Growing Pains | BOOK 2

1:9

April 13th, 1994. 9:49 A.M.

Dally whisked down the far stretch ahead of us, a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth and complicated swirls of brunette fluttering on top of his head. His eyes squint at the sunlight hitting upon his face, making the short stubble on his jawline more noticeable. I leaned over the rim of the door, watching myself in the side mirror, pretending to smoke too. The car pulls into an intersection then swiftly turns into a modern restaurant next to the gas station. The scent of roasted coffee beans made my stomach jilt, I felt like it could eat itself before I even ordered, "I need coffee." I half drooled with eyes gleaming, I was urging to get out of the car, then reality hit me, "Damn. We don't have money." I groaned, kicking the dash board. 

Dallas was finishing off the cigarette, "Has that ever stopped us before." He coughed, as usual he's correct. Money had never stopped us from getting what we want, and it's not like we were living the most legal lifestyle at this very second. I turned to him, "So, what's the plan?" I asked. He directs his vision to the entrances and exits, studying a quick plan, "Be inconspicuous and when I say run, you fuc*ing run." We strolled our way to the front entry, "Don't draw any attention." He adds. I scan over our appearances and found it hard not to catch peoples gazes. If it wasn't for the lingering stench of sweat and dirty clothing, it was the tangled hair and sway about us.

The counter was crowded with people, all their attentions were on the televisions that were hanging on the walls, boarding cast a football match. Neither Dallas nor I had a clue about sport, I thought back to when we went to the same high school, before I was moved to a private one. We would hide under the stands during physical education, luckily for us we had the class at the same time. The principle would catch us nearly every time and blame Dallas for being two grades ahead of me. Everyone thinks I'm his little naïve follower, even now.

All the customers had eye glued to the screen, only a few people saw us and shot disgraced glances at the unkempt couple walk into the building. I slid into a booth, Dallas hands me a map he stole from someone's table, "What's our next move?" I asked, scanning over the map, "Figure, we'll head to Tulsa." I search for it, then circle the location, "Oklahoma's a barren." I whined. A cheer erupts from the counter, irritating Dallas even more, "Yeah." He pauses at another rumble, "We need money, don't we?"

"Where's this cash coming from?" I asked. "I have a few people out there." He answers vaguely. I remember back a year ago when he spent two months in Tulsa, but never told me why, I always assumed it was Avery, but I guess that ship has sailed. The waitress comes over and fills the coffee cups, she's watching the television too. She takes out a note pad, "What'll it be kids?" not even looking in our direction, "Malt liquor." He said dead serious, I kick him under the table, responding with, "Pancakes." The waitress moves to the next table. I fold the map and set it aside, "Maybe we should sell the coke."

"It's gone." He answers, not even fazed. I furrow my eyebrows in shock, "You used it? When?" I was starting to sound like my own mother at this point. "This morning." He stares aimlessly at me. I lean back and cross my arms, "Well that sure did help your energy levels, didn't it?" I said with a pout of disappointment. He gurgles the coffee to annoy me further, "Let's not fight." He says, shooting a devilish smirk. I stared down at my new ring, it must've cost a lot, "What about the ring?" I worried. He shook his head violently, "Nope. It's special. No selling." he responded. I couldn't stay mad at him for very long, and gave in, "Fine." I blushed, wanting to kiss him again. I missed the taste of his mouth.