On My Own

“Because I used to live there,” I explained, “when I first moved to Huntington Beach.” Her mouth formed an ‘O’ and I sighed. “I put it as my current address because I don’t have home.”

“What do you mean?” Stephanie asked. The warning bell rang and I motioned for my best friend to follow me. We walked down the hallway and out the side door. We went to the soccer and football field and I sat on the bleachers.

“I ran away from home three weeks ago,” I explained. Her eyes widened. “I’m not from Portland, I’m from Los Angeles.” My arms wrapped around myself and I took a deep breathe. “My name isn’t Adeline Armstrong…it’s Brittany Perkins.

“I hated my family and most of the time, they hated me to. There was always someone fighting or drinking or something else. I started getting depressed and spending as much time as I could with my friends. Each one of them offered to let me. One of them turned against me and we had a huge fight but the rest of them remained loyal.

“From the summer last year up to right before I left, they all told me I needed to get out of my house. The fights were getting worse and I was starting to get yelled at all the time. That’s when I started drinking as much as I could just to make it all go away.

“I finally snapped and tried to kill myself. I went and took different pills and downed them all with some vodka. I went to bed and I had no plans of waking up ever again. Imagine how I felt when I woke up.” I let out a laugh. “I thought I had set it up good. Different pills, a few of each, plus some alcohol and I didn’t die.

“That’s when I knew I had to leave. I know my friends’ hearts were all in the right places, but my parents know where each one of them lives. I would’ve gotten dragged back to my house the second day I was gone. So I started getting money from my parents by asking them for it. I told them I was going shopping or I had a field trip or I needed school supplies.

“My brother is technically a criminal and has some dangerous friends. They always treated me like a little sister, so I was never scared of them. I asked one to get me a couple fake ID’s and edit a picture so I had shorter brown hair and glasses, plus a new name; Adeline M. Armstrong. One to say I was seventeen and one that said I was twenty-one. He also offered to make me a birth certificate and transcript.

“I planned it out very good. I slept over at my friend’s house and went straight from there to the salon. Then I got my ID’s and papers and then took my car to Club Twenty-One. I called Huntington Beach High, pretended to be a very sick mother sending their daughter to register themselves at school the next day and tossed my phone into the traffic and bought a one-way ticket to Huntington Beach.

“I found McDonald’s and bought some dinner and then went to the liquor store. I met Matt, who liked my choice in drink and bought my vodka for me even though I didn’t ask. I checked in at a Super 8 and then registered myself at school. Nobody questioned it and everything was going good.

“Last week, my hotel room got broken into while I was asleep. I woke up just as they were going through my wallet and then they left. They a lot of money and I was left with just a twenty dollar bill.” My voice cracked and Stephanie put her arms around my shaking body. Tears rolled down my eyes.

“That explains so much,” she mumbled. She squeezed me tighter. “It’ll be okay.” I shook my head as the bell rang. We didn’t move from the bleachers.

“It’s not,” I whispered. “I’ve been staying at beach. I’m starving. My back hurts and I keep having all to hear about myself on the news all the time.”

“Ade, I have an idea,” she said. I look up and raised an eyebrow at her. “You could live with me and my dad! We have an extra bedroom! He won’t care! Dad would probably rather have you staying with us than sleeping on the beach! I could talk to him about it tonight!”

“Steph, are you sure?” I asked her. She nodded and I hugged her. “Thank you.”

“Adeline, we’re best friends,” Stephanie laughed.

“There’s one other thing you should probably know,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “You know how my boyfriend is Matt?” Stephanie nodded. “He’s sort of Matt Sanders.” She looked lost in thought for a moment before it clicked to her.

“As in Mr. Sanders, our teacher?” I nodded. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”

“How the fuck did you know?” I asked, letting out a giggle.

“I told you! You and him are always giving each other looks! You should see yourselves! It’s not like a once or twice thing, it’s a five to ten time every ten minutes!” Stephanie laughed, holding her stomach. “And then all the smiles you two give each other!” She laughed some more. “Oh my God, you’re dating a teacher!” I shoved my hand on her mouth.

“You don’t need to announce it to the whole world!” I said, removing my hand.

“I think you two are cute, but he better watch his back,” Stephanie said, standing up. I stood up to and we walked down the bleachers.

“And why’s that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Simple. You are like my little sister. If he breaks your heart, I break him,” she stated, locking our elbows together as we headed inside our school to go to our third block classes.