Hello peoples! This is a fic written by both Dr Cullens Lonely Hearts Club and Embry4me, please read and review.

My (Dr Cullens Lonely Hearts Club) character is Judith, and Embry4Me made up Taylor.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE

The Art of Disappearing

"Yeah, leave me here! In the middle of nowhere! All by myself! I dare you!" I shouted to Jeremy as he shoved me out of the car, "Wait! Nah, man! I wasn't serious! Come back, I didn't mean it- shit!" I flipped him off as he threw his trash out the window and sped away, "Don't litter, asshole!"

But he couldn't hear me. No one could. I was all alone on some road in California. At least, I think it's California.

I pulled my beat-up leather jacket tighter around me and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans, throwing myself onto the grass besides the road.

Rolling onto my back I put an arm over my face to shield my eyes from the sun. After sitting up and leaning my elbows on my knees, I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply from it.

This wouldn't have happened if my parents weren't close minded idiots.

.:FLASHBACK:.

"Judith," My father shouted, "What on Earth were you thinking?!"

"Maybe I wasn't thinking on Earth," I said, not shouted. I didn't like shouting. "Maybe I believe Earth is the home of millions of fucking morons, like you, who only want power. So, I was thinking on Mars. No! I was thinking on Pluto. Because Pluto is cool."

Father's face turned an impossibly dark shade of purple, and mothers eye twitched.

"Go to your room," Father whisper angrily.

"Gladly," I spun around on my heel and walked calmly up the stairs. I wouldn't let them get to me. Just because they couldn't see things my way doesn't mean I'm wrong.

As soon as I entered my room, my sanctuary, my natural habitat, I grabbed a duffel bag and started throwing things into it. I was eighteen now...I had been for (I glanced at the clock) twenty-three hours. They couldn't stop me now. I was legal.

Where was I going to go? I thought for a moment...Did it matter?

After packing important things (Pants, cigarettes, shirts, underwear, some money, some books, Red Bull, a few beers I took from dads liquor cabinet, and, of course, my iPod. And my walkman, CDs, and batteries. Because iPods die pretty quickly.) I threw my duffel out the window, where it landed in some bushes. A few seconds later my guitar case landed next to it. I tied my sheets around the middle post of the window, and tugged on it to make sure it was sturdy.

Only one more thing to do. Call Ginny.

"Jude?" I heard Ginny say from the other end of the phone.

"I'm leaving," I said. No more explanation was needed. We had talked about running away many times, agreeing that if we had the chance we wouldn't wait for the other. Best friends can do things like that.

"Mother fucker," I could picture Ginny shaking her head, "You better call me when you're there, you lucky bastard," She knew I didn't know where I was going. "Remember the rules." Ah, the rules. We had made up the Hitchhikers Guide to Leaving Troy years ago.

"I will."

"Don't you dare forget me, Judith O'Neil," She warned.

"Rule 37," I recited, "Annoy your new, much less awesome friends with tales of your old, much awesomer best friend."

"Text me all the time."

"I'm smashing my phone," I told her, and there was a pause, "I'm pretty sure my parents have a trace on it."

"Oh."

"But when I end up where I belong, I'll call you." I heard her crying, but didn't bring it up. "I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too," Her voice was a little shaky, "Take a sad song and make it better, eh?"

"Don't forget, your Harry is out there somewhere, Gin," This could be the last time I ever made nerdy Harry Potter references with my best friend. We didn't physically say goodbye. We didn't need to. The line went dead. I snapped my phone in half and threw it in the trash.

I scaled down the side of the house, grabbing my stuff and walking. And walking. And walking.

I was leaving. I was free. I was gone.

.:END OF FLASHBACK:.

That had been three months ago. It was August now. Even though I'm stranded in the middle of God-knows-where, I still don't regret leaving Troy, I don't regret leaving the East coast at all. My parents always said that the world is a hard place to live in, but I don't think that's true. I just think they were looking at it wrong.

I mean, here I am, age eighteen and a quarter, no car, ran away before I got my high school degree, and I was able to make it from upstate New York to California in three months.

Pretty damn awesome if you ask me. Did I miss my parents? No. Did I miss my friends? Only Ginny. Was I happy? I'd been to almost every state below Canada, excluding Hawaii, damn right I'm happy. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

My worn duffel had a few holes now, but I was still carrying it around, and I still had my trusty (now five-stringed) guitar slung over my shoulder. Life was good.

I walked for a mile or two, and it was getting a little windy, and the sun was really bright. I took out a pair of John Lennon glasses and set them on the bridge of my nose, and I threw my leather jacket in the duffel. In the distance there was a black pick-up truck coming in my direction.

I flagged it down, and the window rolled down. There was a girl around my age in it, she had dirty blonde hair and aviators that were sliding down her face.

"Where you headed?" She asked, glancing down at me.

"Anywhere, man," I answered as my hair whipped around my face, "Anywhere but the east coast."

"Well, then, you're in luck," I heard the door click as she unlocked it, "Hop in."

As I situated myself in the car, and put my stuff under my feet, I introduced myself, "I'm Jude. Well, I'm actually Judith. Judith O'Neil. But you seem pretty cool, so you can just call me Jude. Who are you?"

"Me?" She pondered for a moment, "I'm not really sure yet. But for now, you can call me Taylor."

"Word," Jude pulled something out of her bag, "Mind if I smoke?"

**

Every day since I turned seventeen, I would sit in my bedroom and cry. Kinda like I was doing now.

My life is horrible. I'm miserable. Riley-my boyfriend- just keeps on banging on the door. This door is going to remain locked. I don't know what that jackass is thinking but I'm staying in her. I'll just wait until he is calm.

Well...Riley's version of calm.

" Let me in this fucking room you little bitch!" Riley screeches. I felt something wet drip down my left cheek. I stroked the wetness and looked at my hand.
Blood.
Once again Riley was on one of his rampages, and I was the victim who got in the way.
"NO RILEY! JUST LEAVE!!'' I screamed and sobbed at the same time.
"This is my house too, woman. NOW LET. ME. IN!" I couldn't take Riley anymore. I couldn't lie to everyone making up excuses of how clumsy I am when everyone knows I'm not clumsy at all.
I just have to leave....now.
I grabbed my duffel bags from under my bed and stuffed them with clothes and toiletries. i had stashed over $7,000 saved up knowing one day I was gonna need it.
Nice thinking Tay.
I went to the bathroom window, yanked it open and jumped. Just as I jumped I heard Riley finally got the door open. I grabbed my shit and hauled ass to my black pick up truck.
PEACE OUT NEW JERSEY!
I don't know where the hell I'm going but all I know is that its out of this hell hole of a state they call 'home'.
...Here's to new beginnings and all that, eh?
*END FLASHBACK*
"..then we all jumped up on the tables and did the thriller. Taylor? Taylor? Are you even listening to me?" Jude asked.
I picked Jude up on the side of the road yesterday somewhere in central California. Now we're in northern California. Jude was sort of edgy looking, with her chin-length sandy blonde hair that had a few blue streaks in it, her leather jacket, and the tattoo she has on her forearm (Though she has no recollection of ever getting it) She had a classic runaway-rebel look, and personality.
"Huh? Oh yeah sorry. I was just thinking about...some stuff" I said glaring out the windshield.
"Oh well I think we should start thinking about where we should stay..?" She states repositioning her self so she was facing me. I could smell the cigarette smoke on her breath. ('It's a sickness,' she claimed, 'Once I started, I couldn't stop)

"How about Washington?"

Who knows what will happen there...