Runaway - Chapter 18
I wrung out my hair and stared at the new shade in the mirror.
I refused to go fully brunette. I didn’t want to look anything like Isabella, and I was scared if my hair matched hers that I might see her in my reflection.
Instead my hair was now a mousey brown. And I’d cut it to right above my shoulders. I didn’t look anything like myself.
It was funny. I’d been trying to come up with the perfect plan to escape from my dad over the past few months. I thought that a change like this would have been my own idea. But my father was waiting in the living room for me to come out and show him my new look.
He’d wanted to move Miller and me for the summer.
And I told him I wasn’t starting over again.
I vehemently refused. He’d slowly been giving in more and more to me over the past few months.
And after a lot of persuasion, he finally agreed to let us stay here as long as I didn’t look like myself anymore.
Which was easy. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. And now? I looked at the stranger staring back at me. I’d lost a lot of weight. My cheeks looked hollow. And now my hair was completely different. No one would recognize me. I barely recognized myself.
I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall.
My father set the newspaper down that he’d been reading. “That’ll do,” he said.
I sat down next to him on the couch. “So we can stay?”
He nodded.
I smiled, but resisted hugging him. I preferred to keep my distance from my father. Yes, he was being nice right this moment. But that could easily change. And I still didn’t trust him.
“No talking to strangers though, alright?”
“Stranger danger,” I said. “Got it.”
He laughed. “Exactly. So you’re excited to spend the summer here?”
I wouldn’t use the word excited. But Miller and I had kind of made this place our home despite the fact that it was our cage. I didn’t want to talk about my summer plans though. All I was going to do this summer was go for runs and dream of another life.
I cleared my throat. “You said you’d think about talking to Matt.
” I’d brought it up enough times that I was pretty sure he was close to caving on this too.
My dad and I had come to a mutual understanding.
I wouldn’t throw a fit when he came. And he’d be nicer to me.
Sometimes it was really hard not to want to scream at him though.
“I did.” He pulled out his phone. “I want you to be happy. And safe. That’s all I want.”
So…was that a yes or a no? I just stared at him.
“I gave this a lot of thought. And you’re right. Now that the dust has settled, maybe it’ll be okay.”
My heart started racing. “I can talk to him?”
My dad cleared his throat. “Sorry, I should have made myself more clear. I’ll speak to him. Or…I’ll try to.” He handed me the phone.
I looked down at the screen. I recognized Matt’s number. My father had sent him a text. He said he had something important to discuss with Matt.
And Matt hadn’t responded.
He’d said nothing at all in response.
That knife that had slowly eased from my chest over the past few months was back.
Slowly twisting. I wanted to pretend it was because Matt didn’t know who was texting him.
But my dad had said it was Mr. Pruitt. It reminded me of when my dad told me that Matt had said nothing at all at my fake funeral.
Like I’d been completely erased from his mind. Like I meant nothing.
“Can you text him again?” I asked. “Maybe he didn’t see it?”
“I’ll try again soon.” He took the phone back and put it in his pocket.
My dad was a liar. I knew that. And yet…that was Matt’s number. Matt hadn’t responded. Wouldn’t he be desperate for news about me? I felt desperate every day. Although, maybe a little less now than I had at first.
I felt comfortable here with Miller. And safe, just like my dad wanted me to be.
It was why I didn’t want to move to a new place.
It was why I’d cut and dyed my hair to pacify him.
I liked it here. Which I’d never expected to.
I liked waking up to the sound of crashing waves and seagulls.
I liked seeing Miller’s smiling face every morning.
I felt…less empty now than I had when we’d first arrived.
And for some reason that made me feel guilty.
I wasn’t supposed to feel less empty. I was supposed to be trying to escape.
And I was worried my father’s accounts of back home were messing with my head.
There was definitely something I’d been thinking about over and over again.
“Those pictures you showed me before Christmas. Are you sure they were…current?” Maybe they were old.
