1
DREW
I hate being home. Nothing ever changes.
My parents are downstairs arguing with each other. Probably about me—but I’m purposefully ignoring it.
My room is still a pale purple, still covered in posters from high school, pictures of me and my old friends, still displaying my old trophies and medals. Even my small collection of stuffed animals sits on my bed.
I didn’t have any of those in the apartment I rented in the city. It was all sleek chrome and white and black.
Easier to manage and match that way. Plus, I felt like a grownup. A real adult.
Apparently, I’d been wrong about that.
Just made the same old mistakes that I did before.
The ones that had me running out of here faster than I could holler“See ya!”and shedding my old persona of the perfect Pinebrook Princess the further I ran.
Instead, I made myself the perfect publishing pushover.
A lackey.
One step above an intern.
At best.
And I bent over backward for everyone. Anytime they asked me for help, I thought I’d been useful. Skilled.
I’m done being naive though. Not after Nick made a fool out of me. My childish hope that I could have an adult relationship, an adult job, and an adult life. But I had none of those things.
Such a fool.
Digging in my purse, I grab the joint I bought on my way across the state. Because I knew I would need it.
Let’s face it. I’m eating major shit coming home with my tail between my legs. At least one thing is certain.
I’m not the same girl who left, even if I’m blundering around the same way I did at eighteen.
I find it and sneak down the stairs, but I’m not stealthy enough.
“Where do you think you’re off to?”
I freeze halfway to the back door, my shoulders rising toward my ears to protect me from whatever mean shit my dad wants to fling at me.
“Outside,” I venture, knowing I’m not getting out of here as quickly as I hoped.
“What do you need that’s outside? You haven’t got anywhere else to run to.”
His presence is so big behind me, bigger than if he were in front of me.
But I don’t want to turn around and face him. It’s just seven more steps to the door. Too many but so few.
“I just want some fresh air.” Some freedom because being back here feels like I’m being caged all over again.
He’s right, though, I have nowhere else to go. I burned every bridge I had when I left home and every connection I had when I fled the city.
“Well, don’t think you’re back to get a free ride. After six years of not even coming home for Christmas, you’re going to be working in the bakery while you’re under this roof. Starting tomorrow. No if ands or buts.”
