As we reached his bus stop, I got up from my seat, and Sara looked at me. “Where are you going, Ally?” 

“Michael’s house,” I looked back at her, “he didn’t come to school, so I’m going to go check up on him.” 

“Alright, I’ll let Mom know when I get home.” 

I nodded and continued to walk off the bus. As I started walking down the street, I pulled my phone out and called Michael. “Of course, it went straight to voicemail.” I waited for the tone to leave him a voicemail, “Michael, it’s Allison. I wanted to check up on you. I’m actually outside of your house. I wanted to talk to you about something, so if you could, call me.” I continued to walk down the street looking for his house, when I heard a woman yell.  

“GET OUT! YOU WANT TO REFUSE MY ATHORITY AS A MOTHER? THEN, GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW!” I looked in the direction the yelling came from and to my disbelief I see him. At the moment, our eyes locked together, so I waived at him. He turned his head and wiped his face. He probably was crying and didn’t want me to see. 

“Hey,” I started walking to him. 

“Stay away,” he said, “I’ll come over there in a minute. Please, just wait for me at the beach.” 

A younger woman started running in his direction. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, please. I don’t want you to see this.” 

“Michael,” I said stumbling forward. 

“Ally, please,” he begged. “Please, I’ll be there in a min...”  

“DID YOU NOT HEAR ME BOY? I SAID LEAVE RIGHT NOW!” 

“Give me my car keys then,” he yelled back at the younger woman. She looked maybe 30 or so, but I still didn’t know why she was talking to him like that. 

“It’s my car,” she said.  

“I bought that with my money. It is in my name. Mom, please, I’ll leave. Just give me my keys,” he reached out to her.  

She huffed and tossed him the keys. “DO NOT COME BACK! I’LL MAKE SURE YOUR GRANDMOTHER KNOWS TO NOT LET YOU IN!” 

Michael got up from the ground and walked towards his car. “Get in,” he said motioning for me to get into his car. I do what he said, and I got into his car.   

We soon got to the bridge, and I started to stop him, “Wait, what are you doing?” 

“I’m taking you home, then I’ll be going to my apartment.” 

“You have your own place?” 

“Yes,” he said. “As you saw, my mother gets really angry, because I look like my father. She just gets to drunk or high and thinks I am him. So, when we moved here, I got a job and told my grandmother that I should get my own home in case this happens.” 

“I’m sorry,” I started to cry, and he turned the car around to head towards town.  

“Do you want to come by for a few?”  

“Yeah,” I said wiping my tears away.  

He laughed, “You are something, you know?” 

“Of course,” I smiled.