Inside The Outsider

"You got everything?" Momma asked as she stuffed Henry's bag into the trunk of the car," Yes m'am—that's everything." She closed the trunk and turned to face me," Now I'm trusting you to look out for ya brotha and sista Diana," She waved her finger loosely in my face," Granny and Daddy aren't attentive as they use to be—don't take advantage of it." I nodded my head," Yes m'am." She swiftly wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight," Georgia will be good for y'all. Before you know it, you'll graduate and can go wherever your heart desires."

I continued to hold on to her," Yeah, I suppose." We stayed like for a while until we both heard rapid footsteps," Here come ya crazy friends." Momma let me go and I turned to face my friends," Diana!" They all engulfed me into a hug," Mrs.Robinson does she really have to go!" Cheryl questioned. "Yeah we'll keep her safe and make sure she doesn't leave the house!" Lisa chimed in.

Momma shook her head," Sorry ladies, but my decision is final," she glanced down at her watch," I don't want to rush your goodbyes, but they have a train to catch." All of our heads hung low as Momma walked back to the house to get Olivia and Henry. Clarice wrapped herself around me," I'm gonna call ya everyday and ya betta answer." I lightly chuckled," I will—don't worry." As they all said their goodbyes to me, the one person I was looking for wasn't here. Where was Dally? I expected him to atleast get one more kiss before I left.

After a few minutes, Daddy and Momma came out with Olivia and Henry by their side. We all got into the car, Olivia and I had either window while Henry sat in between us. I waved out to my friends as we drove off and headed to the train station. Everyone in the car was talking, but I watched the trees and city blur into each other," Diana you alright?" Daddy asked through the rearview mirror. I glanced at him and gave a small smile," I'm fine."

Once we got to the station, Me and my siblings gave Mama and Daddy a hug and kiss. We toted our luggage to the train car and found a little spot for the three of us. Henry stayed close by my side, like he was glued to me. While Olivia sat by herself, looking out the window.

Georgia was way different from Oklahoma. My folks were everywhere, it's like we had a whole city to ourselves. It wasn't hard for me to make new friends, but it was hard not having Dally by my side. A week after we got here, he finally gave me a call and explained why didn't come and see me before we left. He said he didn't want to see me go—that it would've made him more emotional than he wanted to be. I didn't want to accept that excuse, but I missed hearing his voice and I didn't want to cause a fuss. Eventually, his calls were dwindling and dwindling every month to the point where I wasn't expecting one at all.

I was too distracted to talk to him anyway—well I keep telling myself that, but I couldn't believe my own self. But I was busy, with school, and tests, and my job at this nice little diner. I was saving up, so when I finished school, I could move back to Tulsa and be with Dally. Well that was my plan before he started to talk to me less. I figured he had moved on and found another girl to occupy his time. It stung my heart filling those thoughts in my head, but that's most likely what happened. As long as he was happy, it was okay with me.

While working at the diner, a lot of guys would give me their number. I went on a few dates with the cute ones, but the more I talked to them—the more I missed Dally. None of them had his spunk, that charismatic attitude that got him in trouble more than it helped him. I hated how he filled my mind everyday, so much that I couldn't sleep at night. I was tossing and turning worried about him, when he probably didn't care about me anymore. Anyhow, Clarice stuck by her word; she called me everyday. It didn't matter what time it was, she made sure to get a conversation out of me.

One day while we were talking, she confirmed my accusations of Dally moving on. She said she seen him talking to some fancy red head girl. A single tear fell down my face when she told me that. Fabricating ideas in your head—hurts; but seeing it come to life is a different kinda pain. Granny said I shouldn't be bottling up those emotions like that, so she made me a journal to write in. She was right, it does help. I'm writing in it as we speak. Or as I speak.