[8] Cry Me a River

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I am so screwed. So utterly and completely screwed.

How are they back so soon? What the hell, if he sees me here... oh god I need to leave. In two massive leaps I put the laptop away and tiptoe to the main hall, straining to hear better while simultaneously casing my surrounding.

Seems like the only other way out is through the sole window in this room, which thankfully happens to open to the right side of the house. But if they're even the slightest bit aware of their surroundings they might hear me, I'm no ninja. And Will's a damn bat.

What do I do?! I can feel beads of sweat gathering near the base of my neck, palms getting clammier by the second. I barely thought through my entry let alone my exit.

I remain frozen, listening. The chatter continues, morphing from barely audible to almost deafening. The raspy cackle of Mason the quarterback, Nelson's year-round sniffling, and Will's condescending smug-chuckle, the infamous smuckle as I call it.

You know what? I should at least try to escape. Mind set, I sneak towards the window. It's only when I hear a familiar voice cut through the senseless babble that I falter. I can't make out what's being said, but I'm certain it's Atty.

For all his huffing and puffing, he's surprisingly decided to help. Hell yeah, makes me almost guilty for trying to ditch him earlier.

The split second I waste thinking about Atty causes my gaze to wander and eventually land on Will's precious baseball hat. It's resting so peacefully on the center table, emulating a trophy despite the frayed edges on the bill and a black shade so sun dyed it's brown.

Suddenly, I'm clobbered by an overwhelming urge to ruin it. Will loves that stupid hat more than anything on this planet, it's the only proof he has that he, at some point in his life, had made his father proud.

I want to grab the scissors on the counter and cut a gaping hole in the top so his stupid gelled hair sticks out and he looks so ridiculous his heart breaks.

I want to hurt him, so so badly. I want to take away his confidence the way he took away my autonomy.

But it's wrong and I know that and my mom raised me better than that. If she was standing here right now, I wouldn't have the guts to even approach the hat. And my mama is always with me.

But...

A sharp voice pulls me out of my self-induced trance. It's Atty, he's explaining something to the guys. His words are followed by a bout of laughter from the group. Is he wooing them? Atty of all people is smooth talking?

By now they're so close they've become comprehensible.

I hear Will say, "sure man," with some rustling followed by, "here, I'll light it for you."

Atty asked for a smoke? Wow, that boy has many hidden dimensions. I'll have to ask him about it later. Holy crap, I really need to get out of here.

With as much speed as I can spare, I scurry to the window and pop it open. Carefully, I hoist myself over the pane and begin a painfully slow dash as soon as my feet touch the outside dirt.

No one is yelling or pursuing yet so I think I might just get away with it. Or not.

As soon as I round the corner to cut through the 'backyard', my foot collides with a stray football and my ankle rolls from underneath me. The entirety of my mass flies through the air, my shoulders ramming into the grill.

Unfortunately, the shock waves from my fall cause the open coal bag on top of the grill to topple. Within seconds my head and face are coated in ash.

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