Love Me Crazy

by M. N. Forgy

  “This is probably just a place to score drugs or something. I doubt anyone actually sleeps here.” I assume.

  “That’s fucked up,” River sighs, still looking the bed over.

  Climbing on the stiff mattress, I smell the pillow before laying down. It smells like mildew, but at least it’s not a dead animal.

  “You know what, this might be the first night I sleep with my clothes on,” River laughs, trying to lay down next to me. She looks so awkward as she tries not to touch the mattress while trying to get into the bed.

  I laugh, and her head jerks my way. Her cute little nose snarling as heated eyes stare me down.

  “This is so not funny.”

  “It is.” I laugh harder.

  Laying on her hands, so she doesn’t have to touch the pillow her eyes shine making this dump not seem so bad with her by my side. This is just something we will laugh about later.

  “Where are we going, Warner?” she whispers. “We need a place to go.”

  My eyes become heavy and I shrug. She’s right, we’re just driving west, but eventually we’ll run out of road. We need a destination.

  “Where do you wanna go?” I ask, my throat hurting as I’m so damn tired.

  She smiles, closing her eyes.

  “We could always go to the beach, but I don’t know… I want to go somewhere green.”

  “Green?” I ask behind a yawn. I never saw myself wanting to go somewhere where it’s green. Beach, different country, something like that I could see.

  “Yeah,” she whispers. A log cabin pops into my mind. The one my mother and I went to when my mom was determined to leave my father. Pink was the lady’s name we stayed with. It was with and she lived in Colorado. Maybe she still lived in the log cabin on the tallest mountain. That’s all I can remember of the place though. Besides all the pink crap.

  “What about Colorado?” I suggest, remembering the bright brush and smell of leaves everywhere.

  She giggles. “We could live in the mountains and get stoned every day.”

  I try to laugh, but I’m too tired. All I can muster is a smile and fall asleep thinking of my hippie girlfriend trimming her pot plants while I sit on the porch watching her bend over.

  “My mom has a friend there named Pink, she’s so cool. She has pink hair and even a pink dog.”

  River’s eyes light up. “She would take us in?”

  “My mom said she’d take us in whenever I needed it. I can’t remember where she lives exactly but how many people go by the name Pink?”

  River smiles, taking my hand. “Colorado, here we come.”

  River

  Waking up this morning I feel stiff as I tried not to move on the bed too much. Huey cries next to the bed wanting out.

  Sitting up, I head to my bag for some clean clothes. I pull out a black dress that dips in the front and has gold triangles all over it.

  “Where are you going?” Warner asks with a sleepy voice.

  “Huey needs to pee, and I forgot his food in your truck,” I tell him.

  Warner sits up, rubbing his eyes. Grabbing the remote next to the bed he turns the TV on, and a crappy view of the news comes on. I’m surprised it even works.

  “I’ll go with you. This place is scary as fuck, I don’t want you out by yourself.”

  I bite back the smile tugging at my lips. His protective side is adorable.

  Putting Huey on his leash, we all head outside. It’s cloudy out, but the wind is warm. Looks like a stormy day ahead of us. Walking across the parking lot, I check my phone, tons of messages from my parents still. More threatening today.

  Glancing over at Warner, I notice his grimace.

  “Your dad still not calling you?”

  He shoves his phone into his pocket and doesn’t reply. His dad is a piece of fucking work. It goes to show what we’re doing is the right thing.

  “Let’s get some coffee and donuts, and hit the road.” Warner points to a gas station across the street.

  “You had me at coffee,” I moan. No traffic on the road we head across the street and into the store.

  I grab a Starbucks coffee, and Warner stands in front of the donuts.

  I step up next to him to inspect the goods, but we both just stand there and watch two roaches duke it out over a sprinkle that fell of the donut next to them.

  “I wouldn’t eat that.” A female voice sounds from behind us. We turn and there stands a girl with blonde hair hanging out of a ponytail, her nose is pierced, and I swear her eyes are black like the ripped up jeans she’s wearing.

