I Am Grey by Jane Washington

Author:Jane Washington [Washington, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-31T04:00:00+00:00

16

Demented

I slept in the RV that night, ignoring the note that Duke had stuck to my screen door. It was folded on my kitchen table in the morning, still unread. I knew it was from him because it was a used envelope, folded in half. He’d written his message on the back of it and then spilled beer over the front of it. I could even see a tiny scrap of tissue stuck to the paper, where he had tried to mop up the spill. I swept it into the trash can with my banana peel from breakfast.

I avoided school that day, and the next. By the time I woke up on Friday, I had a few missed calls from Alicia, but she still hadn’t replied to my text message.

There was also a message from Jean.

Mom said to give you some space. I say fuck mom. What are you doing?

I thought carefully about how to reply. Or … I tried to. The pros and cons and predictions kept slipping through my fingers, leaving a muddled mess of indecipherable emotion behind. Instead of answering, I headed to the shower, staying in there for longer than usual. Afterwards, I wrapped myself up in an oversized t-shirt and carried my cell outside. There was a tiny square of concrete right outside the RV, an awning stretching above and a small garden edging it. Upon further inspection, I found a fold-up chair tucked away in a compartment at the back of the RV, along with a camping lamp and some mosquito repellent.

In the interest of doing things to avoid answering the message, I pulled back the awning a little so that the sun could hit the little concrete platform, and then I sat in the fold up chair and waited for the sun to finish drying me off. Gradually, my wet hair sprang up into a wild mess of curls, and I couldn’t ignore the message anymore.

Eventually, I dragged myself back inside and typed out a response.

Your mom was worried. Asked me to keep an eye on you. I didn’t feel comfortable staying there anymore.

I sent the message, and then stared at the screen before quickly typing out and sending another.

I will still keep an eye on you, but not for her.

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed in my hand. Jean was calling. I continued staring at the screen, making no move to pick up the call. Another message flashed across the screen while it rang.

Jean: Pick up, asshole.

I accepted the call. “That was rude.”

“You were sitting there staring at your phone, ignoring my call. That’s rude.”

“No, that’s just indecisive.”

“Why are you indecisive about talking to me?”

“I thought you might be angry,” I admitted, an odd feeling starting to turn in my stomach.

“Well, I’m not. If I had been you, I would have done the same thing. I appreciate it. What are you doing today?”

“What day is it?”

“Friday.”

“I’m not going to school.”

On the other end of the phone, Jean scoffed. “Yeah, I get that, since I’m at school and you’re not here.

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