The Walk Home: Rose

I've never noticed how far apart street lights are. Every post feels like a mile stone. The beach is far behind now. Grass and oak erase the smell of salt. I want to turn around, but anger and pride won't let me. So I keep straight, not daring to look back.

Old beach houses are on either side of the street. Most are occupied, some have been abandoned for years with the exception of occasional B&E druggies.

Under another light post, I cover my face from the gnats and moths flying about.

"Which way is your house?" he asks.

I tell him, glad for the break in silence. When I ask where he lives he says Branford, a well known gated community with amenities like tennis and golf. I've never been on that part of town.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing. You're just rich."

He sighs. "Yeah. I am."

"Is the grass greener?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Of course. It's artificial."

I point my thumb in the direction of my neighborhood. "This is me."

I'm prepared to finish the walk alone, but he follows me. I thank him. He says it's no trouble, that he enjoys talking to me.

"I'd never let someone walk alone this late," he says. "You seemed pretty upset earlier."

"I still am. I'm sure my grandmother is up waiting for us." I bite my lip, picturing her worried face. "Can you call Dan? No matter how upset I was I shouldn't have left her."

He makes the call, and I try not to notice his expensive phone. "It's going straight to voicemail. Weird, his phone was charging in the car."

"Thanks for trying, anyway."

"No problem."

He smiles politely and I look away. "So, Dan's not someone to worry about, right?"

"Not too much. But he can be wild."

"Wild?"

"He needs excitement. Always throwing parties and onto the next best thing. He gets a thrill out of messing with his parents. One time, he went home drenched in pink paint. Another time, half of his clothes were singed off. Said there was an incident at a bonfire. And I guess tonight he'll go home soaking wet. Like I said, wild." Smile lines crinkle his face.

"I can't believe I left her." Dan sounds like the lighter fluid to Angie's hot coals. There's no telling what reckless things they'll do tonight.

"He should be getting home soon. He has a curfew," he says reassuringly.

"I still don't know what I'm going to tell my grandma. She told me to go with Ang tonight. I can't show up without her."

"She told you to go with Angie?"

My cheeks heat up. I must sound so uptight. "That's kind of her thing. She nags me, and I go." We hook a left into my neighborhood.

"So, who do you do this for?"

"All of us. I don't want my grandma worrying, and I want Ang to be safe. She's reckless on her own. Some days I wish I didn't care."

I don't know why I'm telling him this. He's just another person in the sea of people Ang and I have hung out with this summer. But it feels good to vent. It's nice for a change.

"That's selfish."

"I know. I shouldn't think like that. If she got hurt, I don't know what I'd do."

"It's selfish for your grandma to put that pressure on you. Angie is her own person. You only get one life, and that's enough to handle. Just do your own thing, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah," I say with a grin. "Skip the dramatics?"

"Forget the opinions."

My house pops into view and I get insecure. I wasn't expecting him to walk me home. It's an average suburban house, but by comparison I'm sure it doesn't look like much. I never took myself as the kind of person to care about financial class, but being around him makes me do nothing but compare.

"Thanks for walking me home." I step onto my porch.

"Of course. This was good. I love being stranded on hot summer nights. Let me know when you wanna do it again." His smile lines are practically imprinted around his mouth.

We're the same height once I reach the third step. His cologne is a clean scent. Before I can think of something to say, Dan's red car pulls up. I look anywhere but at Ang.

"Don't sweat it Angie. Your grandma can't be that upset," Ben says.

I roll my eyes. Angie never cares about getting grandma worried.

"Ben, hop in! I'll give you a ride back," Dan says from his noisy car. He's blasting some rock music that I don't listen to.

"Thanks again, Ben," I say, turning on my heels.

I stomp up the porch and shut the door behind me. I rush upstairs, making it hard for Angie to catch up. I don't feel like talking. Grandma's bedroom light turns on. She goes into the hallway towards Angie's room. I close my door, hop on the bed, and throw a pillow over my head, waiting for the blow. They argue about her coming home late, and some red marks on her neck and legs...

This goes on for half an hour. It overwhelms me with exhaustion. The last thing I hear before closing my eyes is Angie's door slamming. And the last thought on my mind is hot summer nights.