  “I’m Ilsa, and this is my boyfriend, Cassius.” A guy casually steps up from the candy aisle with a bag of chips and an energy drink in his hands. His hair is crew cut and dark black. His eyebrows thick, and eyes bloodshot and blue. He’s wearing a black flannel shirt and white shirt wrinkled, and his jeans more than a little ripped.

  “Sup.” His tone raspy as if he’s a hard smoker.

  “Hi,” I greet them both. I haven’t seen anyone since we drove into this town, it’s nice to see some people our age. “I’m River, this is Warner,” I introduce us both.

  “Place is a fucking shit zone,” Cassius mumbles, running his hand back and forth through his hair as he looks over his shoulder.

  “Tell me about it.” Warner shakes his head, turning away from the donuts.

  “Are you guys staying at the—” I pause, pointing to the motel.

  “Fuck no, we slept in his van,” Ilsa replies, looking up to Cassius like he’s her whole world. They seem similar, yet the look in her eyes tells me maybe they’re not.

  “Where y’all headed?” Cassius asks.

  Grabbing onto Warner’s elbow, I give a light squeeze. We don’t know these people, so it’s best if we just be nice and get the hell out of here. “Just traveling,” I shrug.

  Ilsa looks me up and down. “We’re headed west, far away from our parents.” Her teeth slide over her lips a little longer than necessary when she says the word far. I wonder why they’re running?

  “Well, we better get. This place reminds me of The Hills Have Eyes,” Warner states, my squeezing his arm must have worked.

  “That it does!” Cassius points at Warner, his smile bright and charming. In a punk rocker kind of a way, he’s kind of cute actually.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of this place,” I whisper under my breath and turn to the cashier.

  Warner pays for my coffee, and we head across the parking lot.

  Ilsa yells my name and I stop. “River, right?” She squints an eye, holding a white box in her hands.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” My voice hesitant.

  “Here, we got these yesterday.” She hands me the box. Looking through the clear top, it has two donuts in it.

  “Thanks!” My stomach growls thinking about the sugar load headed my way. She gives a small smile and runs back to her van where her boyfriend awaits.

  “That was weird,” I state.

  “They seem cool, but this place has me on edge,” Warner tells me, and I nod in agreement. If I met Ilsa and Cassius anywhere else, I’d probably be more chill. But this place is so different, I have my guard up to everything.

  Coming up to Warner’s truck I notice our hotel door is wide open.

  “Um, did you leave our door open?” I ask Warner, side-eyeing him with concern.

  He looks at me with wide eyes before looking at the motel. “No!” He jogs to our room, and I tug on Huey’s leash to catch up. Please tell me we just didn’t shut it all the way.

  “Fuck!” Warner hollers, and my heart falls to my stomach. Stepping inside the motel room, my bag is completely emptied all over the floor. My art supplies, makeup, clothes, all of it, everywhere. “The fucking money is gone,” Warner huffs, plopping down on the bed.

  “No,” I mutter under my breath. Dropping to my feet, I go through everything to make sure he didn’t overlook it. I sift through my socks, shirts, sketchpad, everything. But he’s right, there’s no money here. Som
eone stole it.

  Angry and fucking done with this place I toss my empty bag across the room, stand up and I march outside the room. I want a refund! This place is a fucking joke!

  “River!” Warner hollers after me. Pushing on the front door to the main lobby, I nearly slam my face into the glass door as it doesn’t budge. It’s locked. Isn’t that convenient?

  “You think he stole it?” I ask Warner now standing next to me.

  Warner shrugs. “He’s the only fucking one around here, of course he did. I don’t know what makes me more angry. The fact I was duped, or my money was stolen. I don’t like feeling stupid, and right now I feel really fucking stupid… and broke.

  Slamming my fist on the door, I scream. “Are you fucking kidding me? Open this door right now before I call the cops!” I’m clearly lying, I can’t call the cops.

  “Come on, we’re fucked. They know we’re underage, they know we ain’t calling anybody.” Warner tugs on my shoulder.

