Away. Part 2

"It's beautiful," she hushes, and I squint my eyes to try and see what she sees. Grabbing my hand, she starts pulling on me. "Come on! Let's go inside!"

"What? I don't know if it's safe," I say.

"Of course it's safe," Rosemary scoffs, though she doesn't know. "Don't be a chicken!"

"Trespa.s.sing, why not?" I sigh. "I swear, if the house falls on us when we're in there I'm using you as a shovel to dig us out." I let her pull me inside, careful where I put my feet. When she opens the door a great wave of dust and mildew hits me, and I start coughing.

Now that it's light out instead of dark, you can clearly see the outline of the house. Wood floors match the old fas.h.i.+oned wallpaper, only a few discarded paintings and broken pieces of furniture lying around the empty s.p.a.ces.

"Wow, it's so old," Rosemary says. "This place had to have been built in the twenties."

"It definitely hasn't been updated since." I kick a discarded chair leg across the room. A cabinet is slightly cracked open and, curious, I nudge it with my foot. "Whoa," I say, eyes widening as I look at all the dusty, unopened bottles. "Somebody liked to drink back in the day."

"It has an upstairs!" she says, pointing. She starts running up before I can stop her.

"Rosie, we don't know how stable this place is! Be careful!" Just as I say that my foot breaks through one of the stairs and I struggle to pull myself up through it. "Ugh." This girl is going to kill me one of these days.

"Found the bathroom," she says when I crawl into the hallway. She looks out a dirty window and says, "It's in better condition than I thought."

"I guess it's not too bad," I say fairly. "But it needs a lot of work. A lot of work."

"It'd be a fun project," she says, heading back down the stairs. "I can't wait to start on it."

"You need to get the money, hun," I say, carefully following her, grabbing onto the bal.u.s.ter that shakes for dear life as I start back down the stairs. "How about you get that degree first?"

"I will, one step at a time," she says and we walk out the front door together, back through the field and towards her house. "I've got to finish up my a.s.sociate's." She pauses. "And you need to pick what you want to do, too."

The tilled mounds crunch beneath my feet. "I've got all the time in the world."

"Noah..." she hesitates, and I freeze. I know what's coming. "We've been out of high school a year. It's time to start deciding."

"It's not like I've been doing nothing. I've been working nonstop. I've got tons of money put away," I say, and I do. I have thousands, more than I know what to do with right now.

"Then start putting it towards your education," she says. "You can't do anything with a high school diploma anymore, Noah. I know you love working on the farm, but it's not going to be able to support you forever." She looks away, and whispers, "Or support me."

"I don't want to rush into anything just because it's what everyone expects me to do," I tell her. "I'm working on a plan."

"What, Noah? You told me you were going to school during the winter semester, and then you told me you'd start in the summer, and summer's almost here." She takes a deep breath. "I just want to make sure you're not going to keep putting it off."

"I don't know what I want." I hate this question. I hate the constant fear of not knowing, the constant wondering and debating of what I needed to do with my life. The last thing I needed was my girlfriend to rag on me about it, too.

"Just go with me for a few cla.s.ses next fall," she begs me. "At least it's a start."

"I just want to love you. Isn't that enough for now?" I snap quickly at her, and she falls silent. I look away from her, past all the fields and trees and out towards the road, wis.h.i.+ng I could be on it now. Behind the wheel of a car and in the garage working on them was the only place I felt like life made sense. The rest of it, and its decisions and commitments, was too much to deal with sometimes. But then I thought of Rosemary and what she was sacrificing. Sometimes I felt guilty and wondered if she was going to community college just because she wanted to be near me. But there'd only be one more year of that, and then she'd have to go to a university. I didn't know what we were going to do then.

I know she's right. I have to pick something soon, whether I'm ready or not. I feel like the answer's right in front of me. But what is it?

We hit gravel again, the road back to Rosemary's house. I see her walking gingerly on the rocks and I ask, "Feet hurt?"

