My Sweetest Escape. Chelsea M. Cameron

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was avoiding me, had been avoiding me since the beginning of this year. We’d had all of two conversations—one of those happened on the day we moved in, and the other happened when she found me passed out in front of the door one night after a crazy time with Kelly and Mac and a bunch of people I hadn’t seen again. As if I’d remember them anyway.

      I took Kelly’s place on one of the boxes, pulling my knees up and resting my chin on them.

      The fight I’d had with my mother when she’d told me that I was being forced to move back kept running through my mind. Actually, the entire Christmas break had been one long fight that didn’t seem to end.

      What is wrong with you, Joscelyn? You’d better straighten up and fly right. You are coming back to Maine, or else I am coming there and dragging your ass back, understand?

      Straighten up and fly right. Yeah, I’d get right on that, Mom. She was one to talk. My parents had a half-dozen marriages between them and kids and stepkids all over the place. It was a full-time job just keeping track of them.

      I’d screamed myself hoarse, but hadn’t gotten anywhere. She’d even put a moratorium on hating Dad long enough to call him, fill him in and then get him to yell at me, too.

      I was powerless against the two of them.

      And then there was Renee.

      If Mom didn’t drag my ass back, Renee would be on that. She was worse than Mom in some ways.

      Speaking of my sister...

      My phone rang, and when I saw who was calling, I debated about picking it up.

      “Hey,” I said, wincing in anticipation of the barrage I knew was coming.

      “You better be getting your stuff together and be out the door,” she said by way of a greeting.

      “Nice to talk to you, too, dear sister.”

      “Don’t give me that shit, Jos. I am so done with this. You’d better get your butt on the road in the next hour or—”

      “I know, I know. You’ll surgically remove my fingers and sew them to my ass. I know.” Having a sister who knew surgical procedure and who was also mad at you really sucked sometimes.

      “Hey, I don’t need the attitude. You’re lucky that you’re coming to be here with me instead of Mom.” She did have a point. Back at Mom’s I’d just be drowning in a sea of my step and half siblings, among them a set of four-year-old twins who made the devil look like Mother Teresa.

      “I know,” I said. That seemed to be my phrase of choice lately.

      “Just know that I’m going to be on your ass like white on rice, and if I’m not around someone else will do it for me. You’re walking into a house full of people that are going to watch your every move and call you out on it. Understand?”

      Jesus Christ.

      “Yup.”

      “Okay. I’ll be waiting for you. Call me the second you leave.”

      “I will. ’Bye.”

      I hung up before she could say anything else. I put my hands over my face and screamed into them. This was a nightmare I never seemed to wake up from.

      Asleep or awake, it never left me.

      But I was awake now, and I had to move, so I got off the box and picked it up.

      Chapter 2

      After nearly twelve trips and a lot of sweating and swearing, I got all my stuff into my car. Despite it being freezing outside, I peeled off my winter coat and just wore my ratty sweatshirt, my breath visible in the January air. People walked by and gave me looks, and I knew what they were thinking. Just another student who couldn’t hack it and was being forced to leave and not come back after Christmas break.

      They didn’t have any idea.

      I went back up to the half-bare room and looked at it one more time.

      Goodbye, freedom.

      I didn’t bother to leave my roommate a note and just shut the door behind me. It wasn’t like she’d care anyway.

      I texted Kelly that I was leaving, but she didn’t respond. Big surprise. Other than Kelly, there wasn’t really anyone else at UNH that I had left to say goodbye to. I hadn’t heard from Matt since before the summer, when he’d broken up with me. The others, my little circle of friends, had long since lost touch with the crazy, reckless emo girl. I’d heard them talking about my transformation behind my back more than once.

      Snow was just starting to float down from the sky when I got back downstairs to my car. I could barely see out the rearview mirror, but I was mostly driving on the highway anyway.

      I plugged my iPod into my car speakers and hit Shuffle. It was going to be a long trip and I only had music for company. The sleeve on my sweatshirt rode up, exposing the bracelet I never took off. It was simple, just a chain with a little elephant charm on it. I kept it as a reminder. A constant reminder.

      Shaking my head, I pulled away from the dorm and headed for the highway and the next chapter in my life. A fresh start was irrelevant when the dark things in your past were always following you.

      * * *

      It took me longer than I anticipated to get from New Hampshire to my sister’s house in Bangor, Maine. Actually, it wasn’t even her house. She’d moved in with this guy Hunter, who was buying the house because he was apparently loaded. Leave it to Renee to find a rich friend. She was also on again with her boyfriend, Paul, which was a good thing, in my opinion, because she was a pain in the ass when she wasn’t with him. Even more so than she was when she was with him.

      I hadn’t seen the house before, so it was a bit of a shock when I parked in front of the house Renee had given me directions for.

      “Damn,” I said. It was huge. Way huger than Renee had let on. I’d pictured something a little run-down, and small, but this was bigger than any house I’d ever lived in, with Mom or Dad.

      I grabbed my backpack and headed up the porch steps, glancing at the cars in the driveway as I passed them. It was easy to spot Renee’s, so I knew I must have the right place.

      There was even a freaking doorbell. My finger was an inch away from ringing it when the door flew open.

      “There you are! I was worried you were lying in a ditch somewhere,” Renee said, flinging herself at me. Startled by the hug, I sort of stood there and kind of hugged her back.

      “I’m here.”

      Somehow, I’d gotten a recessive redhead gene in our family and ended up with carrot-red hair, freckles and green eyes. Renee had gotten the good genes, with her blue eyes and blond hair that didn’t need much highlighting. Our features were similar, but our coloring was so different that people never thought we were sisters.

      She finally stopped hugging me, but kept her hand clamped on my shoulder and steered me into the house, as if I was going to make a run for it. Where, I didn’t

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