Miss Independent

Chapter Eight: Question

"I can't stay here." I say.

"Why?" Mom asks. "Katherine, sit down." She points to the table. "Don't be ridiculous. What the hell do you mean you're moving out? I'm calling your doctor."

"Sophia, calm down." Dad says, giving me his undivided attention. "Explain."

"You guys don't understand." I say quietly. I hear Liam mute the TV in the living room and I become well aware that everybody is listening to me. "I can't stay here. I can't even go to the grocery store without running into my ex boyfriend, or somebody I sold drugs to, or somebody who sold me drugs. The police look at me as if they're ready to put me in handcuffs."

Dad sits down across from he.

"Katie, where are you wanting to go? You don't have a job and you don't have any money."

"I don't know. Chicago. New York. I just...I need to be alone."

"No, this is a bad idea."

"I'll get a job and pay my own bills. I won't do anything stupid. I just want to be able to go to the store without running into somebody."

"You want a fresh start." Mom whispers.

"Exactly."

"Katherine, you need money for a down deposit. You don't just walk int, find a place, and get it. You have no credit and no money." Dad says.

"Then I'll mow lawns until I can or something. I don't know, I just know I can't stay here. I just...feel like the person I was before, even though I'm not. And i know none of you mean to, but when I get a headache and go to get some Advil, you're looking at me like I'm going to drink the damn bottle."

They both just look sad, studying me.

"What's your plan?"

"All I need to know is...will you guys pay for the gas to get me there, and let me take the car you guys got me?"

"You want to take the CRV?" Dad asks.

"You guys bought it for me and paid or off. It's in my name."

"Dad studies me and Mom is starting to say no, but suddenly, Dad speaks.

"Alright." He says.

"What?" Mom gasps. "You're agreeing to his? Jacob, this is absurd!"

"This is the first time she's looking excited about anything in years."

"So you're going to let her take the car, drive herself to New York with no job, and then what? Where will you stay?"

"In the car." I say as if it's obvious.

"Hell no." Mom says. "No. You're staying here where you're safe."

"I'm not happy here!" I argue.

"If you get a job interview, I'll fly you out there and fly you back. If you get the job, you can go."

"No. Jacob, this is a horrible, horrible idea!"

"On one condition." Dad continues.

"What's that?"

"You have to be moved into an apartment by the new year."

It's already early December.

"Will you co-sign the lease?" I ask.

"Fine, but I swear Katherine, if I have to pay a dime of your rent-"

"You won't." I say, and I mean it.