"Just a bit. I've had a couple of rough s.h.i.+fts at the diner lately," she tells me. Like I don't know. Rosemary practically runs that restaurant. Full time student and waitress. I couldn't describe how proud I was of her. Those sandals she was wearing wasn't doing her any favors when it came to walking on the jagged rocks. "Here," I say, and I bend down. She jumps on my back and I piggyback her to her house, not letting her down until we're at her door. By this time, it's starting to get dark.

"You can come in," Rosemary says. "Unless you have to be home?"

"When do I ever have to be home?" I ask. I follow her through the neat kitchen, past the perfectly vacuumed carpets and well kept furniture. It was nice to be in a place where people actually kept up on the cleaning for once. I'm surprised everything looks so nice after the cookout, but I figure after what happened, people must've stayed to help clean up. Peter and Donna have already went to bed, probably trying to get rest from a long day. I follow Rosemary up to her bedroom and she turns on the TV, popping in a movie. I go to lay down on her bed and she follows me, collapsing on the mattress. I open my arms and hold her close, laughing at the film. Rose doesn't laugh as much though, and this is her favorite movie. I wonder if she's just tired or if something's bothering her.

By the time the movie's finished it's nearing ten at night. Rosemary turns off the TV and turns towards me, snuggling into my chest. "You should probably go," Rosemary says. "I don't want you falling asleep on the way home."

"I'll leave in a minute," I say, yawning. "I don't want to go yet."

She smiles up at me, her eyes glittering in the darkness. "You're my everything, you know that?"

"Same here," I say, and I give her a soft kiss, which she returns affectionately. We continue, her lips so soft against mine, so sweet. I've never tasted anything in this world better. I'd do anything for this girl. I put a hand on her cheek and stroke her hair back, the kisses starting off light, and then deeper, more pa.s.sionate.

She pulls away tenderly, running her fingers across my lips, my bangs. "I love you," she says happily.

I put my hand on her back and pull her closer so I can feel her heart beat against mine, our heads touching. I kiss her forehead. "I love you too."

Chapter Two.

Early morning rising. Birdsong can be heard through my window, dawn light trickling in past the blinds and creating a halo upon the face of the one I love so much. At first I believe I'm dreaming, believe I'm in a sacred and secret wonderland in which Noah never has to leave, never has to go home. But then I realize that I'm awake, that it is very much the next day and that Noah is still here. I hate to wake him, but I must.

"Noah," I say, shaking him gently. "Noah, get up. We fell asleep."

He rouses, his eyelids drooping. He looks around my room in confusion, then at me, before wrapping his arm clumsily around me and pus.h.i.+ng me back down into bed. "Rosie. Stay," he grunts.

"I have school, and you have work," I say, pus.h.i.+ng his arm off of me. "We have to get going. Come on."

He moans and then rolls over to face the wall. I give him an effective kick, which he ignores. I throw my arms up and say, "Whatever. I'm getting dressed."

I go to my dresser and start throwing some clothes on, not really caring what I look like. It's community college and besides, I'm taken. I start brus.h.i.+ng my hair, applying some mascara before turning back to witness the state of my boyfriend.

He's rolled back over to look at me, the blanket covering up half his face, his expression mischievous. He looks so darn cute. Too bad I have to ruin it. "Get up!" I shout, grabbing a pillow and whopping him in the face. "We're both going to be late!"

"I don't care," he whines, and he takes a pillow and pitches it back at me. It misses."You're terrible," I tell him. "If you're late, don't blame me." I hit him with a pillow again.

He finally sits up with a loud yawn. "Can I take a shower?" he asks, running a hand through his rumpled hair. We're both a mess in the morning. I sigh and say, "Yes, you can. Just don't use all of Peter's shampoo."

"I won't use any of it. He's likely to strangle me if he finds out I've been taking showers at your house." Noah makes a choking motion with his hands and gets up, looking around. "Where are my pants?"

I throw my old clothes in the hamper carelessly. "Why is that always the question?"

