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All I had was a duffel bag filled with clothes and some money. I wasn't sure where I was going to go -- down south? Or to the Outer Banks? 

I walked down the street and found a guy leaning on his car. I didn't care who he was, or what car he had, I just needed to leave this place. I needed to get away from Dad.

"Can you take me to the Outer Banks?" I asked him. 

The boy was the same height as me, but he stood up straighter when his head looked up to see me. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh- yeah, sure." 

With his eyes wide, he opened the car door for me. "I can do it myself," I snapped. He didn't argue and walked around the car to the other side.

The car smelled like sweat and hints of smoke. Oh, God.

"So, where ya headed?" his breath stank of smoke. I would do anything to keep him from talking. I nearly gagged when he said, "Got a place to stay?"

"Just shut up and drop me off at the Outer Banks." I couldn't help myself. If I was going to sit there for more than five hours, I was not going to choke in his breath. This was almost as bad as staying home. 

I lived with my father, who was a greedy, selfish, hunk of fat that was lucky enough to have a good business. I was the invisible, 'ungrateful', daughter of the hunk of fat who was running away. I doubt he would even notice me gone. It was always his darkest wish, for me to leave. He never loved me or cared for me. My mother was someone he had left when she was pregnant, but karma's a bitch and I was left on his doorstep. 

He cared enough to feed me and provide me clothes, but never cared to talk to me or even watch a movie with me. He was busy with work, he used to say, but now, we don't even speak. Whenever I asked him for something, he gave it to me without a word. Which made it extremely easy for me to run. I don't think he'll even bother to look for me. It was good, I said to myself, I could find a new family.

A hand shook my leg to wake me up. My eyes pared opened and I saw the boy smiling in my face. His teeth were stained yellow, with some black holes. The most sickening thing was where his hand was, training up to my hip. I slapped his cheek with every bit of disgust that I had bottled away. "You piece of shit!" I screamed at him and opened the door. I had never loved fresh air more than at that moment. 

At least he hadn't brought me to some slum. The air smelled of salt and it was cool as it blew on my face. Seagulls cawed nearby and I could hear the gentle waves running to the sand. I was at the Outer Banks. 

I felt a hand on my waist, so I quickly elbowed him in the stomach. He groaned, but I immediately met my palm with his face again, a red mark starting to form. "Thanks, but I'm fine on my own," I spat to him and walked away.

 People walked along the sidewalk, going into stores, coming out of the stores. Some cars drove on the road, the trees were tall and provided some cool shade. The buildings weren't like the ones I grew up with. People's voices echoed around me, making me feel overwhelmed. I was actually here. I was at the Outer Banks. I'm free.

"Hey," someone called from behind me. I was far away from the boy with dirty hands and yellow teeth. "You don't look like you're from around here." This boy had long blond hair that fell over his blue eyes. They looked at me, up and down.

I wanted to shrink away. "No," I said firmly, putting a bit of distance between us. 

Like he had felt my uncomfort, he smiled brightly and offered me his hand, "JJ Maybank at your service." 

I shook it slowly and felt my shoulders relax. I raised my eyebrow, "Does that stand for Jason or John?"

He smirked and shook his head. His mouth opened to say something, but someone interrupted him. "JJ?" A girl with curly brown hair walked to him. She was wearing sunglasses and carried packs of beer. Maybe her Dad was like mine. "Come help me get these."

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