Chapter Five

Brooklyn

I have no clue how long I’ve been sitting out here, lost in thoughts of a certain blue eyed guy from my past and just how different my life is compared to his. 
I bet he had a loving family to come home to each day after school and didn’t have to lock his bedroom door at night for fear of who may come through it or what they may make him do.
I bet he always had hot food on the table and an even hotter shower each night, unlike my luke warm showers and elbow noodles and tomato sauce that I would eat for dinner, and that’s if I even got to eat at all. There were times when I would go days with little more than water before Gary remembered to buy food—always too busy with more important stuff.
I can guarantee that he never went without a meal though. 
I’m still grumbling about how unfair life can be when someone squats down in front of me.
“What are you doing?” A deep voice asks, scaring the shit out of me. “It’s pouring.” He states, as if it isn’t obvious. 
I cast him a glance but don’t bother with a response, it’s not like he really cares anyway. The only reason anyone has ever given a single shit about someone like me is becuase of what rests between my thighs.
“So, it’s going to be like that, huh?” he asks, sounding exasperated. When I still don’t respond, he sighs and says, “Look, I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed and I can’t in good conscience leave you out here in the pouring rain.”
“I’m not sleeping with you!” I state, my voice cold. I still haven’t looked at him other than that first glance when he first startled me, but I can feel his entire body stiffen up at my words.
“I didn’t ask you to,” he practically snarls. Then after a moment, he lifts his hands in the universal gesture for *I come in peace* and much more gently says, “I’m just offering a warm and dry place to sleep. That’s all.” 
I take him in from the corner of my eyes and consider my options.
*I really would like somewhere to sleep where I didn’t have to keep one eye open for fear of what may happen to me in my sleep.*
*But* can *I trust him?* I can’t help but wonder, *but what other choice do I really have? My only other option is to camp out here or somewhere equally as miserable all night since I lost my bed for the night at Teddy’s.*
"Answer me one thing first," I say, curious about his business with Teddy.
Yeah, he may have gotten into trouble now and again in high school but running and dealing drugs, he's too good for that kind of shit.
He gives me an expectant look, so I just ask him. "What's with the Monroe bullshit and why are you dealing to someone like Teddy? We both know you're better than that."
His mouth slightly quirks up at my unintentional compliment, but he just shrugs, "Had a falling out with my family a few years back. Been trying to lay low ever since. In a college town like this, with this face." He says, his mouth stretching into a cocky smirk, "using a different name is the best way to do that."
"Still doesn't make sense," I mumble, trying to figure him out.
"Doesn't have to. All that matters is that I get to lay low, pay my bills and have a bit of fun whenever I want to."
“I guess,” I grumble as I stand up, "Fine. I'll stay, but I'm still not fucking you," I growl, not sounding the least bit grateful for his kindness. He watches me for a moment as if already regretting his decision to help me before turning and heading towards the row of apartment buildings.
Crossing the parking lot, he leads me up a set of stairs. We turn right at the top of the second flight of stairs and stop in front of a door marked 21D. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the door. I’m surprised when he steps back and allows me to step inside first.
*Maybe chivelry isn’t completely dead afterall,* I can’t help but think as I take in my surroundings.
The living room is pretty big for a single male to be living in alone, and much cleaner than I had expected. For furniture, there is a couch and loveseat set, and a recliner, all in a matching navy color. The curtains are gray and the walls are bare, except for a clock above the couch and a key holder and coat rack put up by the door. There are also several bookcases on either side of the windows, lined from top to bottom with books and a couple of pictures.
“You’re going to need to get out of those wet clothes,” he states, halting my perusing of his space with my eyes. “I’ll get you something of mine that you can change into. The shower is down the hall, the first door on your left. Towels are in the little closet behind the door, shampoo, soap, all that stuff is in there too. If there is anything else that you need, just holler.” He offers and then heads in the direction that he had just indicated but enters the first door on the right, instead of the left.
As soon as I’m left alone in the room, his absence is obvious and I don’t like the way that it makes me feel.
*It’s just one night,* I remind myself as I forego my perusal of his space and make my way toward the bathroom.
Switching the light on, I find that the bathroom is also very clean—and I don’t know why this surprises me so much, but it does—and is decorated in gray and red.
Inspecting my reflection in the mirror before stripping my clothes off, I stare at the face of a woman that I almost don’t recognize. Yes, it’s still my face but my long brown hair is stringy and flat from the rain, my dark eyes appear sunken from the toll that life has had on me.
*God, I’m a mess.*
Peeling my clothes off one article at a time, I place them in the sink so that they don’t pool water all over his clean floor and step into the shower, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, setting to just this side of lava.
