We walk the next few blocks rambling about school and how much we hate our history teacher.

I stop in front of my measly little house and head down the narrow alley and pull down the fire escape ladder.

“Back in a mo.”

Climbing through my window, I hop inside and pause, listening.

I can hear Dad’s voice, along with two other guys.

What’s he still doing here?

I assume he’s just hanging out here for a little while before leaving. Whatever.

Just gotta be quiet.

I tiptoe to my closet and toss panties, a hoodie, and a new shirt for tomorrow. It’s all I can fit. I creep to the bathroom and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, shoving them into the outer pocket.

Making my way back down the hall, a floorboard creaks really loudly.

 shitshitshit

There’s a muffled voice from downstairs.

“You hear something?”

Shitshitshit!

I sneak back to my room as fast as I can, hearing sloppy footsteps on the staircase.

I jimmy the window open and slide out, bumping my cast on the frame.

Owwwwwwww

I just barely have time to shut the window before I hear his footsteps walk in, then him saying something about tremors and the house settling.

Phew.

“You coming or what?”

“Yeah yeah...”

I run down the fire escape and jog up the alley to him.

“Hey.”

Ollie grins.

“Hey.”

We walk another four or so blocks before we get to his place. It’s nice-like, really really nice. His keys jangle and the large door opens. We step inside, feeling instantly warmer.

He drops his bag haphazardly on the floor and saunters to the kitchen.

“I’m starving. You want anything?”

“Uh...no, I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Imma take my stuff upstairs.”

I grab my backpack and trudge up the carpeted steps to Ollie’s room. I’ve been here a million times before. I drop my bag into his chair and take my shoes off, switching my leather jacket out for my comfy hoodie and head back downstairs.

The living room curtains are closed, and the large flatscreen is on. Ollie munches on an enormous bowl of popcorn.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Whaddya wanna watch?”

“Um...I don’t really have a preference.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Okay. Wanna watch Iron Man for the millionth time?”

“Hell yes I do.”

He grins that cheesy grin of his. I grab some blankets out of the nearby cupboard and jump onto the couch next to him, earning a grumble. A piece of popcorn falls to the ground.

“Whoops, sorry.”

He picks it up and eats it.

I make a face.

“What?”

“Never mind. Nothing.”

I cry a little, and we’re only half an hour into the movie. I fucking love Iron Man, I love Tony Stark and I LOVE MARVEL. I was actually reading Iron Man fanfiction earlier in the waiting room.