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Soria Girl
We'll Find Our Own Way Home
Saturday flew by like a firefly, never really slowing down. Dad and I just spent the day packing, barely exchanging any dialogue. We’d smile warmly at each other every once in a while. It wasn’t like I hated him in the first place. Really! I was just so ticked off for a stupid reason.
After Friday night, we basically charged out of Santa Monica and never looked back. With all the crap that happened recently, I knew I would see them again. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from crying a little when we exited from Wooderson. Man, all those memories. Heh. Walk a mile in my shoes and you’ll get it. Or, read a book about it…
But oh no! We couldn’t leave at nine or eight in the morning. No sir, we had to get up at three in the freakin’ morning and leave at, like, five. I was too tired to be upset. I even fell asleep listening to one of my favorite CDs.
It was hard to believe that I was riding in the very same car that took me here, and we were now riding back. That half-year was crazy, man. I was on a rollercoaster and in a few days, I’d be getting off.
As if to prepare me for Claymore, the song “Freightliner” by Hot Water Music came on. I always laughed as the singing began - sure, Chuck Ragan sounded like he had a mouth full of cookies, but I loved that song. It was perfect to hear on a road trip, and like any other song, I listened to it whole, not skipping at all.
The sun was blazing in the window, so bright I had to squint to see clearly. Kobe and Aliyah were cheery, I hoped. Those kids could never frown for more than a minute.
And I also hoped Crash was watching over them.
I wonder if he would have died if I moved back. It’s funny the way I over thought those things. Like, sometimes, I got bored and considered what would happen if I hadn’t asked my mom to play ball with me that one afternoon. Where would I be now if I didn’t wear a Hey Mercedes shirt on the first day of seventh grade? What if my bus driver had waited a few minutes so I wouldn’t have ended up in the cafeteria?
And would Crash still be alive if just him, Kobe, and Aliyah went to the pier?
In a way, I might have been a cause. But what happened happened, and I can’t erase it. Yeah, I regret some stuff, though in the end it’s useless to want to change the past, because I probably wouldn’t be anticipating Claymore if I didn’t do all that. If I stayed inside that day, if I just wore a Latterman shirt, if I went straight to class, if we spent the Spencer twins’ birthday at their house, I might not be the same person, even if I wasn’t completely content with myself as I was.
Man, the excitement and nervousness were eating me alive. What was waiting for me? It chewed away at my brain and refused to let me daydream.
I really hoped things wouldn’t be awkward between Ren and me. I could understand if he acted a little weird once I got home; I don’t blame him at all for that, but what I wanted the most was just closure. I just needed to know where we were going, if we were going anywhere at all. For God’s sake, he could have told me he just wants to stay friends. I’d be fine. I know there was something there. That was not going away anytime soon. Then again, why would he even break it off in the first place? He was the one who said he loved me first! It took a move across the country for me to realize that. I wonder how long it took for it to dawn on him. And he took it back and said we were too young, but then he said he still liked me…Jesus. Fuckin’ puberty sucks.
It was all just a bunch of jumbled thoughts. Incomplete thoughts and imaginary scenes. I played out my return in my mind; he’d either avoid me or go right over and kiss me Hollywood-style…
Oy.
The sun was setting across the horizon and I yawned. “How ya doing so far?” Dad asked.
“Tired,” I sighed.
He sucked in a deep breath as we rolled to a stop at a red light. Then he closed his eyes and tapped the steering wheel.
“Soria.”
“Hm.”
“…I’m sorry. You know, for everything I’ve kind of pulled you through this past year. I know it’s been rough.”
My heart slowed down and my muscles stopped clenching as I took in each syllable. He didn’t have to say anything else.
Because “sorry” was enough.
After Friday night, we basically charged out of Santa Monica and never looked back. With all the crap that happened recently, I knew I would see them again. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from crying a little when we exited from Wooderson. Man, all those memories. Heh. Walk a mile in my shoes and you’ll get it. Or, read a book about it…
But oh no! We couldn’t leave at nine or eight in the morning. No sir, we had to get up at three in the freakin’ morning and leave at, like, five. I was too tired to be upset. I even fell asleep listening to one of my favorite CDs.
It was hard to believe that I was riding in the very same car that took me here, and we were now riding back. That half-year was crazy, man. I was on a rollercoaster and in a few days, I’d be getting off.
As if to prepare me for Claymore, the song “Freightliner” by Hot Water Music came on. I always laughed as the singing began - sure, Chuck Ragan sounded like he had a mouth full of cookies, but I loved that song. It was perfect to hear on a road trip, and like any other song, I listened to it whole, not skipping at all.
The sun was blazing in the window, so bright I had to squint to see clearly. Kobe and Aliyah were cheery, I hoped. Those kids could never frown for more than a minute.
And I also hoped Crash was watching over them.
I wonder if he would have died if I moved back. It’s funny the way I over thought those things. Like, sometimes, I got bored and considered what would happen if I hadn’t asked my mom to play ball with me that one afternoon. Where would I be now if I didn’t wear a Hey Mercedes shirt on the first day of seventh grade? What if my bus driver had waited a few minutes so I wouldn’t have ended up in the cafeteria?
And would Crash still be alive if just him, Kobe, and Aliyah went to the pier?
In a way, I might have been a cause. But what happened happened, and I can’t erase it. Yeah, I regret some stuff, though in the end it’s useless to want to change the past, because I probably wouldn’t be anticipating Claymore if I didn’t do all that. If I stayed inside that day, if I just wore a Latterman shirt, if I went straight to class, if we spent the Spencer twins’ birthday at their house, I might not be the same person, even if I wasn’t completely content with myself as I was.
Man, the excitement and nervousness were eating me alive. What was waiting for me? It chewed away at my brain and refused to let me daydream.
I really hoped things wouldn’t be awkward between Ren and me. I could understand if he acted a little weird once I got home; I don’t blame him at all for that, but what I wanted the most was just closure. I just needed to know where we were going, if we were going anywhere at all. For God’s sake, he could have told me he just wants to stay friends. I’d be fine. I know there was something there. That was not going away anytime soon. Then again, why would he even break it off in the first place? He was the one who said he loved me first! It took a move across the country for me to realize that. I wonder how long it took for it to dawn on him. And he took it back and said we were too young, but then he said he still liked me…Jesus. Fuckin’ puberty sucks.
It was all just a bunch of jumbled thoughts. Incomplete thoughts and imaginary scenes. I played out my return in my mind; he’d either avoid me or go right over and kiss me Hollywood-style…
Oy.
The sun was setting across the horizon and I yawned. “How ya doing so far?” Dad asked.
“Tired,” I sighed.
He sucked in a deep breath as we rolled to a stop at a red light. Then he closed his eyes and tapped the steering wheel.
“Soria.”
“Hm.”
“…I’m sorry. You know, for everything I’ve kind of pulled you through this past year. I know it’s been rough.”
My heart slowed down and my muscles stopped clenching as I took in each syllable. He didn’t have to say anything else.
Because “sorry” was enough.
♠ ♠ ♠
Another short chapter~