After scrubbing my hair with his strawberry-scented shampoo and rinsing my skin with soap that is purely male, I grab the towel off of the counter. Wrapping it around my body, I step out to find a pair of heather gray sweats, a pair of men’s boxers, and an orange shirt placed on the counter next to the sink.
Once dressed and finally managing to get the clothes to lay comfortably, after having to roll both the boxers and the sweats to make them fit even remotely decent, I grab one of the hair ties off my wrist and tie up the back of the too big shirt he provided and use the other to pull my wet strands of hair into a messy ponytail on the top of my head.
My wet clothes are no longer in the sink and I can’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable with knowing that he had to have come in here to get them while I was showering, but even worse is I didn't even notice.
*You have to be more careful,* I inwardly chastise myself as I make my way back towards the living room. *You don't know him any more than he knows you. You can't let your guard down just because he's being nice and has a pretty face.*
Upon entering the living room I find him sitting on the couch, a plate with a sandwich and one of those massive movie pickles balanced on its arm and his hand buried in a bag of chili cheese Fritos sitting in his lap. Two cans of soda are setting on the floor at his bare feet.
“Thank you for the shower,” I murmur awkwardly. I want to remark about him violating my privacy by coming in and getting my clothes but think better of it. But now I'm stuck wondering, *What now?*
“Think nothing of it. Sorry, I didn’t really have anything that would fit you.” He says with a nod of his head toward me, indicating the clothes that are just barely hanging on my slim frame. 
“Are you hungry?” he then asks, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I thought about making you a sandwich but didn’t really know what you liked. You can also have the pickle or some of these if you would like,” he offers, holding the bag of Fritos out to me.
“Thank you,” I say, closing the distance between us. Swiping the bag from him, I take a seat on the chair and dig my hand into the bag, grabbing a handful of the delicious corn chips.
He holds out the plate holding the sandwich and pickle out to me. I think about it for all of a second before grabbing another handful of the Fritos and then trading them out for the pickle.
Licking my lips, my jaws begin to clench with anticipation of the salty and sour goodness. “Damn, this bad boy is massive!” I remark and open my mouth to take a bite.
“That’s what she said...” he retorts, smirking at me with a mischievous twinkle in his pale blue eyes.
I just sit there, mouth wide open, the massive pickle resting between my thumb and forefinger just outside of my mouth, while gaping at him, probably looking like I'm preparing to deepthroat the damn thing if I'm honest, when he does one of those half-snort half-laugh things and then busts out laughing, which causes the chips to fall to the floor as he slaps his palm against his knee at the hilarity of the moment.
“Shit!” he exclaims as he reaches down to retrieve the fallen bag of chips, laughing even harder.
“Uh...I didn’t...um...shit!” I curse, trying to figure out what to say to that.
“Oh, fuck! You should have seen the look on your face! Shit, that was priceless!” Still laughing, he at least manages to regain enough control to formulate more of a sentence than I seem to currently be capable of.
I find myself laughing along with him, only I’m laughing at the stupidity of my words, or lack there of, and at my current situation, my who damn life really. 
It’s all just fucking stupid!
“That was awesome and you know it! Anyway, why were you sitting out in the rain?" Jackson asks, looking at me curiously. "Don’t you have a car? Do you need to call someone to come get you?” By the time he's finished asking the tone in the room has shifted and not for the better.
Dropping my head into my hands, I shake my head no, shame coursing through me. 
“No?” he questions at my lack of an actual answer.
When I think I can face him without him seeing right through me, I lift my head back up and attempt a smile but I'm afraid that I land somewhere in the realm of a grimace.
“Hey, what’s going on? You wanna talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft, as if he actually cares.
Of fucking course.
“No, some of us weren’t fortunate enough to be given a car,” I snap, because, of course, he would think that. But I didn’t have a Daddy who loved me and just doled out cars like they were candy. “And no, I don’t have anyone that I can call to come and get me.” 
“You know, I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to be a bitch,”
“You know what? Fuck you!” I shout. Standing up, I walk to the door and slip on my wet shoes. “I’ll figure it out. Thank you for letting me borrow your shower and some dry clothes. I’ll get them to you once they're washed,” I say, turning away from him. I open the door and brace myself to step back out into the downpour.
“Now wait just one goddamned minute!” he demands, and reaching around from behind me, slams the door shut. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? It’s still damn near a tsunami out there and from the sounds of it, you have nowhere to go and no one or nothing to take you wherever you do decide to go. So, exactly what do you think you’re doing?” 
“Why do you even care?” I growl, turning around to face him, not at all expecting him to be standing as close as he is. I flatten myself against the door, trying to put some distance between us as I mutter, “It’s not like you ever cared before.”