Closets Aren't Just For Clothes...

Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.

"Wait, Noah, aren't my parents supposed to be coming over for dinner tonight?" I ask, as he practically drags me down the front steps outside. What have I gotten myself into? Noah's completely deranged.

He nods. "Yeah, but I miss dinner all the time, it's not a big deal."

"My parents would freak if I wasn't-," I tell him.

"Again, that's why it's fun," he chuckles. "Are you coming, or are you going to be daddy's little princess forever?"

I take a deep breath. "Fine, but nothing illegal, I mean it Noah," I warn him.

Noah laughs. "What exactly do you think I do in my spare time?"

Besides every girl on the planet I'm not really sure and I frankly I don't care, I answer in my head. I shrug, "I don't know, I've heard things," I tell him.

He chuckles, "didn't we have this discussion a week ago, about people lying?"

Yeah, but when it comes to you, it's you who's the liar. "Yeah, but-"

"You know what your problem is?" Noah asks me.

"Oh yes, tell me what my problem is, since, you're apparently Jesus now. What is my problem, Noah?" I question annoyed.

"I'm not Jesus, I'm the guy with the big ark, remember?" Noah says, putting an emphasis on the word 'big'. He smiles. "You take everything way too seriously. You follow all of the rules. If you don't loosen up a little, you're going to miss out on a lot of things."

"But, life is serious," I state. Yeah, I bet you don't have comeback to that one do you Jesus-Noah. We come up to the bus stop and sit on the green, metal bench. I don't know how long we'll be waiting here, like I said before, I've never ridden the bus. My parents don't approve of public transportation, they think that it's low class. If I have anywhere to go, besides school, because I can walk there, our driver, Benjamin, he's like forty-two and has been our driver for years.

Noah shakes his head. "No, it's not. At the rate you're going, you're going to end up like our mothers. Married to some stick-up-ass politician like our fathers, spending shit loads of money on pointless things, and making pictures of your unborn grandchildren."

I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes. "Obviously you don't remember who your father is because, you're going to end up like one of those stick-up-ass politicians," I throw at him.

He laughs. "No, that's the difference between me and you, babe. You let them get to you, I, on the other hand, don't."

I roll my eyes at how wrong he is. I don't let my them 'get to me'. How would they 'get to me'?

A couple minutes later and large bus with advertising signs covering the sides pulls up to the curb. I think that I'm having second thoughts. I wonder if people actually pee on the bus. That's so...unsanitary.

Noah stands up and looks back at me when I don't. "Are you chickening out, Emi?"

"It's just-"

He walks closer and grabs my hand, "they don't actually pee on bus," he tells me.

Right when we step on I hear, "Noah, how have you been!" come from an older, short man behind the large steering wheel. "Who have you got with you there?"

Does Noah actually know this man? Does he really ride the bus that often? Wow...Noah has bus friends...?

Noah smiles. "Hey, Tom, this is Emily," he says, introducing us while dropping coins in the tin bucket. "I guess you could call her a...friend?" Noah says, with no feeling in the word 'friend'.