Life in Hiding

25 ~ Almost

"We were finishing The Office." She shrugs. "If I watched it without him, Z would've pouted."

I cough to cover a laugh. "The things we do for Netflix and chill."

*****

An hour later, we leave the diner with full bellies. Stopping in the parking lot, I call out to Chloe. "Want a ride home?"

"Wes is going to–" She starts.

"Look, Graham lives further away and my mom wants me home in 15." Wes cuts in. "If pretty boy could help me out, it'd save me a grounding."

"Anything for you." I wink and he flips me off.

"But Graham lives closer to Sage." She argues.

"Bye, Chloe." Wes climbs into his car.

Raising a brow, I wait for Chloe to relent. After watching all of our friends drive off, she moves for my car. Buckling up, I head for her house, already knowing the path.

"I'm sorry your night sucked." She offers, breaking our silence.

"It's fine." I shrug. "Everyone has a horror story." Hopefully this is my only one.

Parking in front of her house, I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. "Well, here we are."

Going for the door, she hesitates. "Do... do you want to come in?"

Glancing between the front door and her, I gulp. "Sure."

Sending Scar a quick text, I follow her up the rickety front porch. Chloe shoves the key inside the lock. "It might not be very clean."

"Chloe, open the door." I smirk. Let's just rip the band-aid off.

Sighing, she opens the door and peaks her head in. After a second, she walks in and I follow her. Stopping, she swings her arms out. "Well, this is it. I'd offer up a tour, but you already know..."

Her voices dies out as I walk around. Trying not to snoop, I take in the subtle changes. The walls have been painted. The horrible carpet from the 80's has finally been replaced. Moving to the kitchen, I turn on the gas stove. Uncle John did a good job fixing this place up.

Realizing how weird I must look, I clear my throat. "The gas used to stall."

"Oh," is all she offers. A few more seconds of silent observation later, she coughs. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

Letting her lead the way, we end up in the front bedroom. I'm trying to remember what this room looked like, but when the door opens all I can say is "wow."

The walls are covered in pieces of paper. Images from magazines, pages torn from books with specific lines highlighted. If I wanted to know what color the wall is, I'd have to guess. "You want to travel?"

My eyes scan images of Paris, London, Tokyo and so many other places. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she blushes. "One day. That's the dream."

Nodding my head, I continue to take in new things. Everywhere I look, there's a new verse of words or picture to look at. "This is so cool."

"It's just paper." She hugs herself.

Just paper my ass, however, sensing that she doesn't want to discuss it any further, I drop the subject. Cracking my knuckles, I get an idea. "Coming Home is this week."

She rolls her eyes. "How can I forget? It's all Graham can talk about."

"He only mentioned it twice at lunch." That's a major improvement. "I'm a part of it." She nods. "And I sorta need a girl to be my escort. You know, smile pretty on my arm and whatnot."