to head home. I stopped when I got to my car, staring curiously at the windshield and the piece of folded paper tucked under the wiper. I set the boxes with the burgers on the top of the car and grabbed the paper, opening it up to see hastily scrawled black ink: Stop ignoring me. Is it taken care of yet? I crumpled up the paper, stuffing it into my purse and then grabbing the burgers and getting into the car. I hadn’t heard from Derek since he’d confronted me that night at the diner and I wasn’t about to deal with him now. Maybe if he actually wanted to sit and have a civilized conversation about what I was going to do, I would talk to him, but he didn’t want to hear anything unless it was what he wanted me to do. I just turned on the car and headed home. Home. I guess my home was the little apartment I shared with Brandon now. I hadn’t been to my parents’ house since the night they kicked me out. I’d already gone through the clothes Shay had packed in the duffle bag and I’d done a load of laundry at the Seaver’s house, but I wanted to get my things. I wanted to talk to my parents. I wanted them to forgive me. I found myself turning right when I should’ve turned left, guiding myself to my old street. I could see my house in the distance and I slowed the car down, inching by it. The lights were on and I knew they were probably eating dinner or had just finished. I imagined Shay doing the dishes or upstairs playing her violin while my parents finished up with the kitchen clean up. Silent tears streaked down my face as I focused on my house and for a moment, I completely stopped the car, staring at the front door wanting to run up, swing it open and demand to know how they could treat me like this. I wanted to ask them how they could just throw their daughter away. I didn’t though. I just sat there a few moments longer before wiping my eyes and then pushed on the accelerator, not wanting to look at it another second.
