Maturity

Sometimes, growing up will blossom a bud into a functioning flower. Most of the time? Gaining maturity can make life a lot more complicated.

My sight was too blurry to decipher anything. I let my legs carry me as fast as they would go. It felt good. Every time my feet pounded against the pavement, a whole new sense of empowerment filled me. Sounds evaded my ears, yet I knew they weren't following me—my parents knew better than that.

Then again, my brother didn't.

I ran faster.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Was that my heartbeat? Impossible, my head throbbed with my pulse. How could my heart be in my head though?

My limbs were Jell-O, but I didn't care. The pain felt good.

Great, actually.

It wasn't until I heard a familiar car horn that my feet came to an abrupt stop, and I tumbled to the ground. My breaths pounded against my mouth like a chainsaw. My hands dropped to my knees

Lights blurred most of my surroundings. As the street fell out into a wide intersection, I couldn't help but notice the change—buildings got bigger, signs got bolder. Despite the odd ring in my head, it baffled me how much of this place I overlooked, being stuck inside my own head all the time.

Beeeeeeeep. Beep beep beep.

"Trying to escape from us already, Ben!?"

When I turned around, I found the ugliest car known to man, a Get With The Nerds! sticker on the bumper. More importantly, a big head buried in pimples was poked out of it, giant glasses taking the attention away from his blond head.

I jumped in. Austin was in the driver's seat, reading me as my breaths struggled to get enough oxygen to my head. I glanced towards the back. Willie and Stuart looked at me like I had been targeted by the grim reaper.

"What?"

Austin threw his hands in the air. "Dude, we chased you down like nine blocks! What the heck is going on?"

I scrubbed my eyes dry. "Just…drive. Don't stop. Ever."

He looked at me, then Stuart and Willie. With a shrug, he put the car into drive. My head raced along with the engine. What was I thinking? Kyle was back at the house about ready to kill my parents, and now they were all going to murder me…

My secret was spilled.

Shoot! Crap!

I felt myself decelerate. My head darted around the car. Austin coughed towards a road sign, and I sighed. Twenty-five miles an hour. Guess getting pulled over wouldn't help anyone right now.

A voice sounded from the back that made my face throb. "Ben, are you going to explain how the-"

"Shh," Austin glanced at me. "Give him a minute to breathe."

My mouth gave a gaspy agreement.

"But aren't we going to-"

"No."

"But he's-"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Austin-"

"SHUT UP, STUART!"

Stuart's fidgeting hands came to a halt as the car screeched at a red light. I had no idea why he was standing up for me, why he wasn't listening to Stuart's common sense, but a grateful feeling sprung through my neck.

I hadn't felt such blind devotion since talking to that cop that day I…

Wow. That felt like a lifetime ago. I had once been willing to go through so much crap just to avoid drinking from a diseased water fountain. No, let's be honest. That wasn't the issue. I did all of that, but it wasn't for a bottle of water.

I wanted to find a way to oppose what everyone wanted me to do. Ed had told me to wait for him, and I found some diseased pleasure in making him and everyone who cared about me worry.

It's amazing no one has murdered me in my sleep. Yet.

It seemed so stupid now. So…childish.

Something shined against the car floor, and my thoughts trailed off anywhere but my head. It was small, perfectly round, with a rusty portrait of Thomas Jefferson plastered to its center.

A nickel.

I glanced out the window. This place looked familiar. Just to the right of the intersection was an alley, dark for centuries, but I knew what was on the other end. An old, broken fountain. Not too far off was the old therapy place. And a little jog away…

The closest gas station.

My fingers picked up the small coin. "Can I borrow this?"

Austin's eyes brimmed with what I hoped was not a desire to lock me up in a mental hospital. "Um…sure."

The car crept forward at the green light. As they questioned my mind's stability, I dug through the glove compartment and found an old pad of sticky notes and a red pen. Not perfect, but doable.

I don't remember what I wrote. Something honest, short. I took the coin and folded it in the note.

"I need you to stop at the nearest gas station," I said.

It turns out the nearest gas station wasn't the right one. That was the one across the street with reasonable prices for hydration purposes. The one that could have saved me a lot of trouble if I had chosen it earlier.

Austin pulled into a handicap spot. "Are you sure about this?"

I crunched the note in my fist and nodded. My head thumped with each step, heel to toe, heel to toe. I slipped out of the car and put my hand on the store's front door. Everything was blurry.

Yet it had never been clearer.

Like a stupid hero against his arch-nemesis, I wanted to be brave and march in like I owned the freaking place. But my nerves betrayed me.

I sprinted for the nearest isle and poked my head towards the cash register. There he was. I gasped, then broke out into a dead sprint. My palm dropped the coin and note by the cash register, and then I dashed back into the car with a slam of the door. I hadn't seen his face. He was big and gruff enough for me to know.

Anticlimactic? Yes. Cheesy? Call me Wisconsin. But I'd done what I could.

A fat set of fingers snapped in front of my face. "Are you done solving problems no one cares about?" Austin demanded.

"Because we wanna go bowling and I really don't want some insane fat guy stalking us with a rusty knife," Stuart said. "Seriously, did you have to do that now? Why couldn't you wait until after we left? You know what, forget it, let's just go."

I snorted. "Yeah. But…um…"

You have no idea how much I wanted to go with them and pretend my life was perfect. The throbbing in my head pulsed through my veins and demanded satisfaction. My house was burning up in smoke. It was my fault, and I had to piece together the remains.

Would I regret it?

Helicopter yes.

But this was my family, at the end of the day. If there was any chance at a happy ending for us, I had to be the one to step it up, face the ridicule, and do what I had to do to make them all side together again. Even if the only thing they could agree on was my diseased mental state. Still...

"What?" a strange voice answered. I'd forgotten Willie was in the car. I'm such a jerk.

I hated myself. "I need to go home."

"Didn't you just get out of that crap-hole?" Austin said.

My eyes crinkled. "I need to fix this…at least, I've gotta try. I didn't leave things…ideally."

The car was put in drive, but Austin laughed through his actions. "Benjamin Wood. So, you play dumb and immature so we'll pick you up on the street, just to grow up, send some hairy guy a letter, and make us send you home again like responsible teenagers."

"I'm sorry. I just...I don't know what to do. Just..."

Did I really want to go back there? The demonic gas station seemed like a perkier option at this point.

Austin chuckled and pulled out of his illegal parking spot. He circled around the block, passing by the station a good eleven times as he waited for my final word. Home. Or run. Home. Or Run. At last, he skirted to a stop beside the fountain, letting the wheel thump against the sidewalk.

"So," Austin turned to me. "What's the verdict, Chief?"

As I opened my mouth, unsure what words would sputter out, Stuart's eyes flew wide. He yanked against his seatbelt and cried, "ARE YOU INSANE? DON'T LISTEN TO HIM FOR CUCUMBER'S SAKE."

"Oh, shut up, Stuart."

My heart fell. Austin hadn't said that, and neither had I.

Willie smirked in the back seat.