Ella's Twisted Senior Year(9)

Mom texts me that she’s on the way home, and April asks if I want her to come over for moral support. I tell her no. I don’t really want anyone or anything right now.

I have this overwhelming feeling that keeps slamming into me as I look around at the cars and people and bright lights of the news van.

I want to go home.

But that’s the only thing I can’t do right now. There is no more home. No more 1224 Canyon Falls Road.

Someone has pizza delivered and we eat it off the trunk of my car. That’s when I realize Dad’s truck is also a piece of metal carnage. Even if he had parked it in the garage instead of in the driveway, it wouldn’t have survived. That tornado had a vendetta against our house, and it made sure to take out everything we cared about.

“You okay?” Dad says when he gets a break from talking to people.

I try to smile. “Um, how am I supposed to answer that?”

His lip quivers and he stares at the slice of pizza in his hand. “I know. We don’t have any savings, Punk. I don’t know what the hell we’re gonna do. Mom wants to get a hotel for the next few weeks.”

His lips flatten and he shakes his head. “We can’t really afford that.”

A cold stab of terror fills me as I see the same emotion in my dad’s eyes. He’s the parent here. He’s supposed to have a plan. But he’s just as lost as I am.

“Where are we going tonight?” I ask, keeping my voice low as an older couple approaches us from across the street. I recognize the woman as someone who often walks her dog around the neighborhood.

“We’re getting a hotel for tonight,” Dad says, smiling at the strangers. “After that, I have no idea.”

I close the pizza box and walk away. I make it all the way to the Poe’s mailbox next door and then I stop short, not wanting to get on their part of the sidewalk. Destroyed house or not, I still pretend that our next door neighbor doesn’t exist. Ever since the second I got home, I knew this wasn’t good. But I had no idea how bad it actually is, money wise. Most of the people on our street are well off. My parents built our house with inheritance and have been struggling to make ends meet ever since.

I drop and sit on the curb. I wrap my hands around my knees and pull them to my chest and all of the anxiety and fear I’d been trying to keep at bay comes roaring through my subconscious with the unfettered power of a tornado.

I drop my head to my knees and cry.





Chapter 6





My phone starts blowing up when we leave the Burger Barn. I glance down and see a text that says my neighborhood was on TV. Before I can reply, my phone beeps again and again as several texts come in at once. I’m guessing all my friends saw the same news channel and want to tell me the same thing. Kennedy grabs my phone and shoves it in her pocket.

“What the hell?” I say, stopping in front of my truck.

“You’re with your girlfriend right now. You don’t need to be texting people.”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair. “You are insane.”

She punches me in the arm. “That’s an incredibly rude way to talk to a woman.”

Toby puts his fists to his mouth and yells, “Damn!”

Keith just laughs.

I’m standing here wondering why do these guys try to hook up with Kennedy’s friends when they’re all the same way she is? They’re going to bust my balls over the way she’s treating me when all of her friends would do the same thing to them. And what exactly have I gotten myself into with this girl? She was so sweet when she first set her eyes on me after the Valentine’s dance. I’d skipped out on the dance, of course. That kind of thing is even stupider than prom and I was single at the time so there was no reason to go. I’d been with Toby and Jose at the Burger Barn when Kennedy and a few of her friends walked in, all dolled up and professionally styled. We’d told the girls they should ditch the dance and hang out with us, and Kennedy wrote her number on my receipt and said to call her.

So I did, and then we were a thing.

And now she’s a completely different person. Mom had warned me that girls like her tend to get possessive, but this is a whole other level of crazy. And apparently I’m not allowed to tell Kennedy when she’s being crazy.

I’m silent as I drive back to Kennedy’s house, but the guys make sure to keep the conversation going without me. When we get to her house, Kennedy leans over the front seat and plants her lip-glossy lips over mine.

“You can have your phone back if you say please.”

I pull away and stare at her, my expression blank. “You have no authority over my phone, babe.” I hold out my hand, palm up. “Hand it over.”

She blinks. “Ethan! God, I’m just playing.” With a roll of her eyes, she hands me my phone and then moves in for another kiss. I’m really not in the mood for this, but I kiss her back, if only to end the night sooner.

“Goodnight,” I say, watching as she walks away. Normally I’d walk her to her front door and as much as I love awkward small talk with her massive ex-football-playing father, I opt out of it tonight.

Toby knocks on my window and I roll it down. “What’s up?”

“Dude, that girl has it out for you,” he says, shrugging unkempt hair out of his eyes. “How did you screw up so badly?”