  Gritting my teeth and shaking my head, I go back into our room and pace. I’m so mad I begin to chew on my nails. They’re not getting away with this. He’s probably back in his office laughing at us, calling us stupid kids. Back in our room, I nearly step on my paint and I stop, glaring down at it on the floor. This makes me mad too, paint and supplies aren’t cheap. I freeze, an idea popping up in my head.

  Grabbing the paint, I jump on top of the bed and start rubbing it onto the wall.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Warner asks, moving out of the way.

  I write letter after letter, a huge smile on my face as I relinquish the anger pent up inside my body. “Art!” I snap. Standing on my tiptoes, I finish my work of art and step down out of breath.

  “Fuck you, pecker heads,” Warner reads what I wrote out loud, his arms crossed.

  “Yeah, he’ll have to clean it or pay to clean it.” I shrug, feeling better that I vandalized his property. “I don’t know, I just feel better,” I snarl.

  Done looking at the red painted letters on the wall, I turn around to put my things away and my eyes sweep across the TV in the process. I freeze. My face pales, and my heart stops beating causing my lungs to burn like hot coal.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Warner steps up next to me, and tenses like ice. We both stare at our pictures plastered on the TV from the local news.

  “Warner Nine is missing and is a suspect in his father’s murder, it is said he has River Addington with him, but it’s unclear if she is willing or threatened at this time. If you see either of these kids, please call your local police station.”

  Warner laces his fingers with mine, and my eyes fill up with tears taking in what the reporter just said, that Warner is a suspect in his dad’s murder. I jerk my hand free, my head starting to ache. Murder? His dad is dead?

  “Did… Did you kill your dad?” I ask with a mere whisper, not taking my eyes off our pictures. Warner’s football picture, and mine from one of our family photos. I know Warner and his dad weren’t close, but I can’t see Warner being a murderer, but then again why did he try and run away in the middle of the night so quickly?

  “No.” Warner’s jaw clenches, offended I even asked him. My mouth parts and I look at him. My chest rises and falls as I stare at him, wondering how his father died. Did he do it? Is he lying?

  He did come to me in the middle of the night in a frantic state ready to run. Even if he did do it, I can’t blame him. The man used him as a punching bag far too long, I just need to know the truth so we can protect each other.

  16

  Warner

  “Warner and River don’t belong on the road. They’ll knew that, they didn’t have it in them to survive.” - Ilsa

  “Then who did?” River screams at me, her cheeks red and eyes filling with tears.

  “I don’t fucking know!” I try and explain to her. “Maybe your parents did something!”

  She crosses her arms, her jaw flexing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just saying, you said it yourself. Your parents are involved with some shady shit. If they know you’re with me—”

  “Jesus Christ,” River huffs as if I’m being ridiculous. She points at me, not blinking. “Tell me, tell me what happened again. What happened when you left your dad.” She cries, her teeth grinding against each other. I’ve never seen her so upset, shouldn’t I be the one freaking out, it was my dad. Even if I hate him, I really am alone now.

  “We yelled, shoved each other around, he hit me, and I hit him back. Then he cut me, I told you!” I shout. I cannot believe she doesn’t believe me.

  “Don’t you lie to me,” she cries breathless. She gasps for air, and I step up to her and wrap my arms around her.

  “I swear I didn’t do it,” I whisper in her ear. She inhales a breath, putting her whole body into it, she slowly calms in my arms. “But I’m not sorry it happened.”

  “Maybe we should go back and—” She begins to speak and stops.

  Giving her space, I back up and plop down on the bed, I sigh. My hands in my hair. Everyone thinks I’m a murderer. “I can’t go back, nobody will believe me I didn’t have anything to do with this,” I mumble. So many people saw the bruises and looked away. How many times did Sheriff Randall come over just to threaten me to get in line.

  River sits next to me, hanging her head in dismay. Her cheeks tear-stained and eyes swollen.

  “You should go back,” I tell her, trying to save her from what comes next. Cops looking for me.

  Her head pops up, her shoulders tense. “No, I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice stronger than before. “I didn’t leave anything back in Georgia.”

  “You stay with me, and they might think you’re involved.”

