The Stolen Heart

"Your little nub won't even show."

When I walk in the house after school, I am utterly shocked to see Mom standing in the living room, waiting for me. It's still Monday.

"Mom?" I ask.

She's on the phone with someone. She puts her hand up.

"Alright, yes, I'll tell her. Okay, see you soon, bye."

She hangs up.

"Have a seat." She says.

Noah and Dad are sitting on the other couch.

I gulp.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Let's call this an intervention." Mom says.

"I'm not failing school." I say.

"I know." She says. "Now, since men know nothing about women, your father called me. Why? Because you were crying like a toddler over a love letter."

This is about Bradley.

"I flew all the way from England for this."

"Wow, god forbid you have to see your children." I mutter.

"Enough." She says. "Go get the letter." She says.

"But-"

"I didn't ask." She says.

I gulp and go upstairs and get the letter. I bring it down.

"Read it." She says.

"Why?" I snap. "Just get to the fucking point?"

"The point is that the letter tells you he isn't going to leave you. You aren't going to be rejected! You guys have true love! That's rare, but you're running from it!"

I cross my arms.

"You're going to tell him." She says. "Mrs. Scone is in New York City for the week. You are going over to Bradley's house right now and you're going to tell him how you feel."

"I don't have to listen to Mommy and Daddy anymore." I say through gritted teeth.

"Well you'll be living in the streets until you do." Dad cuts in. "Now get out."

"You guys are kicking me out?" I ask carefully.

"Yes." Mom says.

"You don't even live here!" I shout at her.

"Get out." Dad says. "Or I'll call the cops."

"Fuck you." I go upstairs and dump my drawers into a duffle bag. I throw the bag out the window when it's packed, and I get my soaps and put them in another bag with my toothbrush and toothpaste and razor, and then I go downstairs and grab my backpack.

I walk out and slam the door and get my duffle bag and the other bag and toss them in the back of my car.

I drive down the street to the park and sit there till dark with my head on the steering wheel.

Can I even do this?

I pick up my phone and text Madison.

Me: can I stay with you?

Madison: No. I know your parents plan. Go to Bradley.

I sigh and text Danny.

Me: can I stay with you?

Danny: nope.

Gulping, I start my car again and drive over to Bradley.

Not because I have to tell him, but because I'm hungry and he always has good food.