It wasn't until I got to Jason's development and stood in front of his darkened house that I remembered he wasn't home. He'd gone to Banff, Alberta for the week.
As I stood there in the cul-de-sac, staring at the house, I seriously contemplated entering through the basement window around back. It was usually unlocked for when Jason would sneak out to meet us. He wouldn't care that I crashed at his place. I wouldn't even leave a trace of me behind for his parents to notice anyone had been there. The only thing that stopped me was the neighborhood watch. It was perhaps the only area in town that had one, or more like people who cared enough about their neighbors to watch their backs. There were probably a dozen pairs of eyes on me now, watching, waiting to see my next move. For sure if I stepped onto the property the block would be swarming with cops. I had about enough confrontation for one night to put that theory to the test.
Scanning my eyes over the neat cookie-cutter homes, I turned around and went back the way I came, now a lonely nomad. Wade didn't exactly kick me out, I made that decision on my own, but there was no way I was going back that night. It would only prove the point that I really didn't have anywhere else to go. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction and have to see that smug smirk on his face when I came wandering back in. It would make my mom happy, I was sure, but I was feeling spiteful and would let her spend the night worrying about me and if I was ever going to come back. Maybe if I stayed away for a couple of nights she'd look at things with a fresh perspective.
Who was I kidding. She'd worry until I came home then we'd be right back where we left off. A bitter part of me wanted to just take off. Leave her to finish ruining her life with Wade and start somewhere new. Somewhere I could be a different person - anyone I wanted to be. I could invent a whole new me.
It sounded great in my head and when the guys and I tossed those ideas around for kicks. But the truth of the matter was, I was stuck. As badly as I wanted to take my mom and run, I knew she wouldn't leave Wade so willingly and I wouldn't leave her to be alone with him. Not for long, anyway. That night was just to hold onto my pride. I'd go back tomorrow once things, hopefully, cooled down and we'd carry on. It was a sad reality and I sighed and shook my head as I wound my way down the quiet suburban streets back toward the center of town.
I took my time, allowing my thoughts to swallow me up as I gazed at the pristine picture of the Canadian dream surrounding me. White picket fences and mini vans parked in driveways of family homes. There were children still outside in someone's backyard playing. Their high pitched squeals of laughter carried down the street. A dog barked, another answered.
I always wanted a dog. They were far better company than any human could ever be and were the most honest and innocent of creatures out there. I always promised myself the first thing I would do when I was able was get a pet - one from a shelter that needed a good home and someone to love that would love them in return. I awaited the day I would walk through the door and have someone there that would be glad to see me. I longed for a life with those comforts, always would. Back then it didn't seem possible for me - a pipe dream.
I really didn't know where I was going. At some point I just walked for the purpose of moving forward, though felt stagnant even when my legs grew weary. The hours ticked by, the sky grew darker with a new moon and the world became quiet. I somehow managed to drift away from civilization, only the distant sound of cars providing some indication of my location.
If I lived in shantytown, this was the rural equivalent. I lived on the outskirts of the city, this was the outskirts of that. It was almost desolate. If I didn't have a large set of gonads, I would turn and head back toward the comfort of population. I was poised and ready to come face to face with a shotgun if I took one wrong step.
But even this part of town was hunkered down for the night. There were no lights almost at all except for an occasional lamp glowing from behind the curtain of a window. Street lights were blown out (or shot out) and never replaced, almost as if the area was no longer part of any utility map.
I wondered what time it was and how long I'd been walking. Maybe I would just walk until morning, my mind seemed capable of it even if my feet were starting to ache. When I got lost in the oblivion I didn't even notice the physical discomfort.
But then I saw it. My reprieve. I paused to look at the vacant lot, overgrown with brush and looked as if it were used as a dump site. In the far corner, balanced precariously in a half-dead oak tree was a fort.
I took a look around, weighing my options. Bunk down in the tree fort or head back to town which would inevitably end with me back at my own doorstep, or sleeping outside of it. I'd rather take my chances in the wilderness.
I was careful as I picked my way through the lot, stepping over old tires and skirting around oil drums. My toe kicked a bottle, it clinked loudly against a rock and a froze, hoping I didn't sound any kind of alarm. When I heard nothing, I continued to the tree, stood at the base of it and looked up at the floor over my head. It wasn't high up, but I questioned the stability of the hand and foot holds bolted to the trunk of the tree that served as a ladder to the gaping entrance about eight feet up.