  “I don’t care,” she whispers. “We’re a team.”

  “Even if I killed my old man?”

  Her pretty eyes bat, her throat swallowing as she thinks about it. “Even if you did, I’d still be by your side,” she whispers, looking down at the floor with a haunted look on her face.

  “I didn’t kill him,” I tell her matter of fact, but she doesn’t seem to budge from my admission.

  Needing control, needing to feel her, I grab her hand and interlock my fingers with hers, and my heart does this thing where I feel like it’s going to thump right out of my chest. I’m relieved she’s staying because I don’t want her to go. I want her by my side all the time, because even when she’s next to me… she’s all I think about.

  “I wonder how he died?” she whispers, her finger playing with her lip coyly, and my eyes shift to the window in thought.

  My mother died, and I was sad, I was for a long time and was mad at everyone. It was as if someone burnt my house down and took my life away, but yet the house was still in one piece and I was walking through a ghosted life. Trying to piece things back together that I felt weren’t really there to put back together. But knowing my father died… I feel nothing. Like when you go to get a shot and they tell you it’s going to hurt, and you brace yourself knowing it’s going to pinch deep, yet you feel nothing when it’s said and done. It’s rare when it happens, but it does happen.

  17

  River

  Kansas

  “Yeah I saw their truck on my property, but I didn’t pay them no mind. Didn’t think of calling the cops that’s for sure.” - Pond owner.

  Sitting shotgun with Huey laying in the floorboard, chocolate on my fingers from the donut I ate from Ilsa, we head toward Colorado. My feet are on the dash, my turquoise toes bobbing to the tone of “Girls Like You” by Maroon 5.

  “I feel really dirty,” I groan, pulling at my clothes and sucking on my sticky fingers.

  “Me too,” Warner admits.

  “Maybe we should find one of those shower houses or something?” I suggest. When my parents and I would move from state to state, we stopped at a gas station once that had a lot of truckers. They had dryers, and showers, and a restaurant. It was kind of cool to see.


  “Those cost money,” Warner sighs. Reminding me we’re broke. Pissed at our current situation, I plop back against the seat. This is just great, how the fuck are we going to live.

  Warner pulls off the road onto a field.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask hysterical. He just drove off into a field!

  The truck bounces and weaves across the hard grass, and he drives around a circle of trees.

  Without saying a word, he points out my window. Looking at what he’s showing me, I notice a lake. Oh my shit, he’s suggesting we bathe in the lake.

  My head snaps to his.

  “I’ve never swam in a lake.” What if there’s snakes or turtles!

  He chuckles. “I figured.” Opening the door, he jumps out. Taking his shirt off, exposing his back muscles. His tattoo doing things to my body. It’s so masculine.

  Fuck, he’s serious. We’re swimming in a lake. Climbing out of the truck, Huey limps down and runs wobbles for the lake, his cast not slowing him down much. I knew he would, he loves water. Holding my arms above my head I stretch, it feels good having the blood flow back through my limbs. The sun is hot, the smell of fish water mixing with dead grass fills my lungs.

  “Is there like, snakes or fish in it?” I ask, stepping up to the murky water.

  “Probably, it’s a lake,” Warner chuckles, taking his pants off.

  Biting my nails, I’m scared of getting in, but God, to rinse off would be amazing. My stomach clenches, and I frown. That donut is not setting well.

  Warner climbs a tree and dives into the water. Splashing Huey and I. Huey barks, and I laugh. He’s so outgoing and laidback. I love that about him.

  Warner’s head pops up, a charming smile across his face.

  “Come on, babe!” He flings his wet hair from his face. That cocky smirk fitting into place.

  Giving in, I pull my dress from my body, kick my sandals off and tiptoe into the water. It’s cool around my skin, but it scares the shit out of me that I can’t see through it. The bottom feels like mud and is so gross. Getting closer, Warner pulls me close, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

  I laugh, kissing him.

  “This is all we had to swim in as kids,” Warner tells me. “My mom would take me swimming and I would cry because I hated touching the bottom, so she would carry me around like this.”