“Morning sleepy, I brought you a pain au chocolat,”
“Ooo very French,” I smiled and sat up, Becky was wearing her cheerleading outfit and looked as divine as usual. She picked up her sport bag and started to rummage through it,
“You are welcome here for as long as you like, but do you think you should go back home?”
“I won’t stay here another night don’t worry, I’ll go somewhere else,”
“I don’t know a youth hostel,”
“Ruby, they are ridden with dirt, drunks and drugs,” she scolded, “Just go home.” She told me and left, Becky always knew what was right and it usually annoyed the hell out of me and this time as usual she was right. Perhaps if I went home I could persuade my parents it was a bad idea. I picked up my clothes from yesterday and put them on after borrowing a few of Becky’s cosmetics I left the house; the LA sun hit my face and made me smile despite the situation. It was a Saturday and I had a whole day with no school work at all, I had done it the night before.
I walked to the outskirts of Beverly Hills and up my drive. Father’s car was not in the drive and as I reached the front door I found it to be locked, I groaned and sat on the porch, where had they gone? After a while I got up and decided to go to my beach, I hadn’t told anyone about this place, not even Becky, it was my beach. If I walked to the back of the pool house there was a small palm tree wood, going down through that you reach a path, made by me, leading to a small, secluded beach. It was quiet and beautiful at the same time; I sat on a rock against a palm tree and dozed off.