On The Run

Chapter Nine - "One Good Deed. Plus One"

I looked up at Trey and Ricky, the sun making a halo around their heads,. “Thanks, guys,” I said grateful.

“Is it a stray?” Ricky asked.

“Don’t know. I doubt it,” I replied.

What I would have liked the most for myself was to be left alone to fend for myself, unnoticed and undisturbed. In my opinion, it was the best gift you could give a stray; I mean, they were that way for a reason. Which was why, two minutes later, I’d left the dog on a slightly secluded path, lined with dumpsters for it to rummage through, somehow. Hoping that it’d go and find its owner.

The sun was beginning to set; I’d spent my entire day doing nothing, basically. Daisey’s diner had been serving as my hideaway spot as I’d read up on criminology over the past week. Daisey seemed to take pity on me, and sometimes, she gave me a free meal or two. As many scumbags as there might have been in Brooklyn – or the world, in general – the kindhearted ones almost made up for their inconsiderate souls.

“Are you coming back with us?” Trey asked, as we walked back down the street, leading to the apartment.

“You should really get cleaned up,” Ricky added, looking down at my outfit. I was wearing my sweatshirt over the top, but it didn’t hide the dark red stain.

“Yeah . . . I’ve just got to do something first,” I replied. I didn’t really have much to do, but I’d left my stuff at Daisey’s diner, and somehow, if I didn’t feel the comfort of my criminal law book – a sliver of hope for the future – then, lying in bed would be even more of a chore for me.

“Okay. Well, are we seeing you for dinner?” Trey asked, with a hopeful smile. Or maybe, I was just projecting; I couldn’t really tell anymore.

“Um, maybe,” I lied. Daisey had offered me a pile of pancakes to help her clean up at the end of the day. It wasn’t exactly a job, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t giving anything in return. I could have told them that, but I hadn’t really learned the art of sharing quite yet.

“Cool,” Ricky said with a smile.

“Thanks again,” I said, and turned down the intersection, walking down the street. Daisey’s diner was only a few blocks from the auto shop, but I’d quickly learned the different routes to take. The longest route was the only one that involved no alleys whatsoever, so that was fine by me.

Daisey was the only one present as I walked in, and she beamed at me from behind a booth, as she put the tips in her pocket.

“Hi Chloe,” she called, “Your stuff’s behind the counter.”

“Thanks. I just have to use the bathroom first,” I said, hurrying towards the back, before she could make a big deal out of my bloody mess.

I swung through the ladies room door, and immediately pulled off my sweatshirt. The pain in my arms was so intense, that I barely registered it anymore. I pushed up the sleeves of my long-sleeved t-shirt, and ran my arms under the water, feeling the pain intensify. I bit my lip as I pulled a tiny shard of glass out of one of the cuts, wondering just how it had managed to go through my shirt.

“Are you okay?” I heard a voice say, and I spun around, pulling my sleeves back down.

Kayla was standing at the entrance to the ladies, holding onto a bag of toilet paper rolls. She still had a strong disdain for me, I presumed, seeing as I’d barely seen her in the past seven days. I’d made an effort to stay out of her way, especially.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

She gave me a bored look, and said, “There’s blood on your shirt.”