9. Chapter 8
I need to wake myself up, so I crank up the second Linkin Park album, Meteora. I get up and walk out of my room into the hallway. Feeling like a ghost, I wander through the house. Isis blinks at me with sleepy green eyes as I check my phone for messages. There are none. I drift out of the living room and into the dining room and the kitchen and into the hallway again. I float back into my room and remember that it’s Friday. I can give my TV life again. I pop in a DVD and cheer as Spider-Man kicks ass until my parents decide that they’re coming home after all. They clatter through the front door, cursing that damn checkout lady for scanning the wrong price on the Frankenberry and almost making the soup cans explode all over the tile floors of the store. Dad clomps down the hallway and grumbles when he realizes that their bedroom door is locked. I am not trustworthy. He starts to walk back down the hallway, but stops. A second later, his knuckles bu-bump against my door like a heartbeat. I stand and pull the door open. “What?”
“What?” he echoes, finishing to our standard greeting. He glances towards the living room. “I just wanted to see if you were awake.”
“Yep. Here I am.”
He nods and ambles away. “‘On the road again,’” he sings, quoting Bob Seger’s “Turn the Page”. His voice fades as he walks away into the living room, and I close the door.