It’s almost that time, just a half hour until midnight. The alarm on my new iPhone starts to ring over and over. I jerk out of my sleep.   

I grab the phone from my nightstand and hit the volume down button. I should have put it on vibrate, but I’m not used to the settings yet. My old phone only lets me call numbers approved by my adoptive parents. It bothers them how other teens walk around glued to their phone screens. They would not be happy to know I had this new iPhone. 

I look at the screen. My eyes are still a little blurry and need to adjust. I notice I have seven alerts from Facebook and five from Instagram. There are also a few texts from some of my friends.  

I want someone to tell my adoptive parents I’m not a kid anymore. They won’t listen to me when I try. Curfew is still 9 PM and it will always be 9 PM, even when I’m 40.   

They won’t be happy if they find out I’m going out in the middle of the night while they are asleep. But I’m 15 now. I don’t think I need so much protection. All this fuss is mostly because I’m a girl, but I can handle myself.  

It’s quiet in the rest of the house. I can hear the TV downstairs, so I know Dad is still in the living room. I walk down the hall, careful not to make any noise. I peek around the corner. He looks like he might nod off at any minute.  

I have to time everything just right. I’ve never snuck out before, but I planned it all out. I need to slip out soon. Although Saj isn’t here to pick me up yet, he won’t be able to stay on the road in front of the house for very long.   

I look in the bathroom mirror. My left eye is twitching. I try to get it to stop by placing a warm cloth against it, but it doesn’t help. 

Time is ticking away so fast. I wash my face, then rub my eyes and blink hard several times. Maybe I can down an energy drink on the way to the track.  

I grab a navy-blue Hard Rock t-shirt and a pair of Levi jeans hidden in my closet. I splash on some perfume a friend gave me as a Christmas gift. The scent is sure to bring me some attention. “Pride,” my father probably would say disapprovingly. He’s a minister at one of the neighborhood churches.  

My wavy brown hair is all over the place. I stuff as much of it as I can under a ball cap. Then I put in some ear buds to listen to music while I’m waiting for Saj. The music helps to calm my nerves. 

I could almost pass for a boy right now if someone saw me from far away. I’ve always been a little bit of a tomboy. I like to do things that boys like to do, but I still like being a girly sometimes. 

When I was 13, I built my very own Go Kart. My real mom didn’t think that was appropriate for a girl to be doing. But she let me do it, anyway. Dad’s brother Caleb ordered the parts for me. He helped me put it together.  

The very next year, I was driving it fast in an open field and flipped it. I barely remember it, but they say I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. My real mom said that almost gave her a heart attack.   

I desperately want a little more freedom now. I had a little more of it when my real mom was alive. She died in a car accident two years ago. I know that seems like a while, but I still miss her.  

Before that, we moved around a lot. She was a single parent doing the best she could. She had to work a lot of the time. Even though I had to take care of my little sister while my mom was at work, I got to see my Uncle Caleb more often than I do now. Child services couldn’t place my sister and me with Caleb. He was on the road too much and wasn’t married.  

Sometimes I envy my older brother, John. He left and joined the army when he was 18. I don’t think the U.S. Army’s rules could be any worse than this. I always say that to my friends and we all get a good laugh. They think I’m crazy, but in a good way. 

I asked John if he could get me an iPhone. I promised to pay him back. He added me to his phone plan a week ago. I plan to pay him back for each month from the money I make working at the auto parts store. 

My parents won’t let me race. My wings are clipped like a bird’s. They are growing back, though.  

I can’t wait to be free to do what I want.  

At home, I can’t listen to my music unless I use earbuds. Mom and Dad listen to gospel and a little country. I keep my music toned down so they don’t make a fuss about it.  Alone in my room, though, I make up a rap song occasionally. I’ve been trying to write one over the past few days. I don’t think it’s very good. But it starts out like this: 

“I’m freestylin’, profiling 

Always law abiding 

Can’t stop me 

Gonna get free 

Just wait ‘n see. 

Not gonna quit 

Got that grit 

Gettin’ it together 

In any kind of weather 

Don’t mess with me.” 

 * * *

I wonder why Saj hasn’t texted me yet. I’m sitting on the bed, waiting. Finally, the phone starts ringing in my pocket. Shaking my head at myself, I realize I should have put it on mute. Saj has just sent me three texts. They all come through at once.  

“U ready yet?”  

“Should I drive around again? 

“Y u take so long?” 

Saj’s real name is Sajahit. I call him Saj because it’s easier to say. Plus, it sounds cool. He’s a fun guy to be around. He’s always smiling and has a wicked sense of humor that everyone loves. His deep brown eyes twinkle when he’s up to something. He’s popular at his school.  

I wish he went to my school. I met him at a ball game when our school teams were playing each other. We instantly clicked because we both love basketball. But tonight would be the first time that I would meet his friends from his school. 

I have to get moving. Saj had told me that some of his other friends will be riding with us. I grab my backpack from the closet and set it on the bed. 

“Just give me 5 more minutes,” I text back.  

The reply that comes back is a simple, “K.”  

I think of my friend Sarah. I’m excited to see her at the track tonight. We made plans to go out after the races, too. I first saw her when our youth group went to visit another church. Her strawberry blonde hair falls around her shoulders in waves. Her eyes are a deep chestnut brown that take my breath away when she smiles. I don’t think that I’m gay, but something about being around her is nice. Maybe we could be best friends.  

I hesitate, wondering if this is all a mistake. What if my parents come in my room while I’m gone? I stuff the bed with pillows to make it look like I’m still in the bed. Then I give myself one of my pep talks again. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen? I’ll just be gone for a few hours.  

I push hard against the bottom of the window a few times to get it open. After removing the screen, I slip out quietly.  

I make it halfway between the house and the road before I hear the rustle of leaves. Then I hear the sound of someone running towards me from behind.