"Sorry. I get hot during the night." He stumbles out of my bedroom and I head downstairs to start making breakfast. I don't ever make eggs unless Noah is here, because it's too much work to do for myself. Peter and my mom are always gone by the time I get up. Unless Noah or one of my friends are with me, I spend most of my time here alone. It's pleasant to have somebody actually be here in the morning for once.

I pick at my breakfast while Noah inhales his. He's got a long work day ahead of him as always, and if I don't make sure he eats, he probably won't. I don't ask if his dad knows where he is.

"Thanks Rosie," he says when he's done, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and then bending down to give me a kiss. "I hate to eat and run, but-"

"Go," I say. "You need this job."

He gives me a quick hug and then runs outside to his car, firing it up and racing down the driveway. His driving scares me sometimes. I shake my head as I take another sip of coffee. I'll hear about Noah's car still being here in the morning from Peter if I don't work late tonight, which I probably will. At the diner, there's always something to do. I get up and grab my bag, heading out the door to the c.r.a.ppy car Noah always has to fix for me. When I pull out of the driveway I run over the side of the ditch by the road. I'm not the best driver.

I think about what happened yesterday and a little cloud of gloom seems to settle over my head. Yesterday of all days. But why did it have to be any day? Why did my uncle have to return and start something, why couldn't he have left well enough alone?

But it was never well enough with our family. The McGowan's had plenty of skeletons in their closet and were always insistent on piling the bones into everybody else's. It made me sick, literally. It was a good thing Noah had managed to convince me last year to wean off the pills the doctors were feeding me by the bucketload and go to therapy instead. It helped, but sometimes the weekly sessions were enough to make me think I was a faulty piece of work.

Noah wasn't exactly all there either, which made me feel better. Even though I had been through a lot, I felt like he had a better reason for being broken, with his mother being dead since he was a child. But even that hadn't changed him too much.

I bit my lip, wondering about my uncle's words. Marcus said I would pay, and it would be soon. But hadn't I already suffered enough? Hadn't my mother and I gone through enough of my father's endless games? His disorder had gotten so bad I hadn't seen him in over three years. Not that it mattered, because the state required that he be supervised when he saw me anyway. Long ago I had hoped the doctors and hospitals would help him to get better, but now I knew better. My father never stuck with the prescribed plan, and it was obvious he didn't love me enough to do so to try and get better. I was done dealing with him.

I grab the necklace Noah got for me. Whatever happened, it didn't matter. I could get through it with Noah by my side. But how much longer would that be for? How much longer could he deal with a crazy person like me, deal with my insane family? Noah was strong, but he couldn't carry all my baggage forever...

"Cut it out!" I shouted to myself, and I pulled into the college parking lot. I had to stop doing that. Thinking that he was a goner, thinking he was going to leave me. It was a constant cycle of worry and pain that I didn't need right now. I just needed to trust him. Trust that he loved me, and trust that we were strong enough to outlast anything. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel and got out of my car. I was so done with this roller coaster.

As I began my walk to cla.s.s I shook my head. n.o.body and nothing was strong enough to outlast the McGowan's. But if I loved Noah, I had to believe we could. I had to try.

"Lady, I need more ice!"

"Can we have a couple boxes?"

"This isn't fully cooked, we want a refund! Where's your manager?"

"I'll get right on it!" I shout to all of them at once, carrying a full tray of food in one hand, dirty dishes in the other. Every table at the diner is full tonight, and there's only two waitresses on staff...me and Kendra.

And right now, Kendra is nowhere to be seen.

I grit my teeth, running around to help as many tables as I can and ignoring the ones that scream at me as I run by. I feel like I'm in the throes of chaos. "Rosemary, what are you doing, this food has been waiting to go out for ages," my boss says as I whirl in the kitchen to place another order.

"I'm sorry, I'll get it right out!" I tell him, grabbing four plates at once and hurrying out the door. I love my job, I really do, but Friday nights are always the worst. I glance at the silverware and realize we're going to run out very soon, and I have no time to wrap any more. The dishes are going to take me an hour and a half to finish, if I don't get any help. All the cooks are busy, so unless Kendra comes in...

