The Runaways.

 You don't plan things like this. I mean, some people probably do, but we didn't. I knew if things got too crazy at home, I'd just go to Tate's house, or maybe Spencer's. But no, running away was never a planned idea.

 Spencer called. It was late and rainy, and I wasn't looking forward to driving to her house in the rain, but I would if she needed me. "Hey," She said casually, having worked on her nonchalant voice until it was perfect. It was a skill required for her many lies.

 "Hey, everything okay?" I asked, knowing there definitely was, but also knowing I had to push it out of her. There was a sigh from the other end of the line, and finally I could tell she was crying. "Eh, it's probably not safe really."

 Spencer tried to warn me, but she was my best friend, so I'd be there for her. "I'm coming anyway. Your aunt doesn't scare me." I said, standing from the bed, completely sure that was who caused her meltdown.

 I should've taken her warning, but I was content with the fact that I didn't. It wasn't her aunt, it was her brother and her father. Her father who wasn't aloud near any of them, and her brother was fighting him in the front yard. Spencer was waiting in her car, so I joined her.

 She tried to put up a tough front, but in reality, she was the most sensitive of my female friends. "How'd that a-hole get here?" I asked, sitting in the passenger seat and closing the door. And I didn't expect what came next. "Doesn't matter," She mumbled, and before I could say anything else the engine was on and we were speeding away.

 I didn't freak out, I was actually expecting her to drive away, I just wasn't sure where we were going. "Turn right, we can go to Tate's house." I sighed, one glance told me she was as clueless as I.

 She made me walk up to the door, because apparently you can be friends with someone for three years, and 'not know him'. I knew his parents wouldn't be there so I just tossed a rock at the window and told him to come outside. That's when Spencer flipped.

 "Ohmigod, guys, I can't go home. I can't. My aunt will flip shit when she realizes the car's gone. Crap. Oh god," Tate placed his hand on her shoulder, comfortingly, but she plopped onto his front porch stairs. "Spencer, it'll be alright...we'll think of something..." I said, trying to think of anything. And that's when Tate changed the lives of seven people, with four words.

 "We could run away,"

 At first it seemed like an impossible idea, but before I knew it, it wasn't just Spencer and I. It was Spencer, and Tate, and Kait, and Damon, and Jackson, and Elijah, and me. We left in Tate's truck, which barely fit seven people.

 ~

 The officer glanced up at me, then back to his notepad. And I was growing impatient, "Look, I've got a really nice cell to be looking at for the majority of my life, so can we hurry this up? I can't wait to go back. And why are you asking me if I'm Bryn, shouldn't you know?"

 He chuckled, sipping his coffee which left a trail in his mustache. "Because, we wanted you admitting it on tape." I groaned, he was a pathetic excuse for a cop, and sitting in the same room as him confirmed to me why people got away with things. He was almost too ignorant to function.

 "Alright, Jim, tell me this. If you know everything, then why am I in jail? Besides running away, the obvious." I asked, tapping my finger against the table, making a blunt thud. Jim smirked, "I don't have to play your games, D'Jacimo. You're here because you helped Elijah McDowell and Damon Harmon murder a middle-aged man."

 I shook my head, pressing my lips. "Nope, that isn't it. I'm here because you all do a shitty job, and seven kids were raised terribly. So terribly, that we were more than willing to run away. And in order to survive, yeah, we killed a guy. If you look at it like that, you should be the one being questioned."

 I smiled, now prepared to tell them everything that happened since the moment we left. Now that Jim had a different point of view on the situation.