I hooked the handles of my duffel over my shoulders and gave the wood a pull. It stuck fast so I braced myself and began to climb. It was much easier than I thought it would be with the weight of my bag pulling me down.
When I made it to the entrance, my next worry was what possibly awaited me inside. Being from an urban area, I had many encounters with homeless and squatters. It occurred to me that there was a possibility this tree house was already claimed by someone. It was too nice of a building to be left alone. Anyone who slept in an alley would give their right arm for a shelter like that. I just hoped they were willing to share for one night. I had snacks to barter with if they wanted compensation, but if I was really lucky, it would be as empty as the lot in which it stood.
It wasn't. I learned this the hard way. The very, very hard way.
As soon as I hoisted myself up, got my knees beneath me on solid ground, and shrugged off my bag, something blunt collided with the back of my shoulders.
"Argh!" I grunted as I was splayed on my stomach, dazed.
"Don't move!" Someone yelled a me, poking me in the back with their weapon.
I remained flat on my front, lifting my arms in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was up here."
"What do you want?" It occurred to me then that the voice was female, but they were making an effort to deepen it to make it seem less so. Smart, but ineffective. Still, female or not, they had the upper hand and I was compelled to oblige whatever they requested lest I wanted to go home with more bruises than I left
"I just needed a place to crash for the night. I'm not here to hurt you, I swear. You can check my bag for weapons if you want." Slowly, carefully, I reached over to push the bag back toward her, aware of the object she held digging harder into my spine as I did.
She didn't move. Maybe debating my sincerity, and my true intentions. I didn't think it was any weapon I could hide in a bag she was wary of.
"Look, I'll go if you want me to. Like I said, I thought the place was empty." I really hadn't meant to trespass on someone else's turf. They were there first, fair was fair.
"Who are you?"
"Ty."
"Ty?" The femininity came back to her voice as she said my name. I knew that voice.
"Meghan?" I was stunned and it appeared so was she as she retracted the two-by-four she hit me with and allowed me to turn over to look at her. Of what I anticipated finding, she was not on that list.
"What are you doing here?"
She lifted the wood, poking it toward me. "No, you don't get to ask that. I was here first. What are you doing here? Little far from home, aren't you?"
"Aren't you?" I actually never thought about where she lived. I was more concerned with whom she lived.
"No," was her simple answer.
An unsettling thought struck me. "You don't… live here, do you?"
"No," was again her answer, her voice softer than before. "Sometimes I- No, you answer me first. Why are you out here in the middle of the night?"
I eyed the two-by-four. "Now that we've established I'm not the enemy, do you mind? This feels like an interrogation." I wasn't sure it wasn't, but she lowered the wood anyway, leaning it up against the wall where she'd laid out a sleeping bag. I sat up, brushing dust from my hands and clothes.
"I just needed to get out for a while. Couldn't stand to be home another night," I answered as she fell back onto her makeshift bed and leaned over to switch on a camp light. I squinted against the sudden brightness, allowing my eyes to adjust before taking a look around. I was surprised by what I saw.
Meghan might not live in the tree fort, but she certainly spent a lot of time there.
"Nice digs," I commented, noticing the large cooler and various storage containers that lined the walls. I returned my eyes to her, a smile slowly curving my lip at her bed head. Apparently, she'd been sleeping before I burglarized her hideout.
"What?" I asked. She was staring me down rather intensely.
"Don't be a smartass."
"I wasn't! It's cool. Like a secret clubhouse." I really wasn't making fun of her. I was just surprised, was all. I wasn't exactly sure what to make of the situation.
"Secret, is how I want it to stay." She was serious and I wasn't in the position to argue.
I shrugged. "Okay. Not that it's very well hidden. I saw it from the road." In the dark. But I had no want or reason to go telling people Meghan Donovan liked to camp out in a rotting tree house. If anyone else were to figure that out, it wouldn't be because of me. Either way, my agreement seemed to satisfy her and we were back to our original interrogation.
"How did you end up here? I thought you lived across town."
I didn't ask how she knew that when I hadn't known where she lived, but just shrugged again. "I went to my friend Jason's, but when I remembered he wasn't home I just… walked. Didn't know where I was and figured it'd be fun to camp out for a night." I kicked off my shoes. My feet were glad for the break.
"What happened at home?" She asked, making a face of disapproval at my dirty socks with the hole worn through the toe.
