afternoon. And of course, I plan to check on her regularly.

In fact, I'm walking in the direction of my house right now. I'll keep Cookie some company and see if she needs anything. I might do a few other things as well before proceeding to head to Aunt Jem's place.

"Vroooomm!! Here comes the airplane!" A high-pitched voice rings out in the air. I whip my head to see that it belongs to a little boy with dirty blonde hair, running with a large, plastic toy airplane in his hand. "Whooooossshh!"

I stop for a moment when I realize that I've arrived at Greenwell Park. The playground is filled with kids doing all sorts of ridiculous things that come with youthfulness. Some run around playing tag, and the more rebellious ones climb up the slide instead of going down. Parents stand and talk to each other while the elderly sit peacefully on benches.

I feel so tempted to go to the park and relax for a little while. Come to think about it, its been a long time since I've been to a park. It won't hurt to spend a couple of minutes on a swing, would it?

My feet move forward without any further thoughts. I smile a little to myself when I realize how immature I am for wanting to sit on a swing. Of course, there are larger swings made for older people, but still.. it's hard to find an 18 year old like me on one of those.

The swings that are higher off the ground are unoccupied, proving my point. I shrug and sit down on the bright yellow one. It feels good to be here, surrounded by worry-free kids and calm adults. I kinda miss being a little, reckless kid at one point in my life, but I guess I'm still not as responsible as I ought to be.