Chapter 45

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So, what are your opinions on Selena and Julian? Have they changed?

Also, thank you for the beautiful cover by @writerschic

F O R T Y—F I V E

      AS IT TURNS out, a good night's rest and half a day later wasn't enough to send me marching over to Ryder's house. Not to mention, I wasn't too confident I could find the right address after my second visit, hyped up on hypothermia a few weeks ago. Instead, I spent the entire day cooped up in my room at my lonely foster home, up until Roger informed me he was having a poker game tonight and to either stay silent upstairs or out of the house. Of course, going out was a much better alternative to listening to drunken men yell at each other all night.

      I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. 10:46pm. His game should've been over by now, but showing up to the house unexpected sounded like a horrible idea. I didn't want a repeat of the last time I showed up in front of his poker buddies.

I switched over to my contacts and skimmed through the names until I found the one I was looking for. Within seconds, the caller ID labeled 'Asshole' shone on the screen with a muffled dial tone. I lifted the phone to my ear.

"What do you want?"

I huffed. "Really? No, 'Hey, Skye, how are you'?" There was silence. "Fine. When can I come back?"

"Tomorrow," he answered shortly. "Find somewhere else to stay tonight."

My temper flared. "Are you kidding me? All of my clothes are there—"

"Hold on," he cut me off. I heard muffled conversation between him and somebody else before he returned his attention to me. "Borrow somebody else's, or sleep in the clothes you're wearing, I don't care."

"I don't have anywhere to go!"

There was muffled speech on the other line again before I heard Roger say, "I know, I'll be right there!" He then huffed and said, "Well, that sucks, Skye. Don't you have any friends? Stay with one of them."

I opened my mouth to protest, but a beep signaling he'd hung up rang through my ear. I groaned loudly and resisted the urge to throw my phone. Roger was a selfish prick who didn't deserve a license to foster. How the hell did he even get that thing, anyway? Who would give one to him?

I pulled my phone back out and tried dialing Tyler, but the line went straight to voicemail. Either his phone was dead or off, and I assumed the latter if he was with Dakota.

Next, I considered calling Selena, but remembered she was headed to Cyrus' after school, and I'm sure the two of them probably didn't want extra company. From what I'd seen between the two of them, that had a long road ahead of them that they needed to go through without me in the way.

I momentarily considered calling Ryder, but my stubbornness got the best of me. If he wanted to shut me out, then I wasn't going to ask for his help. He'd already picked me up in the middle of the night once, and to be completely honest, I wasn't sure my dignity could take it a second time.

So, as a last resort, I called Jay. At this point, I was getting admittedly frustrated. All of them were avoiding me, and I didn't do a single thing to deserve it. Frustration built up with each ring on the phone, and by the time my third call to him asked if I wanted to leave a voicemail, I had a few frustrated words to share.

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped, admittedly angry. "Would you just call me back? Are you all really that selfish that you can't even call me back to see if it's an emergency I'm calling for? What if I was stuck outside in the dark, in a storm again, and possibly dying? What if I was mugged? What if I got shot, just like Tyler and was left bleeding out on the street because not one single one of you could pick up the phone for two seconds and see if I was calling for an emergency! What the hell is wrong with—"

The phone beeped. I ran out of room on the voicemail.

I screamed in frustration and did exactly what I shouldn't have done. I threw my phone on the ground.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before releasing it through my nose. After I calmed down some, I crouched down to pick up the small device, and cringed at the large crack across the screen. I tried to turn the screen on and sighed in relief when it worked. I hadn't broken the phone, just the screen.

I was just about ready to march over to Jay's house and beat his door down when I realized that I did, in fact, know exactly where Jay lives. I really could just march over there and beat on the door until he answered. Or until the neighbors called the police.

And that's exactly what I was going to do.

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