"I just can't help telling someone I'm close to what I believe to be the truth, unfiltered," I tell him.

Nolan smiles, not rudely, but understandingly. "I know," he says. "You do it all the time to me."

I find myself thinking about Nolan and not Cas as I tell my mom I'm leaving. Although I'm ironically leaving with Cas and not Nolan.

The car I bought off the auto sales listing online is packed with all my stuff. The mattress had to be smashed in half between the front and back seats.

"You got emancipated at 17," I point out to my mom as she tries to stop me.

"That was different," she snaps. "I was in an abusive home. You're not."

It's true. I'm not leaving because my mom has done anything wrong, but just because I want to be leaving. There's a fire growing in me that isn't satisfied with the loneliness of sharing a home with a woman who's not even there emotionally when she's there physically. Not with the constant fighting and name calling.

Cas waits in the passenger seat as I bring out the last of it. My mom tries to stand in the way of the driver side door.

"You can't leave," she screeches in a wildly desperate voice I've never heard before.

"But I am," I say. I rip at the car handle behind her and she stumbles forward with the force of the door at her back.

I watch her figure shrink from the rear view mirror as I drive away.

My roller-coaster was going up. Or down. Either way, it was going.