Dad wakes me five hours later as we pull into our new apartment complex. We've never lived in a complex before. It's always been a building on a street or a set of rooms above a business. I sit in the truck as Dad goes into the office to get the key and apartment number. A man comes outside to smoke a cigarette under the porchlight. Two kids walk past with a dog and a flashlight. When Dad gets back in the truck, I don't acknowledge him. He pulls around to another emptier part of the parking lot and turns off the truck. Without speaking, I grab my backpack and follow Dad.
He takes us down a path to a large pond where a few ducks sit near the water. He unlocks out new apartment and opens the door for me. I climb the stairs into an open room with nothing but carpeting, a ceiling fan, a modest kitchen, and an unimpressive fireplace. A glass door opens onto a small balcony. I explore the other rooms-a master bedroom with a bathroom and walk-in closet, a small bathroom with a laundry room the size of a postage stamp, and my room, which is not a bad size. It's actually one of the nicer apartments we've had.
I toss my stuff into my room and go to shower. Though the warm water is relaxing, tears roll down my cheeks. I miss my friends, my school, my room, Ryan... It will take a long time for this place to feel like home. It's hard to breathe for a few minutes as I just stand under the water crying. I stay in the shower for a long time before I hear Dad knock softly on the door. "Myka, honey, I made some food."
The prospect of something to eat snaps me out of it. I quickly finish up and get out of the shower, donning a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt Ryan had given me. I find Dad sitting on the floor, leaning on the living room wall, eating noodles out of a plastic bowl. He had brought in two boxes-one of food, one containing the microwave-and his duffel bag. "Here," he says, holding out a second bowl of Ramen Noodles. We eat in silence for a few minutes before-"So what do you think?"
I glare at him, "Of what?"
He shrugs, "The apartment. What do you think?"
"I mean, it's fine. It'd be better if we had our furniture and shit in here."
"Well, of course."
"Or if were still back in Lawrence."
He grimaces. "Myka, you know there was nothing I could do."
"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Myka, be reasonable."
"Dad, I'm being reasonable. I just need some time, okay?" When he hesitates, I continue, "Really, Dad, I'm fine."
He smiles sadly at me, "You can talk to me anytime, honey."
"Dad."
"Okay," he retreats, raising his hands in surrender.
I narrow my eyes at him, stand up and put my bowl in the sink before walking into my room and closing the door. I roll my sleeping bag out on the floor and crawl into it. My phone beeps, indicating new messages, so I plug it in to charge and open them.
From: Ryan Message: I love you...
From: Jill Message: You left your hoodie here. I miss you.
I turn my phone off without replying and fall quickly asleep.