They could have easily been taken before I moved to New York.
Kennedy had a crush on Felix. It made sense for the two of them to look close in the pictures.
And the Untouchables had all been friends before I messed everything up too.
And Matt had hooked up with a lot of girls. I knew that.
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I wouldn’t show you fake pictures.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to believe him. But I kind of did.
“I thought Matt looked sad in the one with that girl.” The picture was burning a hole in my pocket right now.
Well, half of it. I’d torn off the side with the random girl and thrown it out.
But I kept the picture of Matt with me at all times.
Because some days I needed to see the sadness in his eyes too. It made me feel less alone.
“I have more if you want to see what everyone is up to.”
I wanted to be strong enough to turn down his offer. But I wasn’t. I was eager for more information. I wanted to hear and see everything I could. I missed my friends. I missed Matt. My father was the only interaction I had with the outside world. I’d take whatever he could give me.
He pulled out a new manilla envelope and handed it to me.
I hated every picture. Because maybe I was making it up…
but Matt looked less sad. Less tired. Less…
empty. I knew I’d just thought the same thing about myself.
I was a total hypocrite. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure I looked any less sad or depressed.
I still wore that pain like a mask. Partially to protect my heart.
Partially to keep Miller in the friend zone. I was definitely still sad.
But…I smiled more now than I did at first. Miller was great at making me laugh. Every night since Christmas, while we cooked together, Miller turned the volume way up and we danced. I had fun with him. Could I really be mad at Matt for having fun too?
I paused halfway through the pictures, on one of Matt cozied up to a new girl.
I’d been cozying up to Miller too. On nights when it was hard to breathe, I climbed into his bed uninvited. And he held me without saying a word. Miller was my rock.
I’d be a hypocrite for being upset with Matt.
But I also knew what kind of man Matt was before he met me. He slept around a lot. He’d hooked up with practically the whole cheerleading team. Was he doing that now?
Yes, I’d cozied up to Miller. But I hadn’t once kissed him. I’d been loyal to Matt. He was my fiancé. Did Matt remember that? Did he remember me?
I loved Matt. I wanted him to be happy. But it stung that he was so happy without me by his side.
“Are you sure you want me to try to reach out again, angel?”
I nodded. Even if it was just to know Matt had moved on. I needed to know. I needed to know everything.
I looked out the sliding glass doors at Miller.
He was out on the deck reading. He loved nonfiction books.
I joked around with him about it. I preferred fiction because I loved living someone else’s life for even just a little bit.
Miller never acted like he needed an escape though. He was just happy here. With me.
I kept him at arm’s length because I’d made promises to Matt. It wasn’t fair to Miller. I knew that. Would everything change if Matt had moved on? Would I want more with Miller?
Yes.
I didn’t even have to think about it. There were lots of nights I wished he’d kiss me. But I knew he wouldn’t. Because I filled the silence with stories about Matt. I’d put him so far into the friend zone that there was no wiggle room.
If Matt had truly forgotten all about me though? Yeah, I’d want more with Miller. And I felt guilty for even thinking about it.
Not that it mattered. I’d never do anything with Miller until I was able to talk to Matt again.
I’d made Matt a promise. And a few months didn’t erase my feelings for him.
It just made him feel farther away. Miller was close.
That was all it was. And that’s probably what was going on with the different girls in pictures with Matt. He was just trying to not drown.
“There is one other thing,” my dad said. “I wasn’t sure whether to wait to tell you or not…but it’s important to keep you updated on the situation back home. I need you to know that I’m not putting Isabella above you. I’m going to send her away. For a while.”
I stared at him. “Like this?” At a beach house somewhere with no contact with the outside world?
“No. Not like this.” He sighed. “A psych ward. I don’t want to get your hopes up. But…I’m going to monitor her progress. I’m not making any promises. But I’m trying.”
That was definitely trying. I’d been begging him to make her go away instead of me. “Thank you.”
“Like I said, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. It’s just a first step.”