Same peculiar feeling
Freshman/Sophomore year
JARED
Rooted in the passenger seat of Ike’s car, I inhale a long drag of my cigarette, leg bouncing up and down at the thought of going inside the Garcias’ house. I stare ahead at the high school kids getting off the school bus.
It’s been a little over a month living here, and the well-kept exterior hides the filth behind closed doors. The Garcias are fucked up. Mr. Garcia drinks his face off and Mrs. Garcia’s—or Val as she insists we call her—dismal life is dulled by Adderall. But not enough to deter her from groping the boys.
“We could leave right now. Never come back.” Ike thrums a frenetic pace along the steering wheel. This is his daily shot at trying to get me to walk.
“It’s tempting.” I haven’t told him about Val’s advances—a brush here, a squeeze there.
I’m no whiny bitch and I’m handling it. Besides, he has likely guessed. She isn’t exactly discreet with her inappropriate flirting. We’ve both been here before and I’ve had worse.
“What’s holding you back?”
“I’ve got nowhere to live.”
“With me, dumbass.” He punches my arm.
The mob of teenagers scatter in all directions as the school bus lumbers on to its next stop.
“On the street?” I scoff, tracking a small girl crossing the street, her gait familiar.
He’s crashing in a dirty flophouse with whacked-out dope mongers, sleeping with one eye open. It isn’t any better than where I am right now.
I flick the glowing butt out the window, no longer giving a shit about the lawn or hopeful that this time will be different. This place is like all the others. It ain’t no home.
“And you know you’ll be tossed from that shithole in a day or two.” I clench my jaw at unintentionally being an asshole.
“It’s fucking temporary. Milo’s looking for a place for me.” Who is he trying to convince, him or me? Bullshit.
Now outside the car, I lean into the open passenger window. “Yeah, whatever. If you believe that shit, then I’m LeBron James.”
“Fuck you.” He pins me with an injured glare.
Living on the street is hard, and keeping your belly full is a constant struggle. There’s always someone looking to take advantage or rip you off.
For now, Ike has money coming in and a place to sleep, but it could all be taken away. And as much as I want to have his back, like old times, I also want my high school diploma.
I’ve got nothing if I walk. It may be only a piece of paper, but at least it’s a chance at a legit future. If Brenda could hear me now, she’d say her work here is done. Ike, on the other hand, would bust a gut, laughing in my face.
He talks about us working for Milo, stealing cars like he is right now, as if we’d be living the dream. He’s got coin but not much else. I’ve done odd jobs for Milo and, sure, the money is tempting, but I’d be trading one nightmare for another.
The cops are onto his crew and I’m not looking for heat. With the law breathing down my back, only time would hold me from a six by eight-foot future.
Ah, no thanks.
Abandoned at birth, I came into this world at a disadvantage and living has only made the divide even bigger. My one chance at a home was stolen by the grim reaper.
Grim, that’s about right. My only dream, if you can call it that, is simple, really. Get the hell out of the system unscathed and build a life.
The two of us linger in silence. My neighbor, the ever-so-helpful girl, strolls toward us, unaware of us. Her head is down, peering into her backpack.
She’s tiny, a pinch over five feet, if that, in a navy-blue dress. Skin a warm bronze and dark shiny hair, like midnight on water, is tied back in a low ponytail. She reeks of good girl.
We haven’t talked since that night in the park, and I want it that way, but she’s always around. I feel her gaze on me at night, thinking she’s so subtle, watching me from her bedroom window.
It isn’t clear what her game is, but she wants something. Is it because she kept her mouth shut when she caught me in her kitchen? Whatever it is, when she makes her move, I’ll be ready.
I’ve seen her in the halls at the high school and from what I’ve gathered, she’s a freshman, a year younger than me, and a popular little thing.
“Hey, Mama.” Ike bounds from the car, eyeing her like a lion would a gazelle.
Her head snaps up, stunned, until her gaze finds mine. A glowing smile slips across her face. “Hi, Jared.”
I dip my chin and tighten my jaw, struggling to squash the strange stirring in my gut at her delight in seeing me.
“Hey, pretty girl, you don’t have a hello for me?” He places his hand over his heart as if wounded by her neglect.
“Oh, sorry. Hi.” She tilts her head back to get a better look at him. He’s the same height as me, well over a foot taller than her.
“I’m Ike. What’s your name, sweet thing?” He considers himself a ladies’ man, and I fail to bite back my chuckle at her unease.
“Eva.” She peers around my friend, frowning when she takes in my cutting grin.
“Eva, ooh, I knew you’d have a sweet name to go with that sweet body.” He grasps the end of her ponytail.
The move is harmless, yet another weird sensation, this time surly and uncomfortable, churns within me, not liking his hands on her. The girl steps from his reach, eyes round like saucers threatening to fall out of her head.
Ike, only looking to tease not taunt, releases her long strands with a gentle laugh. The tightness loosens in my chest, and with relief, I cover my mouth to hide my anxious laugh.
I shouldn’t be getting off on her distress, but whatever angle she’s playing, I hope it dies a quick death now that she realizes we like to play games too. She’s out of her league.
“Um, do you guys want a snack?” She inches past us, her stare never wavering from me.
“Dayum, I thought you’d never ask.” He grabs at her silky hair again, and Eva swiftly sidesteps him.
She trembles ever so slightly, and that same peculiar feeling thickens and slithers through my gut. All of this feels wrong. We’re scaring her.
“Ike, leave her alone.” I finally step in between them and she relaxes, casting a grateful smile my way.
“Shit, girl, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“Do you want a snack?” Her voice is stronger, steadier this time.
I run my fingers through my hair, frustrated at her charity but also starving. Val uses food as a reward for being nice to her, and lunch money is scarce. Is offering food her sly way of reminding me about the kitchen incident and that I owe her for not ratting me out?
“We’ve got chips or churros.” A faint smile touches her lips. “You like churros, don’t you?”
Shit, is she putting me in my place or just being nice?
“Bring it all, baby,” Ike says.
“I thought you had to go?” I slap at his chest.
He frowns at the reminder of work. He’s been my ride to and from school for the past week with permission from Milo, of course. On the clock, he can’t stick around. If there’s one thing we both know, you don’t abuse his boss’s generosity.