I couldn't help but roll my eyes while my mother lectured me. It wasn't the first time I'd heard the speech and I could quote her before the words even left her mouth.
You need to be more responsible Clarke.
This risky behavior has got to stop Clarke.
What am I going to do with you Clarke?
Don't you ever think Clarke?
One of these days you're going to end up in jail Clarke.
What is it going to take to get through to you Clarke?
Blah, blah, blah.
Maybe someday she would get it through her head that I didn't really care about her plan for my future? I didn't want to be a doctor, like her and my dad. I had no intention of being a lawyer, or a teacher, or an accountant. I barely made it through high school so why would I even entertain the idea of endless years of higher education? I'd only been eighteen for a few months, so I didn't see a reason to have my whole life planned out already.
Besides, I see all of the hours they put in for their fancy jobs, and for what?
We have a nice house. That they never see.
They have nice cars. That they only drive to and from work.
They have a closet full of expensive designer clothes and all of the best toys money can buy, but they wear scrubs and lab coats 24/7 and are too tired after work to even think about playing.
If that's the kind of future they want me to have, I want no part of it.
"You're going to have to do community service this time, Clarke."
That was a new one, and it snapped me back to attention. "What?"
"I can't keep covering for you all of the time. My list of people who owe me favors is getting pretty short because of you." My mother, the esteemed Dr. Abby Bartlett-Griffin, slumped back on the couch and sighed into her coffee cup. "You went too far this time."
"Too far? So I tagged a few walls. It was paint, not blood. Besides, the place is abandoned anyway."
I looked down at my hands, still stained with the bright red spray paint that I'd just used to redecorate an old foundry building with. I wondered how my best friend was faring. At least the cops always let my parents deal with my shenanigans. Murphy was probably sitting in jail right now.
"Clarke…" The exasperation in her voice doubled. "That building is owned by Congressman Jenkins. You should've known better than to put graffiti anywhere. But Jenkins' place? Too far…"
I rolled my eyes again and popped my bubblegum. "So what's my big punishment?"
"You're going to do Community Service." She answered without looking up from her steaming mug. "You are going to work at the hospital for the next month; full time, every day. I'll let you choose between assisting me in the emergency room or your father in his lab."
"WHAT?!"
I was beside myself. A whole month being cooped up in that place! I could already taste the disinfectant and disease that fragranced the hospital.
"Don't bother going out tonight, either. You're grounded to the house until you put in all one hundred and sixty hours and I don't want you anywhere near John Murphy."
Now she was being ridiculous. I was a legal adult for Heaven's sake! She couldn't ground me or choose my friends! I opened my mouth to protest, but she wasn't listening anymore, just like usual.
Spinning on my heels, I stormed out of the room, pausing in the doorway just long enough to give her a hand gesture that would've given her reason to punish me even more.
Upstairs in my room, I threw myself onto my oversized bed and pouted. My mother was stupid if she thought she could control me. I was born a free spirit and I would die a free spirit. I refused to conform to their ideas and dreams.
If I had to work at the hospital, it should be on my own terms. Did she really want patients being cared for by someone who didn't want to be there? It just proved that my parents were pretty crummy doctors if they wanted to put me in the same room with sick people.
Maybe I should just run away? Move in with Murphy and his brother Andrew. They'd been my best, and only, friends for two years now and I crashed at their place practically every weekend anyway. They lived with their mother in a small, two-bedroom apartment. Atom had a wife and kid there too, so there probably wasn't any room for me.
Fine, I thought. One month wouldn't kill me.
It might make me kill them, but I'd come out of it alive.
It was time to figure out the best way to make them hate me being there enough to drop the whole idea. Hopping up, I walked across the room and studied my reflection in the mirror.
My blonde hair hung down below my shoulders, cascading in pretty waves. At least, it would if I didn't always tuck it under a cap or twist it in a tangled ponytail. By my mother's standards, I wore too much makeup. I liked the bright colors against my pale skin tones. It made me feel like a walking piece of art or something. Besides, I'd noticed recently that if you look like you might be trouble, people stay away.
And I liked that idea.
The diamond stud in my nose caught the light and sparkled. I could remember the fit my parents threw like it was just yesterday. Now that I was an adult, there was nothing they could do about it if I wanted to pierce anything else. For that matter, I knew exactly how to tick them off. Grabbing my knapsack, I looked out my window to make sure our normally quiet neighborhood didn't have anyone out on the sidewalks before climbing out to make my way to the other side of our rural town.
Maverick was one of those towns you'd miss if you blinked while driving through. We had one school, three factories and a small three story medical center. You can't buy a beer on Sundays and no one would ever dream of missing a high school football game. Everyone knew each other and no one had any secrets. The only people who bothered to knock on your door before walking in were the Jehovah Witnesses.
Living here was stifling, to say the least.
I had to keep to the shadows while I walked down the garden-like streets to avoid being noticed by someone who would surely call my mother and bust me out. It didn't take too long for me to reach the local skate park where my crew usually hung out.
