It's raining. It's wet. I hate wet. I hate rain. But, alas, I had no other way of getting to where I needed to go, other than being in the rain...

You see, I, Elsie Loraine Montgomery do not enjoy being soaked to the bone. After nearly eightteen years of life, I still haven't been able to understand why, exactly, someone would want to drench themselves to the bone... for what? What fun is playing in the rain?

My bitter, sarcastic thoughts were interrupted by a screaming car horn. I turned around, wet hair slinging across my shoulders, and scanned the parking lot. There weren't many other cars in the lot, other than my beaten up Volkswagen- painted a delicious shade of beige, thanks very much- and the car that sat beside it.

My eyes landed firmly- rain drops still stinging them, mind you- onto a newer looking Ford... getting broken into. I shrugged- serves them right, I guess. It was probably karma- my wet, heavy jacket off of my shoulders, and threw it in the back of my Volkswagen, and slammed the back door down.

Now, I'm not sure if you've ever experienced an eviction or not, so I'll go ahead and explain how it goes. Well, how it goes by Drungeby's definition. He comes and bangs on your door, you refuse to answer, he unlocks the door with the master key, charges in, slams you against the wall and tells you that no number of oral sex favors were going to do me any good. Then he mumbled something about how him getting head wouldn't put food on the table... or something, I stopped listening after he said, 'No sex, get out.'

After jamming the key into the ignition, the car croaked to life, and I slammed my fist down on the heater button, hoping that it would come on full force- even if it makes me feel claustrophobic after a while. But whatever, it's cold. It's November.

Why the hell would it rain in November? In Florida, no less? That just doesn't make any sense! But whatever. I forgive the gods of the rain for causing it to ruin my day even further. I don't have enough time to spend fifteen minutes of my day mumbling to myself about the rain and my dislike of it.

"Alright," I mumbled to myself. "Where do I go now?"

My mother's house? Not even. She won't even look at me.

Kira's house? No, her mom hasn't liked me since Kira admitted to being bisexual.

Aiden's house? No, I think he's in Chicago visiting Amber this week.

I looked down at the analog clock on the dash. It was midmorning, and I should be in school right now. But I'm not. Infact, I haven't been in nearly a year, but whatever. I've been busy trying to stay alive.

I flipped on the radio, hoping that it would be of some relief, and possible help, and settled on a station I liked.

"This is X101.5, you're listening to Rob and Luther in the morning! The time is now ten forty-three. We only have about eightteen minutes left. Next caller, you're on the air!" I rolled my eyes. Rob and Luther? How much lamer could you get?

I mean, it was a talk show, for Christ's sake. How interesting could it be? There was no music involved, at all. Plus, these guys aren't actual professionals. They're just radio djs. They just sit in the chair, and hit the talk button every now and then, waiting for their four hours on the air to be up. Once every twenty minutes a commercial plays, and they don't have to be saying anything.

A sugary sweet voice flooded through the speakers of my car. "Um, yes. I have a question. Um, I haven't lived with my Mum in like, six months and my dad's halfway across the country.. And my boyfriend just kicked me out.. I need a place to stay, Rob and Luther. I'm broke, and I'm underage. What do I do?" There seemed to be some movement on Rob and Luther's end, and one of them cleared their throat. "Go to the Stakes!" A different voice, on Rob and Luther's end, suggested. "I stayed there for like, two years, when I didn't want to go home to my parents fighting over a divorce."

The Stacks, huh? That sounds interesting enough.

"The Stacks?" The girl repeated, a little disbelievingly. "What's The Stacks?"

The voice that first suggested it came back on the air. "From Monroe, turn right onto Lothian. Go about five miles, and it leads out of the city limits. There's a huge white house-- that's the place. It's like a teen center. They have beds if you want to crash for a while. And desks to do homework, huge entertainment rooms, a full kitchen, nice bathrooms and it's on five acres of land, so theres a huge yard surrounding the place."

I glanced up at the sign dangling from the powerline a few hundred yards infront of me. I squinted my eyes. Lothian was only a few blocks from where I was on Monroe. I could check it out, see if I like it or not. If it's a dump, I can split.

That sounds like a good enough plan, right?