“Elijah, talk to me,” Lucy says as she stops in front of my house.
I keep silent even though I am looking at her in a silent rage, which I am sure she can sense.
“Elijah, seriously. Why did Sam want to see you?” Lucy asks once more as I open the car door to get out.
Again I do not answer her. I can’t talk about it. I just can’t. There is just too much going on in my life and it is as if I can’t find the worlds in my mind to formulize what I am thinking and feeling. For the umpteenth time in so many years I am actually speechless.
“Okay. Then don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to anybody. I don’t need this shit in my life.”
She barely waits until I am out of the car before she speeds of, leaving behind burn tire and lots of fumes.
“Bitch,” I mutter as I start climbing the stairs to my apartment. If she thinks she can use that attitude, then fine. I am not the person who left her in a strange town. Actually she owes me an apology, not the other way around.