All Chapters of Not in a Million Years: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

He lives a few streets over from me. Being in the small town we’re in, of course we’ve known each other forever.I only had to enter the address in to find the route with less traffic.When I get there, only his car is in the driveway, parked haphazardly, and the door is ajar.Now, I know that the rational decision would be to run for the hills… or for help, but I decided to enter… cautiously, of course.I hear a rumbling noise coming from upstairs, along with heavy breathing and… growling?Please don’t be a burglar, please don’t be a burglar, please don’t be a burglar.Luckily, I know Aaron’s mom, and she always keeps a bat under the kitchen sink. I grab it and head upstairs to become a vigilante. With each steady step, I get more jittery and regret it.The noises get louder and louder until…“What the fuck?!” the bitch scream

Drake’s POV“What is it now?” I snap.“Problem at the oil rig,” the tattooed beast mumbles.“What fucking oil rig? We have hundreds of—”He dangles a bag of white powder before I can finish my sentence.Oh. Oil rig.I sigh, rubbing my temples. “What kind of problem?”“Some managers”—law enforcement— “stumbled on”—busted—“some weird activity”—our illegal drug business— “among the

“I think you missed the exit,” I whine. We’ve been on the road for at least 40 minutes. “I know the way to my friend—and co-worker’s—house, thank you very much,” Don smizes.I roll my eyes. “Would you rather be wrong or late?”She huffs and takes the nearest exit, while I refresh the navigation. Eventually, we end up in Stevie’s neighborhood in some obscure town in New Jersey.As soon as we park in front of the house, the door swings open, but it’s Stevie instead of his brother. They’re roommates.“H-Hey, Don. Gen,” he smiles gingerly.

“Grandma’s or grandpa’s?” I ask.“Hmm?” mom mumbles as she puts on another layer of makeup.“Which one should we go to first?”Great—another reminder that marriage doesn’t last—at least in her eyes. She told me about her big romantic awakening with dad. How he promised never to hurt her like my grandparents did each other. How he promised to love her till death do them part.In her eyes, it’s all a lie, and I’m starting to think so, too.So, here we are: picking which Thanksgiving to go to first, not mentioning dad, and pretending like everything’s okay.I’m avoiding my “friends,” and mom has a new guy over every week: perfectly normal. And clarentonsecrets—aka. My best friend—is here to document it all.“Let’s go to grandma’s,” she chrips.She’s always been her favorite, seeing as gran

“Iced Matcha Latte for Gen,” Sarah calls. I didn’t even know what Matcha was. I just googled it while waiting for my drink, but I felt like I needed a change. I’m not the Caramel Macchiato Genevieve anymore. It’s weird to say, but it’s true. Crushed tea leaves. The color puts me off, but I’ll try it. I’ve already invested $4.50 into the new me. And Sarah didn’t even add a demeaning nickname to my cup. Progress? I think she moved onto a new victim to torment. I don’t have any fight left in me. I sip the drink slowly, and it’s pleasantly sweet. A little green tasting… don’t ask. It tastes like nature, but not in a gross way. Starting up the car, I head into the city. Approaching the office building that I had a key to just a few months ago, I sigh. I hate awkward interactions, but it’s time. I buzz the gate, stating my name. I was skeptical about if they would remember me, but the guard let me right in. I park in my usual