Shift

Present…

Ha

I carried her inside after she fell asleep curled in my lap, head against my chest. I lay her on this couch where I’ve sat for the last hour with her hair trailing over my thigh like satin ribbons. This is it. This is the last time I will ever get to see her angelic face, her soft pink lips, tiny and parted as she breathes. She’s so at peace like this, and it’s the way I want to remember her.

I can’t stay in this house for two weeks knowing everything I know. I’ll never survive it. I won’t be able to hold the secret. I’ll break because I’m weak and I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to leave this fucking town. I hate it here, yet it’s my entire heart. The reasons for my hate are all wrapped up with the reasons I need to go.

God damn you, Colt Bridges. You gave me this life and have done nothing but threaten me for as long as I’ve walked this path.

My phone in my palm, I hover over Ha

I tossed around the idea of writing a letter, but really, how cruel would that be? She’d pick it apart, if her dad even let her have it. And Tommy. What about Tommy? He’s going to hate me, and for real this time. But he’ll be free of burden, free to go to college and live for his dreams, not mine. I can’t hold that against him anymore. If anything, I understand better. I want so much for him. For all of them.

I slip away from the sofa, holding my breath when Ha

The hot water hardens my resolve and hides my tears. I only grant myself a few. This chapter of my life has to close, and it needs to be a definitive finish.

Their dad was pla

I rummage through the laundry room, taking the few things I recognize as mine that Mrs. Judge cleaned for me, along with a few shirts of Tommy’s that I’ve always kind of liked. I smirk as I bundle them all in a hoodie, wondering how long it will take him to realize they’re missing. Ha

I tuck her shirt in my back pocket, letting it hang, then run my gaze along the shelves in their storage closet in search of one of Mrs. Judge’s cloth shopping bags. I find one that’s plain and blue, something that won’t stick out or draw attention, and dump my things—along with the items I’m stealing—inside. I grab Mr. Judge’s key from the counter and duck outside through the back door, rounding the house to the driveway so I can grab the cash and the stupid whale book from his glove box. I pause, looking at the notepad, and decide to bring it in case I get the urge to write Ha

I laugh silently to myself. My high school counselor would be proud. She was always trying to get me to journal.

I put the key back where it belongs and cinch up my bundle after splitting the cash between my two pockets, my wallet, and the bag. If someone is going to mug me, I’ve at least got to make it hard.

I know this isn’t how Thomas Judge pla

With a final stop at the end of the sofa, I kneel down and allow myself five more minutes of time with her. I won’t kiss her good-bye. I can’t afford to wake her up. I’m pushing things by stalling. When I feel the sting of tears, I get to my feet and nod, silently bolstering myself for all that comes next.

I head straight for the back door, deciding that’s the quietest route. Denying myself a glance over my shoulder, I stifle the sound of the door shutting by pulling it slowly and bracing it with my other hand. I slink against the walls of the house, avoiding the motion-sensing lights, and when my feet find the pavement of the road, I break into a slow jog, heading for the highway where I’ll hitch a ride into Phoenix.

Good-bye heart. Good-bye home. Take care of the Straights, and God watch over this girl.