𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐀 | k. murdoch

𝟏𝟑 | 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃

"Alright, I'm ready."

"Finally."

We walked up to his junk car and he started the engine then we were on the road. I put my feet up on the dash, letting the air whip my hair back and forth. I half expected Kenickie to yell at me about my feet on the dash, but he didn't.

I turned the radio on and it landed on a rockabilly station. I love the rockabilly only if it had Elvis. And it did. "Love Me Tender" was on and I was slightly singing along.

"Love me tender, love me sweet." I hummed along. The song was slow so it wasn't the typical rockabilly but like every great artist, Elvis experimented. "Never let me go. You have made my life complete."

"And I love you so," I finished the chorus and sighed, not really feeling like singing a whole lot.

"You gotta pretty voice," Kenickie said. I turned to him, not knowing that he was listening or even caring. "You should use it more."

"Ha! Maybe with some other song, but I don't know. I don't really like to sing." I shrugged when he looked at my dumbfounded.

"Why the hell not?"

"I dunno, I guess it's not something I trained for or somethin'."

"You don't gotta be trained to do something you love."

"You kinda have to."

"Okay then," Kenickie said turning back to the road. I looked back out the window at the dark foliage whizzed by. Kenickie turned onto my street and I stood straight in my seat with my eyebrows furrowed.

"Why are we here? Kenickie, why are we at my house?" I practically yelled at him but he remained calm.

"You not gonna wear that for the rest of the year, are ya?"

I looked down at my clothes that I changed yesterday. Or was it today? I don't even remember anymore. "S'not that bad."

"Bullshit and you know it. You're getting your stuff." Kenickie pulled into a spot a few houses away from mine. I took a deep breath and got out of the car and walked up to the house.

I tried to be as stealthy as I could so that I could climb up to my window. I looked around since there wasn't a ladder-type thing that Frenchie had at her sleepover. The tree from next door would have to do. I jumped up and grabbed the branch and swung myself onto the roof. Once I landed, I waited a couple of seconds to see if anyone heard me. After a few, I shimmied my way down to the window of my supposed room. I used my foot to slid the widow up and tried my best to slither my way in but my body hung out painfully and I used my non-existent gut to hoist myself up.

Once inside, I looked around my room. There were nothing on the walls nor were there any furniture. The boxes were still packed and I was surprised that my father didn't burn them. The naked mattress was still lying on the floor.

I made my way to a box and took out my duffel bag and started packing. Underwear, shoes, pants, shirts, pjs, makeup; anything that was anything I made sure to stuff into the bag. Once I was sure I was done, I looked at my pack. It was still half full. I was always sort of a floater, I never had any possessions and I knew how to take care of clothes so I could wear them three days in a row without them smelling or looking disgusting.

I zipped up my bag and slid out the window, closing it. I pulled myself onto the roof and jumped onto the tree. I hung on the branch by my legs since I miscalculated the landing. I was face to face with the window looking into the living room of my house. I titled my head, looking at the scene before me. My father was passed out on his huge chair in front of the TV still playing and my mother was struggling to keep awake, her eyelids betraying her.

I sighed and climbed down the tree branch. I ran past the front of the house and I was glad that we didn't own any dogs. Kenickie was waiting for my in his car, smoking a cigarette. I threw my duffel bag at him and it hit him on is side.

"Aye! What the hell?" He jolted straight and looked at me through his aviators.

"It's nighttime, you look like an idiot with those glasses on." I jumped into the car and Kenickie started up the engine. We rode for a little before I was really itching to get out of my clothes.

"Hey, uh, can I change?" I asked.

"Sure," Kenickie mumbled, pressing the buttons of the radio while keeping his eyes on the road every five seconds. The way the cigarette hung out of his mouth made me dizzy.

I opened my bag and grabbed some jeans. I looked around for a plain t-shirt, but I couldn't find one. I grunted and threw my bag down on my lap and turned to Kenickie.

"Do you got a shirt I can borrow?" I asked him.

He turned to look at me but I couldn't see behind his aviators. "Sure, it's in the back."

I looked behind in the backseat and pulled out a plain white shirt from a paper bag. I unbuckled the seat belt and slid into the backseat. It was a little easier since the top was off.

I took my shirt and pants off, leaving me in my undergarments. I looked to the front see and saw that Kenickie was looking at me from above his aviators in the mirror.

"Eyes on the road," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Kenickie said, turning back to the road. I slipped on my jeans and rolled them up a little since they were too big. I slipped on a black canvas belt and grabbed Kenickie's shirt and stuffed it into my pants and it dropped over the belt. I went ahead and put my tennis shoes on and let my hair down. I ran a hand through my beach curls and took a breath. I crawled back into the front seat and sat down with a huff.

"You good?" Kenickie asked without looking at me. I nodded and slipped a leather jacket on. I took out a compact mirror and reapplied my lipstick.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," Kenickie said. He took a moment to look at me. "You just look laid back."

"Aren't I always laid back?" I kicked my feet up onto the dash.

"Sure you are Charles, sure you are."