Chapter 5: Run Away

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-Emme-

I walk home from the bus stop, excited. I talked to my counselor today about how I want to go into architecture. She told me that the school is taking a couple of students to tour Virginia Tech, and there is a possibility that I could get a scholarship when I apply. Being a girl in architecture is rare, so they have many scholarships for that.

My dad's car is in the driveway... why is he home already? I walk inside and hear him stumble in the kitchen.

"Mija, how are you?" He asks, a beer bottle in his hand. Great.

"Good, I talked to my consoler today about something excited." I say to him. He looks at me for a while, expressionless. How long has been drinking?

"That's great mija. What did you talk to her about?" He finally says.

"So, she told me that she is taking a small group of people from school to tour Virginia Tech, and I really want to go into architecture, and they have one of the best architecture programs in Virginia." I say. He crosses his eyebrows.

"Is that like, like a college or something?" He asks.

"Yeah, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and University." I say.

"Why do you want to go there?" He asks, then takes a sip of beer.

"I just told you, I want to go into architecture." I say.

"Emme, I thought we talked about this. I can't afford for you to go to college."

"Mrs. Green said they offer really good scholarships. I can pay for it that way."

"No." He says.

"Why not? This is my future!" I argue. He wants me to go to community college and pay for it myself.

"Yeah, a future that's going to lead to depression when you find out the world doesn't hand money over to people like us."

"People like us?"

"Minorities! No one wants to give some poor Puerto Rican girl money."

"Actually, they do. When you work for it. Not that you would know what that means."

"Excuse me?"

"You hardly work, then waist your money on stuff that we obviously can't afford. All I'm asking is that you let me tour Virginia Tech."

"And I told you my answer. No"

"That's so not fair." I say. His eyes light up.

"YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHATS NOT FAIR." He yells and slams his bottle on the ground. Glass shatters and I protect my face with my arms. I can feel a couple of pieces cut my hand. I gasp and look at my hand, there's a big cut. "Oh my, mija I'm so sorry. Let me help you." He says and stumbles towards me. I back away.

"I'm fine." I say and run to the bathroom. I quickly clean the cut and wrap it; a tear slips out of my eye. The window is cracked open in the bathroom, I grab my phone and backpack and open the window a little more and slip out.

I walk around the neighborhood, its silent. I put in my air pods and turn on music, walking the familiar paths. I realize that I'm in the far side of my neighborhood where Mark and Aaron live... well not Aaron apparently. I find their house and see is mom's car in the driveway. I can see Marks figure through a window... should I talk to him? Why not. I throw a rock at his window; he comes to the window.

"Emme?" He asks.

"Hey." I say.

"What are you doing here?"

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