"Where have you been?" I ask as I watch her walk leisurely into the dining area, putting her ap.r.o.n on casually. "I've been taking care of your tables."

She shrugs and says, "Sorry. Who all do I have left?"

"Just the old lady and the family of four by the window," I tell her, my face burning. "All the rest of them left."

"Did you get my tips?" she asks, hand extended.

"Yes." Wanting to claw her eyes out but not wanting to get fired, I reach into my pocket and pull out the money I made, but that's technically hers. She pockets about twenty dollars worth of cash and says, "Okay. I guess I can take it from here."

Yeah, because I'm picking up the other ten tables! I want to scream, but I keep quiet. Kendra is the queen of Lousdale Lounge and the bosses daughter. Anything goes when she's giving the orders around here.

Two hours later the customers are gone and everything's back in order. I'm soaking wet from was.h.i.+ng dishes so fast and my feet are killing me, but I'm happy. I made a lot of money tonight. Miraculously I manage to get out on time, but it's right on the dot. I'm practically crawling to my car. Every single fiber in my muscles ache. All I want to do is fall into bed.

The lights are all off when I pull in the driveway. Confused I go inside, turn on the lights and read the note pinned to the fridge.

Peter and I are going out to dinner. We'll be out late. Lock the door.

- Mom I throw my keys on the counter. Typical. n.o.body's here when I get home, either. I'd almost rather be yelled at. Taking my work s.h.i.+rt off and tossing it into the laundry room I throw on an old Lousdale High t-s.h.i.+rt and a jacket that's in the clean basket. I'll sleep in my jeans tonight, I don't care. It's more work than I'm willing to go through to change them.

I throw myself on the couch and turn on the TV. I'm too irritated to try and sleep right now. As I begin flipping through random channels, I can't seem to focus on anything but that note on the counter. I miss my parents and the way it used to be. But ever since I got older and out of high school, things changed. I'm not quite sure how or why, but they did, and I've been on a rocky relations.h.i.+p with them ever since.

Sometimes, it felt like the only one who really loved me was Noah.

I sigh and throw the remote down, giving up. I go to the phone and call Noah's number, but he doesn't pick up. I keep calling, three different times, but he doesn't answer.

I throw the phone down and gaze off into s.p.a.ce, now over the top with anger. I bet n.o.body cares. n.o.body gives a c.r.a.p that I'm here all alone...

The phone rings. I dash to pick it up and then answer, my voice a sharp, short note. "h.e.l.lo?"

It's Noah. "Hey Rosie. Blow up my phone, will ya? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I say, beginning to calm down. "I just wanted to talk to you."

There's a bit of silence at the other end. "Well, um...I'm hanging out with Michael at the moment. Can I call you back tomorrow?"

Rage flickers up in my insides, but I push it back down. "Fine. Sure. Go ahead. I don't care. I'll see you later."

"No, now you're getting upset. Rosie, what's bothering you? You don't sound right. Tell me. Is it about yesterday?"

"I've told you for the last time Noah, I'm fine!" I say, and my voice gets louder than I want it to. "I don't care about yesterday!"

"Don't snap at me," he says, and his voice gets angry too. "And don't lie either. You do care, or else you wouldn't be acting this way."

"I'm not lying! I just had a hard day at work, that's all," I say, and my insides squirm. "It's not like you care though."

"Just because you had a hard day doesn't mean you should take it out on me," he says.

"I'm not! I'm trying to tell you how I feel and you don't want to listen."

"When did I ever say that-" Noah makes an aggravated noise into the phone. "Rosie, I'm not going to do this tonight."

"You're the one making it an issue. Nothing's wrong," I tell him.

"Yes, there is! If there wasn't you wouldn't be acting this way."

"You're imagining things."

"I'm not the only one."

"Oh, so I'm crazy now, I see how it is," I hiss.

"You said it, not me. You're the one who keeps repeating it nonstop."