Dirty Lying Sirens

Chapter Eleven

Madeline

Waking up to someone messing with my windshield wipers was not how I imagined my day would start.

The snap of it as it fell back in place startled me, and I was wildly disoriented under my quilt with a terrible pain in my neck and something hard poking my leg. And then it hit me that I was in my car.

Because I was homeless.

My stomach fell. What in the world was I supposed to do now? A homeless shelter?

My eyes slid down to my backpack. I could always do some research and find one. I was next to a café with free internet. Would they let me come in and just have water and use the wifi? But I was hungry too. Café food wasn't exactly cheap, but it's not like I could go grocery shopping and make affordable home-cooked meals.

I pushed the quilt aside and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my face and groaning. Where could I brush my teeth? The café? I eyed my backpack. It did have all my clean-up stuff in it, as well as my laptop. I might even change my clothes, and with a quick and dirty sink bath I could chill in the coffee shop and come up with some more plans on how to get out of this mess.

With a new determination, I pulled out my favorite t-shirt for good luck and some other random clothes and shoved them in my backpack. I got out of the car, trying to smooth out my hair and discreetly re-cover all my belongings with the shower curtain before locking the car.

I stood on the sidewalk, looking around. There was no one left at my windshield, and my stomach sank. Windshields mean tickets. I looked around now that I was in the daylight. The parking meters had started back up for the day and I didn't put any money in mine.

That's a problem for later Maddie.

At least the ticket would act as enough of a decoy that I didn't have to put any coins in the meter now. I looked across the street as my stomach growled.

The coffee shop was open, and being mid-morning on a weekday maybe it wouldn't be too crowded. I looked both ways, saw there were no cars coming, and I jogged across the street.

When I entered the shop and the little bell announced my presence, one of the newer baristas welcomed me but was paying more attention to their line of customers at the counter than the ones coming in.

Good. I probably look like hell and I don't need anyone who knows me to ask questions.

I went straight for the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Setting my bag down, I looked in the mirror and grimaced. My makeup from last night was a mess. At least I had face wipes in my bag, and maybe I'd save what makeup I had left for a job interview or something.

I cleaned up, making sure I looked as normal as possible. Not only in the neatness of appearance but also taking into account whatever stress I was wearing on my face. Deep breaths, pack up my bag, and I left the bathroom to head for the counter.

My eyes scanned the pastry case, hitting the prices before looking at the items themselves. Settling on a cheap enough item, I made my way to the front of the line and placed my simple order of a toasted bagel with a cup of water.

Food in hand, I picked an out-of-the-way table and set myself up to be there a while.

Deep breaths. They were becoming a habit.

"First things first, let's look at my resources," I murmured, opening my laptop.

Bank funds... low.

Job prospects... few.

Low-income housing... nothing open near me.

Homeless shelter... apparently the closest one to me is constantly at max capacity and I'd have to hope I could get a spot.