The Arrangement

If We Never Met

JJ

They spent the day trolling around construction sites on Figure 8.  They climbed around the scaffolding and checked out the insane new gadgets these new Kooks were adding to their McMansion.  He still had no idea what towel warmers were, how they worked, or why anyone needed them.  Downing their beers and lounging around like Pogues was the perfect way to kick off their summer.  Even getting chased by the cops couldn't dampen JJ's mood.

As they rolled along back to The Cut, JJ took in the state of his friends. Kiara played the Ukulele from the floor of the Twinkie, while Pope invented lyrics to whatever song she was strumming, and he expertly rolled another joint.  He could hear John B laughing, in the driver's seat, at Pope trying to freestyle and failing miserably.  For the first time in his life, he realized that he had something to be thankful for.  As quickly as that thought hit him, his mind played a memory he'd buried deep underneath the mountain of other baggage he lived with daily. 

***

The summer after middle school was a particularly shitty one for JJ.  His father, who'd miraculously been sober for the majority of 8th grade, had fallen off the wagon in early May.  By the time June rolled around, Luke was back in the throes of addiction.  At first, Luke left him alone.  JJ supposed it was because there was still shit around the house his father could sell to get enough cash to pay the electric bill or keep the water on, but eventually, things got ugly.  First, it was little things.  Luke started to make snide comments about JJ being a freeloader, started trying to antagonize the boy into acting out.  When it didn't work, his father just started whaling on him.  For weeks, JJ hobbled around pretending he was too stoned, or tired to surf with his friends.  

But eventually, he took off, deciding he wasn't going to wait around for Luke to finally kill him.  He slept at the Chateau for a week before Big John started asking questions.  Not wanting to draw too much attention to his father's condition, JJ left the same night Big John asked him about his Dad.  He considered hunkering down in the twinkie for a couple of days but realized that Big John would likely see or hear him sneaking in and out of the rusted old thing.  He sighed and pulled out his phone to text Kie. 

JJ: Shit got bad with my dad again. can I crash a few nights?

Her reply was almost instantaneous. 

Kiara: Yes, of course. R u ok? Where r u? 

JJ: 2miles north of John B's. I'm hoofing it. 

Kiara: see u in an hour

Relieved to have found shelter, JJ picked up the pace a bit.  About a mile out from Kie's house he started jogging, by the time he arrived on her block he was practically sprinting.  He skidded to a halt in her driveway and crept around the side of the house till he arrived at Kiara's window. Tapping gently, he found her curled up on her bean bag chair reading a book. 

As soon as she noticed him, she hopped up quickly to let her in.  JJ watched her, he couldn't quite place it, but something was different. In all the chaos with his Dad, he realized it had been a while since he'd seen her, at least two weeks, which in pouge time was an eternity. 

"I missed you" he blurted as soon as her window swung open

Kiara looked shocked, and JJ wished the ground would swallow him whole.  They stood there, frozen for a moment, his statement hanging between them.  Then, one of Kiara's neighbors drove past the house, casting the light along where they'd been standing mere moments before as JJ had lept into the bushes, and Kiara had jerked her torso back into her room. When the car passed, JJ rushed out of the bushes quickly and gestured for her to move. 

"Out of the way, hurry!" He whispered 

Kiara scrambled out of his path just in time to watch the lean blonde boy launch himself through her window, tuck and rolling onto her carpet like an armadillo. 

"Are you ok?" She asked

JJ nodded, sitting up and groaning as one of his bruised ribs twinged. 

"Has he been hitting you again?"  She pressed 

He looked up at her and froze.  Her question would have made her uncomfortable, he would have tried to doge it if he hadn't been completely fucking bewildered in that moment.  He would never in a million years tell a single soul, but Kiara Carerra had just taken his breath away.  Her hair was hanging loose and wild around her as she stood in front of him, hands on her hips in an old, ratty t-shirt of his that she'd cut the sleeves off of and made a tank top.  Her pajama bottoms were the tiniest pair of shorts he'd ever seen, and her skin was a toasted brown color that made him certain she smelled warm and sweet. 

He wasn't an idiot, he'd been around the block at least six or seven different times by then, but he'd never gotten sort of choked up checking a girl out before. Hell, he'd never gotten choked up checking out Kie before.  But in her dimly lit bedroom, in her hobo pajamas, Kiara looked like an angel to him, and for the first time in his 14 years, he had a reason to feel grateful.