I slammed the door to the trailer and kicked off my Converse. I padded to my bedroom silently in my socks, tears streaming down my face. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 2:39. I still had over four hours until William was going to be home. I knew he wouldn't leave early for me, so he would be back at the usual time of 7, if not later. I sighed and collapsed on my bed. I tossed and turned for a while, but I couldn't fall asleep, which was all I wanted to do. What seemed like hours later, I finally dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
I woke up to chuckling. I sat up to find a boy in my bedroom, his dark brown hair contained by a beanie, his tall frame sitting casually in my desk chair, spun around facing me. "What are you doing here?" I rubbed my eyes and yawned, then stretched.
"You were upset when you left," Marcus replied.
"You were there?" I asked. Marcus, the son of the props guy, had been my best friend for two and a half years. He was about to turn twenty-one, and he was closer to an older brother than a friend.
Marcus nodded. "Yeah. Dad needed to measure for the platforms." He took my hand and pulled me into a sitting position. "Y'know, Suri, you move a lot when you sleep."
"So I've been told," I replied, placing my thumbs next to my spine and attempting to pop my back. "What time is it?"
Marcus pulled out his phone. "Almost midnight."
I recoiled as if I had just been hit. I didn't think it was that late. There was no way I had slept that long. "Really?"
Marcus showed my the screen of his phone, and, sure enough, it was 11:48.
"Is William home?" I asked, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, despite the fact I had just slept for nine hours.
Marcus shook his head. "No, he went out with the boys."
I yawned again. "I'm so tired."
Marcus moved off of the chair to sit on the bed. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling comfortably at peace. He was the brother that I had never had, but had always wanted. He stroked my medium-length, blonde hair gently and leaned back against my headboard. "So, what happened with your dad?"
"Don't call him that," I whispered, my eyes closed.
"Sorry, what happened with William?" he corrected.
"I'm going home, but I'm not," I replied.
"That opens up so many possibilities," I didn't even have to look at Marcus's face to know that he was smirking.
"He scheduled a show in Wabash, and I'm guessing that all my friends will probably be there. He had to have known that. But now he's saying that I'm not allowed to see any of my friends." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and my voice cracked. "Or my mom. It's been three years since I talked to my mom."
Marcus laid down on my bed and wrapped me in his arms. "Hey, it's okay."
"Marcus," I started crying harder. "I miss her. I want to see her."
"I know, Sur, and you will."
I looked up at his face, and he was smiling. I wiped my cheeks. "I know that face."
He laughed and wiped a stray tear off of my chin. "You're an adult back home. Maybe you're just a kid here, but, back home, you can vote."
I chuckled. "Yeah."
"He can't stop you from going out. Heck, he couldn't stop you from staying in Wabash."
"He would kill me," I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed.
"Where ya going?" Marcus asked, his American accent similar to mine. He was from the US, too, but he was from Missouri.
"I haven't eaten since lunch. 12 hours ago," I stopped by my closet and pulled the doors open. "I'm also going to change into something more comfortable."
"Okay," Marcus flipped onto his side, and I knew he would be asleep before I came back. I stepped into the bathroom and stripped off my skinny jeans and polo shirt from work. I slipped into my bathrobe and went to the other side of the trailer to the drier and got a towel and washcloth, still warm. I stepped back into the small bathroom and locked the door, then started the water. The steam immediately made me feel better, and I thought about what Marcus had said. "He couldn't stop you from staying in Wabash." I stepped into the stream of hot water and rinsed out my hair. "You're an adult back home."
The last two words echoed in my head. "Back home. Back home. Back home. Back home." That was the only place I wanted to be. I didn't want to be here in Italy. The people talked differently, and you had to take a boat to get anywhere. This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to go back home to Savannah, with her dark hair and southern dialect, Brettan, with her blonde curls down her back and pink flip-flops, Nikole, with her big blue eyes and laugh like a bell, and Lily, with her boy-crazy hormones and savvy fashion sense. We had always been inseparable, up until William had come back in three years ago and whisked me away to foreign countries. Since I had left America, I had been to Italy, Ireland, England, Germany, Canada, Mexico, Belize, Brazil, Turkey, Romania, China, Russia, France, Poland, Spain, Norway, Switzerland, Portugal, Pakistan, and so many other countries. It was insane that, as a fifteen-year-old girl, I was drug all over the world with my dad, not even with One Direction most of the time. We just flew out to countries, set up meetings and tour dates, and then came back to join One Direction, wherever they were at the time. It was insane that I had to be a part of this. I didn't want any of it.
"He can't stop you from staying in Wabash."