Alone Again

Unfortunately, the next morning was Monday. Meaning high school.

My high school was small, about 100 students per grade, so drama traveled faster than celebrity gossip.

So it was extremely likely that half the school already knew about my parents kicking me out.

I didn't sleep at all Sunday night. School was usually decent for me; I had a tight band of friends who supported me, no real reason to get bullied, and received average grades. Of course, nobody can get through high school without a dozen insults or so. I've received quite a few sexist slurs, being a female writer, and some homophobic insults. I snapped back at every one, and I once slapped a teacher who called homosexuals 'unholy'. Other than that, I generally kept my head low and didn't do anything stupid.

I haven't written anything at all since moving in with Rachel, a world record for me. I used to spend hours typing away on Rosa -- driving Mum mad.

The thought of Mum sent tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away quickly. I felt a hard kick in my thigh, and I pushed Rachel's leg away. Rachel kicked and moved a lot in her sleep, and, if she was having an especially upsetting dream, she punched. I normally sleep on the floor or on a couch when I'm at Rachel's, but I thought Rachel might've needed the company that night.

I tried to search for Rachel's phone, but it was too dark. My hand felt along the nightstand for it, and I found it. I lifted the screen close to my nose and squinted. 4:28 A.M. Oh well, no use in trying to sleep now.

I got up quietly and peeked around the room for a distraction. Rachel didn't have a bookshelf or even any books. There was a small T.V. in the corner, but I didn't want to wake up Rachel. I glanced back at her phone. I guess I could see what people are saying about me on Instagram, at least, I thought miserably.

I sat down on the floor so Rachel wouldn't kick me again, and I unlocked her cell phone. Immediately, I was hit with several notifications. Does Rachel not check her phone much?

But when I felt the case, it was snakeskin. Odd -- Rachel's case was normally a furry one. Maybe she changed it?

I opened Instagram and nearly dropped the phone when I saw the account: sia_tate. Oh my god; did Rachel take Sia's phone?

"Rach," I said quietly, shaking her shoulders. "Rachel."

"Is it six already?" she murmured quietly, her eyes still closed.

"No. Why do you have Sia's phone?"

Rachel's eyes flew open. "How did you know?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Your case is soft. Why did you take it?"

Rachel glared and looked away. She didn't say anything.

"Don't make me get your mom."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Rachel sat up and crossed her arms defensively. "I was going to sell it, okay?"

"What?"

"I said I was going to sell it."

"Why?"

Rachel laughed bitterly. "Why do you think? I don't have any money, Hannah. Not everybody's as rich as you and your parents."

"Oh, you mean the parents that left me out on the street?"

Rachel flinched and turned to me. "Wait, I'm sorry, Han--"

"No, it's fine, you're right. Look at me, waving my money in your face. And, yeah, I'm so lucky do have those two as parents; they're so great. Too bad they don't feel the same," I retorted, backing away from her.

"Han, wait, I didn't mean it--"

"It definitely sounded like you meant it. I don't need this. You can steal whatever you want; I'm out of here. Good luck selling your sister's phone."

"Han, please--"

But I already closed her bedroom door. I ran quietly down the stairs so I wouldn't wake up Mrs Tate and shrugged on my coat. I opened the front door and shut it behind me. I was alone again.

The winter air was cold on my face as I walked down Rachel's street. I looked both ways before rounding the corner. I kept on walking until I reached the entrance to my neighborhood. What to do now?

I couldn't walk forever. And I couldn't just sleep on the grass. I screwed my eyes shut and thought.

What would a sane person do if they were in my shoes?

They would probably go back to Rachel's, and grovel for forgiveness. That's too bad; I may have been stupid for leaving but at least I left with my dignity.

And no way was I going back to my parents'. Even if I really wanted Rosa, I couldn't--

I yelped out loud, clobbered with an idea. 𝘈𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦.