Page 67 of The Rebel of Raleigh High
I’m turning onto her street when she answers.
Silver: I resent that. My car is not a beater.
Silver: I feel rude as hell, but would you mind dropping it off and going? Things aren’t good over here.
Me: No problem
Silver: You have plans tonight?
Me: At your mercy. Have something in mind?
Silver: What’s your address? I’ll come over after ten.
My nerves revolt,making me feel nauseous. Silver, coming to the trailer? I told her I wanted her to come over when we were at the cabin, but I didn’t really think about all that that entailed. The place needs more than a little TLC.
Me: 1876 Bow Hill Rd. You know which park?
I arriveat her place while she's still replying. I make it quick, pulling into the driveway, parking, killing the engine. I get out, looking up at the house—beautiful, serene, ivy climbing up the fascia, roses planted in the beds. The kind of house I dreamed of living in when I was a kid—and then I spy her, standing at one of the upstairs windows. My poor Silver looks like a ghost up there, alone, pale behind the glass. She really is so fucking beautiful. She raises a hand, pressing it against the window, a small, sad smile on her face, and I want to kick in the front door, race up the stairs and take her into my arms right this second.
She said now wasn’t good, though, which means the shit must be hitting the fan in there. I hold up her keys, making sure she can see what I’m doing as I place them on the Nova’s dashboard. She nods, just once, and then she vanishes out of sight.
I could call an Uber to take me home, but it seems like a waste of time. The trailer park I call home is four miles away, but I’m no stranger to walking. I don’t care about the cold or the fact that it’s just starting to rain. I need to clear my head, and four miles should give me plenty of time to think.
