He only glances at me, confused. "Drop you off where?" He asks, as if he hadn't heard me right the first time.

"Here—the park." I nodded, motioning to a bench that sat on my side of the truck. The crease between his eyebrows remained. I shake my head, laughing a little. "Just pull over."

He does so, albeit hesitantly, bringing the vehicle to a stop. I hope out, making sure I have my phone to keep me busy and making my way to the bench. I have the time to sit on it and turn on my phone before he processes what I'm doing and rounds the car. "So... what? This is your plan?" he paused, looking around before back at me, "...sitting?"

I shrug, "Pretty much."

"What— no, I'm not leaving you alone on some random park bench in the dark while you're drunk. That's a missing persons report waiting to happen."

"Then take me to McDonalds."

"What's your fucking obsession with McDonald's?"

"We'll what else so you want to do? Oh! Can we go to that place that lets you make your own mugs?!" I deflate a little when I realize the time, "Never mind it's closed by now. What about the library? We can go read. That doesn't cost money!"

"Oh my god." He mumbles. "Not everything is about you. I have shit to do. I don't have time to go read a fucking novel, or make a fucking mug!"

I flinch a little, then stand and walk towards the truck, "Fine. Take me to the library then. I'll go read by myself." I scoff.

He scoffs right back at me. "This is what I'm talking about. The library is twenty damn minutes out of my way. You're so entitled." He takes a step closer to me and I begin to feel dizzy again. "You live in fucking Mayella land, oblivious to everything else around you. Well breaking news! The world doesn't revolve around you!" When all i do in response is stare at him through glassy eyes, he shakes his head and scoffs quietly to himself. "Get in the car and go home."

I blink to rid myself of tears but it only makes one fall. "Just leave then. I'm fine here." I rasp, quickly wiping away my tear and sitting back on the bench.

He sighs and frustratedly rubs a hand down his face. "Why won't you just let me drive you home? Why are you being so difficult?"

Another tear falls but I wipe it away just as fast as the last. "I don't want to go home." I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.

"For fucks sakes." He mutters to himself under his breath, "get in the truck." I sniffle and do as he says.

҉

I peek up from my book, grinning to myself as I watch him. He's sitting with his back against the shelf across from me, his ankles crossed over themselves. He's holding a copy of the love hypothesis, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Shut up." He scowls, without looking up from the words on his page.

"I didn't say anything." I say, looking up from my copy of Layla.

"Well, don't."

"I won't."

҉

"This one." I say, pointing to my short, gravel driveway. Killian nods, turning slowly into it and pulling up to my front door.

"This is where you live?" I don't think it was supposed to sound judgmental, but thats how it comes off.

"Yeah." I smile softy. I'm proud of where we live. Sure it's not gorgeous or big, but I'm a nineteen year old girl supporting herself, her father and his multiple addictions. We each have a bedroom, we have heat and water and we rarely go hungry. That's enough for me. "Thank you for dropping me off."

He nods.

"And for taking me to the library."

He raises a brow at me. "What did I say about that?"

"Right. Never talk about it again. Got it." I nod sternly, grabbing the bag from the store with the two books Killian bought me inside. "But thank you." I say softy.

I almost see a smile on his lips before it disappears completely. It only lasts a fraction of a second. I probably imagined it.

I get out and make my way to my door, trying to open it as quietly as I can. Only once I open it and get inside does Killian start to drive off.

I watch his truck pull out and turn the corner through the window on my door, with a small smile before turning around to go to bed. Only when I do, I scream.

My dad stands there next to the living room window, also watching Killian leave.

I laugh nervously, "You startled me."

He doesn't look away from the window "Who was that boy to you."

I gulp, why isn't he asleep? "That's just my friend from work."

His head snaps to mine, "friend?"

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