Just as I'd suspected, there was a small cluster of kids gathered at the far edge of the ramps. I'd gone to school with most of them, even though I didn't really hang out with them other than here in the park. If it weren't for the fact that they were all friends of Murphy and Atom, I wouldn't hang out with them at all. I liked my social circle being small but my parties big. Every time I came here though, it was a reminder that my circle was made of three, instead of four.
Picking out the familiar face I'd hoped to see, I approached him and made a few arrangements. After a small exchange of cash and a few hours of pain, I landed in my bed and tried to fall asleep.
Monday morning came a lot sooner than I'd ever wanted it to. With an exhausted groan, I pulled myself up out of my tangled sheets and stumbled to the bathroom. It was a shock to see myself in the mirror. Last night, I'd let Atom's wife Carrie dye bright pink streaks into my hair. With my smeared makeup, I looked like someone from a bad 1990s rock music video.
I pulled the fresh bandages away from my neck and arm and admired the new tattoos Atom had inked on me last night.
Are you serious? I thought for sure you'd chicken out. You know, Noah would be pretty stoked if he was here to see this. Who's the other sparrow for? I wish Murphy was here to see this. He'll be dying to once he gets out of county lock up.
And so on and so forth.
Atom talked the entire time. There were a few moments when I thought I was going to pass out from the pain, but I managed to stay alert the whole time. Right behind my ear, he'd drawn a beautifully colorful sparrow on my neck. The entire inside of my lower arm was covered with a quote that I'd always loved, featuring yet another sparrow in flight.
A small smile threatened to cross my features, but I swallowed it and took a shower. By the time I'd painted my face and gotten dressed in baggy cargo pants that hung low on my waist and a super tight black tank top it was already eight thirty.
Finally making it across town to the hospital, I was only an hour late. I didn't bother going to the emergency department. Even though I lived in a small town, I knew that there was rarely a time when they didn't have at least one patient there.
I wasn't about to be forced to clean up blood.
Or vomit.
Instead, I headed down to the basement to my father's "lab". It was here that he spent most of his life doing various studies that had something to do with crazy people. The door to the lab was propped open and I could hear laughter and horribly off-key singing coming from inside. Boldly waltzing in, I found my father in the middle of some kind of celebration with a guy and a girl that looked just a little bit older than me, but not half as cool as the kids I usually hung out with.
The girl was the same height as me, about five and a half feet tall, but not nearly as skinny. Her mousy brown hair was neatly pulled back into a tight bun. She had on hideous tortoise shell glasses and was wearing a frumpy cardigan and pencil skirt. She wore a huge smile that revealed somewhat crooked teeth, but it made her seem like she was pretty happy being the Queen Geek.
The guy would have been a little over six feet if he wasn't slouching. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face, but he wore a dress shirt and slacks along with high top tennis shoes. His dark hair hung in wild curls to his shoulders. Not in a cool bad-boy way, but in a way that said I'm too much of a nerd studying so much I don't have time to get a decent haircut. For all I knew, he cut it himself.
I interrupted a goodbye toast by clearing my throat loudly and giving my father a mock military salute. "Prisoner Griffin reporting for duty," I said rolling my eyes and popping my ever-present bubble gum.
My father came over to me and tried to involve me in their little party. "You're just in time for some cake. The frosting matches your new hair color."
He motioned toward a tray of store bought cupcakes and a computer printed sign that read Bon Voyage! Our Loss, Bethesda's Gain!
"Yay!" I mimicked his happy tone sarcastically.
"This is Bellamy Blake and Jennifer Stephens, my research assistants." He introduced. "This is my daughter Clarke."
Bellamy barely acknowledged my existence and never even turned to look at me, but Jennifer came over and grabbed me in a tight hug. "I'm glad I got to finally meet you. I've heard so much."
"I bet." I replied stiffly, backing away from her embrace without returning it. I could only imagine the horror stories my parents must tell people at the hospital about me. "So who's off to Washington DC?" I silently prayed that the answer was both of them. I didn't think I could handle a whole month of being cooped up with a real life nerd.
My father smiled broadly. "Jennifer has been accepted to do her PhD thesis there. We are very proud of her!"
I couldn't help but be a little bitter about the way my father was acting. It would've been nice to have him talk about me like that once or twice.
Shrugging it off, I looked around the small room. "So what am I gonna do here? Take out the trash and make coffee?"
My father, the distinguished psychiatrist Dr. Jake Griffin, rubbed his chin. "Charting and computer entry?" As if he was asking my permission? His gaze stopped on my neck and I watched his eyes narrow a little bit but he didn't say anything. "And if we don't have enough to keep you busy, you could always help your mother in the ER."
"No thanks," I popped my gum. "I'd rather take out trash all day. Shouldn't we be getting to work?" I knew it was rude to abruptly put an end to the festivities but I really didn't care. I didn't know the girl, so it didn't matter to me one bit that she was leaving.
"You're right," my father conceded. "I have three patients waiting as it is." He hugged Jennifer one more time and made her promise to keep in touch before gathering a thick medical file and leaving the room.