The Misadventures Of Shyla And Davie.

The Misadventures Of Shyla And Davie. [5]

Shyla's POV::

The week was a blur. Would we really just leave? Could we? I guess the question wasn't could we, it was who would attempt to stop us if we tried? I couldn't answer my own questions, save for a few. And answering them just brought more questions to mind. It was crazy making. Everyday, I thought about it, doing everything else I did as though I was a zombie. Eat, School, Homework, Bathe, Sleep, Repeat. It was the only thing on my mind. The very thought of getting out of this empty town brought a smile to my face. Which hurt. Like a motherfucker.

When twas Friday, I was shocked. Had the week gone that fast?

"Damn." I whispered to nobody as I walked, with dragging feet, to English Lit. I was zoning out and didn't see her in front of me. I ran into her.

"Hey!" she yelled.

I looked at her face. She looked at mine. Bile rose in my mouth. I'd somehow managed to run into Bitchany. I jumped back as though she was repulsive. I guess she didn't get the hint that we were not on speaking terms. Nor would we ever be again.

"Shyla!" she screeched in an annoying fan-girl voice. She made a move to hug me but I lightly pushed her back.

"Wha..." Bethany said dejectedly. "Whats wrong? And why didn't you text me back?!"

I glared at her. "Why're you talking to me."

"Because we're friends, silly." she said with an eye-roll.

"No. We aren't." I told her.

An odd look crossed her face, causing me to think of that night. Friends don't do that to friends, I told myself firmly, before I could accept her with open arms.

"Since when?"

"Since July you bitch."

She recoiled as though I'd physically hit her. Tears filled her fake brown eyes. They're blue for a reason dumb-ass, I thought, accept your natural eye-color.

"I didn't mean for that to-" She said, fumbling her words.

"Just leave me alone."

"Shyla!" Bethany said. "C'mon, forgive and forget?" A hopeful looked crossed that fake face.

"I'm going to be late for class." I said, escaping with no real answer given by jogging down the nearly empty hall.

"Text me!" She called.

Yeah, right. I thought.

I flew through the door of the classroom with seconds to spare. I went to my desk and plopped down. Mr. Cross started a lecture. I paid attention, took notes. This was my best class. Before I knew it, the period ended. Everyone flooded out into the hallway, catching me in the wave. I got to my locker right as Davie got to his. He looked at me carefully, like I was a porcelain doll that if gazed upon too strongly would surely shatter.

I coughed lightly. With a 90 degree turn, I faced my locker. Taking out my Spanish folder, and book along with the notebook I already carried, I slammed my locker shut. The lock clicked decisively. Davie raised an eyebrow before grabbing his things for his math class. He started walking down the hall. I sighed and turned the opposite way to run for the Spanish room.

---

Spanish ended with the trilling sound of the school bell echoing in my ears. Thoughts of leaving still spun like a hurricane in my head as I walked dazedly to my locker. I had all my things out when Davie came. He stared at me. Again. It was almost a glare, rather than a stare. I swallowed, scared.

"Hey." I said quietly.

"Hi." He said curtly.

I sighed again. He must be angry with me, I figured. I started walking towards a pair of doors that opened into the front courtyard.

"Shy?" His voice questioned from behind me.

I stopped. "Yes?" I replied, still facing away.

"Come to my house tonight. I have a surprise."

I nodded. "Alright."

Out the door, across the lot, and down the streets I went. Cool air penetrated my winter jacket and stung my cheeks. I spun in the snow flurries as I walked home alone for the first time in a while. I got to my house and stared at the menacing structure. I walked inside. Off, I took my shoes, calmly. My jacket too. I felt calm for once. I was usually on edge here. My father leaned around the corner of the den's door to see who was home.

"Hello." I said before starting up the stairs.

I didn't hear a reply. I rolled my eyes. Jack-ass. I dumped my back-pack out on my bed. Pens and pencils, hair ties, bobby-pins, a stick of eyeliner, a notebook, my math book, and assorted random objects rained down on my comforter. I wondered what would be my surprise later. I threw clothes into the bag. Followedby my makeup, a book, a notebook, and facewash. I felt like I'd need them. The last things I tucked in were a blankie and a stuffed puppy my uncle(who was a better father than mine could ever hope to be) had given me at a yound age, my wallet with 384 dollars stashed inside, and a warm sweatshirt. Never go anywhere unprepared, I thought as I slid down the banister of the stair case and stumbled off at the bottom. My dad plowed into the entry way.

"What was that?" He said menacingly.

"Me on a railing." I giggled, feeling like a rebel.

I pulled on shoes, grabbed my jacket, and was out the door before  he could grab an arm or leg.

-- 5. Ill finish this. Because I cant stand not finishing something. But I wishhh readers would give feedbackk! Pleasseee?