Eureka
Untitled
By. Tate Icasa
The sunlight streamed through the window onto the floor of Zoe Carters room. Loud, contemporary music blared from the three foot tall speakers propped against the door. The rooms only inhabitant stood on the unmade bed, dressed in rumpled pajama's with her messy hair flying in a million directions at once as she sang along. The rest of the room was in the same general state of disrepair as the bed.
As the song wound to a close, it became apparent that someone was banging on the door. Urgently.
"Zoe! Zoe, turn the damn music down!" Her mother screeched over the last few notes.
Zoe gave an irritated sigh and jumped off the bed. "Just a minute!" She put the cd on pause and shoved the speakers out of the way. "What?" She snapped, opening the door.
Her mother closed her eyes and made a visible effort to remain calm. "Your friend Tiffany is on the phone."
"She's not my friend." She said, but without malice.
"Well, whatever she is, she's on the phone."
"Thanks." Zoe said with a shrug. She crossed the hall and picked up the phone. "Hey, Tif, what's up?"
"Zoe!" Tiffany exclained. "Guess what?!"
"You know, Tif, I"m not really in the mood for games. So I'd suggest you just tell me what you called to tell me."
There was a long moment of silence and then. "Okay. There's a forty percent off sale at the mall today."
"Now. Way."
"Yes. Way. My mom says she'll drive us."
"I'll be right over."
"No, you won't." Her mother said, taking the phone out of her hand. "I'm sorry, Tiffany, she'll have to go another time." She hung up the phone. "Young lady, your room looks like a hurricane swept through it."
"So what? It's my room."
"And its my house. And I say go to your room and don't come out until its spotless." She pointed.
"Like that'll ever happen." Zoe muttered, stalking back to her room.
Angrily, she shoved the speakers back in front of the door and turned the music up. She kicked the wall.
"There's no way I'm staying here." She muttered. She riffled through her drawers until she found her spare change and stuffed it into her pocket. Then she pulled on her shoes and opened the window. She glanced around to make sure she hadn't left anything before climbing out the window and dropping to the ground.
As she walked toward Tiffany's house she could see that the car was already gone. Just her luck, she reasoned. She stood on the curb and waited for a bus.
"Where to?" The driver asked.
She shrugged.
When she finally got off the bus a few hours later she was miles from her house. She paid the fare and started walking. But it wasn't long before the cops caught up with the young runaway.
And we all know where the story goes from there.