Ceo my little

Well, this boy went on to live his dream without her, leaving her pregnant and alone. My mother didn't handle it well. She drank and tried to find love in all the wro

r, and there never would be. I never understood my mother. How could a woman who named her daughter Freya after the Norse goddess of love care so little about herself? My feet were blistered, my luggage unpacked when I arrived at the faded old trailer. I was barely holding it in. History was repeating itself. I was lost and heartbroken when I arrived here when I was four. Now, at twenty-five, I could say the same. I was in a blanket of darkness with nothing but stars to shine upon me when my grandfather opened the door. “Welcome home, my sweet girl.” And for the first time since leaving San Francisco, I cried because the 'perfect' life I had built for myself turned out to be a lie. Chapter Two Freya Fifteen years old God, I was freezing. That's what happened when I heard Rusty and ran away in the middle of the night so we could go to a bonfire. We never got to the bonfire because Rusty's truck broke down. The truck was as old as my grandpa's Chevy, and that was saying something since grandpa's Chevy was a dinosaur. Still, Rusty liked to boast that his truck had personality, and if by personality he wanted him to get laid since the back of his truck saw more ass than Heavenly, the stripper club that was a few miles away. , so yes, your truck was bursting with personality. Still, Rusty and I were best friends. We grew up together, both of us being only children. Our grandparents had been friends since the Vietnam War. At one point, Rusty's grandmother hoped we'd get married and have kids, the whole thing, but that would never happen. Not because I didn't find Rusty attractive, he was very handsome, shaggy brown hair, warm eyes, soft gazes, but underneath it all was the player persona. We were always fighting, getting on each other's nerves every two days. More importantly, it would never work because we were practically brothers. “You know what, Rusty? I go home. This truck won't start today, maybe not even tomorrow. Rest in peace, Bow.” I patted the old truck as Rusty looked at me. Bow was short for Rainbow since the truck was so faded and had 1 different colored parts. Bow also represented 'bed on wheels' you know, because the truck had personality. “You know what, Gabs? Your negativity is really hurting your feelings. Just watch, the one-day Bow is going to be a classic, and you're