"Ah… not until you tell me what you're doing out here." That was what I really wanted to know. I stumbled upon the fort by complete coincidence. My excuse was a valid one. I was still waiting for Meghan to explain her side of things.
Her eyes darted to mine briefly before looking away again. "Same as you. I had to get away for a while."
"Looks like you have to get away a lot," I guessed, referring to her rations. She was quiet a moment, her lips parting as if about to answer before closing again and nodding instead.
"Family drama?"
"Sort of. You?"
I paused before repeating her answer. "Sort of." There was a great deal of unspoken truth hidden between those words, from both of us. Very similar truths that were fighting to be revealed despite attempts to hold them back.
We were both quiet a moment, unsure of how to carry on the conversation without creating tension. Finally, I asked, "So… you haven't pushed me down the hole yet. Does that mean you'll let me stay?"
I could see a soft smile flicker over her face. "Sure. Just don't get any ideas. I'm not one of those girls you and your friends chase around."
I chuckled, "No." She wasn't. Most of them wouldn't even set foot in that lot, let alone climb a tree. "But the chase is all part of the game."
"And what game would that be?"
"The game of love, of course."
I could see in her face she thought I was full of it. "Love. Really? Have you ever even been in love?"
That question threw me, made me stop and consider it a moment. Had I ever truly been in love? I've had infatuations, most guys my age have. But I don't think I've ever even toed what real love was. "No."
"Sounds more like lust to me, then."
"Okay, maybe it is just lust. But at our age there's no such thing as real love. It's all about playing the field. You can't tell me you haven't gone through guys left and right, sorting out the haves from the have-nots." This was the time we learned about ourselves as individuals and what we sought in a partner. The only way to do that was to date a bunch of people and weed out the bad ones.
"I have no interest in 'playing the field'. Besides, when you're a have-not people don't usually bother to notice you." I could feel the weight behind those words, the loneliness that was tucked between them. And I began to feel guilty. I was one of those people that never noticed Meghan before even though we saw each other every day.
"I noticed you," I countered, hoping to ignore that fact. "You're just so introverted it's hard to tell if you even want to be noticed or just left alone." That was also true. She didn't do anything that screamed for attention and with so many others that did, it was just easier to focus on them.
She sighed. "I know. I'm just not very good at making friends, or being sociable. Sometimes I prefer to be left alone but… when I see other people I want that too. It's just not that easy for me to approach people like it is you."
"I don't think it's because you lack social skill. When we talk I'm always surprised by your sarcasm." I never thought that quiet girl could possess so much snark. "I think it's because you're just afraid of letting people get to know you - the real you."
She smiled, almost amused. "You know, I think you let people think you're a lazy, unmotivated, delinquent because you're afraid of the exact same thing. I guess that means we're a lot more alike on the inside than how we appear on the outside."
I could agree with that, except, "Well, I am a rather lazy when it comes to school. Feels like a waste to me." The smile faded from her lips and I immediately wished I could take back what I said to the girl who was stressing over the possibility of repeating a year and not graduating. I could care less, and she couldn't care more. "F-for me. I don't even plan on graduating so… I don't see the point of continuing to bother." I cringed internally, feeling like I just made my comment worse.
"Getting that diploma is my way out of here," she said quietly. "My grades aren't the greatest and a university won't look twice at me if I flunk out. I just… I can't be here anymore. The thought of having to wait another year just…" She took a slow breath and looked toward her lap.
"Well, I figured I'd take a lesson from Ted Turner and Bill Gates and just invest in something big. You don't need college to be successful or achieve something great." I grinned proudly. That was always my argument when I got lectures about the importance of education.
"Except both of those guys finished high school, " she argued.
I had one for that too.
"Quentin Tarantino didn't." She rolled her eyes at my waiting comeback.
"Maybe I'll be his protege one day."
"Good luck with that."
"Then you can be my assistant with that nifty college degree of yours." I smiled warmly, hoping to get hers to return as well. It did.
"Or maybe I'll take pity on a down-on-his-luck actor and hire you to take out my trash and clean my toilets." She grinned and I laughed.
"We'll see which of us makes it there first then decide."
"May the best woman win." She reached out to shake on it. I grasped her soft hand and held it, ignoring the implication, mostly because I hoped she would be the one to make it. I could see how badly she wanted to get away from this town and make something of herself. I did too, but like I said, I didn't have quite that much faith in myself.