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Chapter 3 Going Home

Word Count: 7546    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

n the face. And then

ver the wooden paneling, lovingly stroking the built in cassette tape player. I clutch my face a

e we going to scho

lammed into the headrest, face shoved into hands. I

don"t think Mon

g irrationally? Honestly, I think

ie, and lean against the cool windshield. "Okay, okay." I bite my quivering upper lip and puff out my ches

out of this mud pit. Brown splatters the window and hides the streaks o

nto the seat. "School. Why? Why did this

i yelps at this, too, fumbling over me for the duster in the glove compartment. "We could identify him by the bags under his eyes. Also, qu

k of my wrist. It"s a habit, scratching down every time one of my merry band knocks me a pe

e my memoir title, right behind "Def

eah, sludge.

e hand, Monet. And...and you don"t look weird or anything, just kind of sludgy, but we should still take you to the doctor." He shuts t

otta take a shower. Let"s just go home. T

still a little shaggy. Eyes, a dark brown. Skin, an even tan of the sun-kissed variety most guys here sport. He even smells

, Mo", are

ng his perfectly imperfect waves. He groans. That"s f

with me. They"re my hostages." I rub my hands together, forcing a mua-ha-ha even though this is poor timing for a mua-ha-ha. Kai frowns do

roads and onto the paved, smooth ones. "Smooth" is a term I use generously here. The car thumps, again an

, gripping the steering wheel

ity buildings and murals fly by. Seagulls perch on the street lamps and caw down at us like crows. The city is otherwise silent. Of course, it is. The heroes are gone, the only trace left of t

e about is getting some stupid material

reat. You"re just a

gs, huh?" My hands flail up and my fingers skim the ceiling. The metal screams and felt flakes tumble down on my he

ertip sized de

" My palms are sweaty and my face is flushed. If my ca

car back around, and pulls into

*

dically healthy, a pity about the almost drowning part though, and you may want further testing to make sure those chemicals didn"t bind to your DNA and give you, like, cancer by unhealthy mutation. Th

o wonder if any of this is happening and oh my gosh school. Tomorrow. I thunk my head on the dash and groa

s in his usual cloaked black cape. "It looks like som

mbling in the back seat, so pale he looks like he"s gone into rigor mortis. I lift my fist, mouth my apologies to Finn, and ba

ffer him a measly pat, the only thing I can

to Masquerade"s long wooden mask. That grin still gives me chills. "

ill you." The car trembles underneath my feet. The seats have begun to shake and whir. My knees knock, my teeth rattling. My heart is poundin

"t even be able to function in Trig tomorrow if

er my chin, and jerks my face out the window. I yelp. Wind whips my hair back and stings my eyes. A tear spla

shouts. "

s away with a shaking fist. "Whatev

"s still screaming. The engine shudders as a panicking Kai slows the car to a more legal speed. Finn squeezes his arms around his chest, shuts his eye

Kai as he pulls into the parki

d in a shaking, cupped hand. Sweat greases my fingers and eyelids.

gives another moo-like

mistic, t

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