by Sara Alva
I didn’t want to disturb him, so I lay still for as long as I possibly could. My neck ached, though, crushed up like it was against the lumpy backpack. Eventually I had to stretch it out.
He stirred at the slight movement, his face twisting into a grimace.
Ow. He rubbed his back. That hurts.
Taking over for him, I massaged deep into the muscle. “Yeah…and I’m freezing.” I buried the tip of my nose in his neck to make my point.
He winced and pulled away.
“Sorry.” I chuckled, until he slipped his ice-cold hand under my shirt and pinched a nipple. “Ooof! Okay! Okay!”
With a little grin of victory, Seb let me go.
“So…I know we should be saving money, but there’s another thing we gotta buy.”
What’s that?
“A watch with an alarm.” My back cracked as I sat up. “We are not missing out on that dance studio again. I guess I’m not quite built for life on the streets.”
Seb nodded. Good idea.
“We should try and stay there from now on…or, you know, until we figure out something more permanent.”
He sat up, too, giving my arms a few brisk rubs to warm them. Okay.
“You know what? I think we’re getting the hang of this. We’ve got a place to stay, the beach to spend the days at, we’ve got…each other,” I added shyly. “And, uh, ways to…” Seb started dropping little kisses along my cheekbones. “To, uh…pass the time…”
He landed on my lips.
And at that moment, I was pretty sure we had it made.
Chapter 24: Honeymoon's End
“Uh, maybe I made a mistake. Lemme double check…ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…and thirty-five cents.”
Fuck. Where had it all gone?
I stared at the pile of crushed bills and change on the dance studio’s floor, my heart sinking in fear that I carefully kept from my face.
Of course, I knew where it’d gone. To carnival games and rides, funnel cake and hotdogs and ice cream. To flannel blankets and watches and alarm clocks and McDonalds and junk from the 99-cent store.
Seb glanced over, unconcerned, and continued to trace letters in his booklet.
“We’re…we’re gonna have to figure this out.”
He sighed and put the pencil down, then crawled over to embrace me. Damn it, he must’ve heard the worry in my voice.
His arms were golden now, the hair on them so fair it was almost invisible. I brushed my fingers through the soft strands, moving them against the grain. “This’ll only last us a few more days. We blew almost all the money in a coupla weeks. I…I shoulda been more responsible.”
It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming. I’d known. I’d just put off dealing with it for as long as possible—or longer than I should’ve—because I was too busy enjoying myself with him. Too busy being selfish.
He shook his head and ran his knuckles over my cheek. Quit blaming yourself. You’re doing the best you can.
“No, really.” I freed myself from his comfort so I could try to think straight. “I have to take better care of us. We need to come up with a plan, right now, so we know what we’re gonna do from here on out.”
Okay then. He retrieved the booklet and pencil, but kept his attentive eyes on me. So what’s the plan?
“Well…I need to get a job. Like at a fast-food place or something. Except they probably won’t take me, because I’m too young…so I’ll need a fake ID…which I can’t get right now because we don’t have enough money.”
Seb looked puzzled. Okay…
“So, step one is to get more money…and to stop spending it so fast. You know, when I went to Venice with Mimi and that guy of hers, he was able to steal us all kinds of stuff. Kettle corn, cotton candy…even some sunglasses. I’m really not that bad at lifting stuff, and with you as a lookout…”
No. He shook his head firmly.
“But listen, with all those open air shops it’d be easier, and we could get some stuff to resell, or even just nab us some food…”
I said, no. He reached over and grabbed my wrists, locking them together like I was in handcuffs. You could get caught.
Dammit.
“We could be really careful.”
He squeezed down harder, pressing into the bone.
“All right, all right, I get it. No stealing.”
Satisfied, Seb returned to his tracing.
“I could sell flowers on the street.”
I was joking, mostly. Plenty of my people did that…but I’d have to get the flowers from somewhere…and I never really saw kids doing it.
He arched a brow doubtfully.
“Yeah. I know. Out on the street like that…the cops might see me. And they’re probably still looking for us, ya know.”
He grinned. Seemed he liked being a fugitive with me.
I didn’t blame him. Days at the beach and nights lounging on a couch, jerking each other off…I felt like I could live this way forever.
A little alarm went off in my head at the thought—reality trying to edge its way in. I fought it back by moving toward Seb and forcing him into a kiss.
He pretended to be irritated at the interruption, even though he kissed me back. I wished I could have more than just a taste of his lips right then, but the sun was already up, and it was almost time for us to hit the road.
“Okay, really, stop distracting me. I have to think.”
Seb pushed me away, little bursts of air coming from his nose—his version of laughter.
“Well, look, I know you like staying here, but I’m just not sure how long we can pull it off. You’re worried about us getting caught with the stealing…this is illegal, too.”
He rolled his eyes.
Sighing, I pulled off my dirty t-shirt and put on a slightly less dirty one. We were long overdue for a trip to a laundromat—another thing that’d cost money. And now that I’d run through all the other options to earn any, only one way seemed to be left.
“Seb, remember how I told you I used to…uh, deal?”
He glanced up sharply.
“Well, maybe I didn’t say it outright, but I’m sure I mentioned it in one of our conversations.”
And your point is? He eyed me warily.
“So…the only way we stand a chance of getting money fast is doing that. I know some people I can talk to—this guy Diego, maybe. He might know of something I can do. I mean, it’d be small-time at first, but—”
A snapping sound interrupted me, and I looked over to see Seb’s pencil lying in two pieces.
“Broke your pencil?” I gathered up the top half and brought it back to him, but he didn’t take it from my hand. “We’ve got some pens, still…or I bet we could pick one up at a bank or something.”
Strands of Seb’s sun-bleached hair were draped over his forehead, so I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Okay?”
No! He snatched the pencil from my palm and threw it across the room.
Icy fear flooded me, drowning my other concerns and pushing out goose bumps all over my skin. What the hell had just happened?
“Seb, what…what’s wrong?” I crouched in front of him, hands hovering a few inches away because I was suddenly afraid to touch.
“Are y-you mad because of the money thing?” My voice shook.
Having him angry with me apparently reduced me to a trembling ball of nerves. No one else had ever had that effect before.
“’Cause I promise, I’m gonna work it out…”
Was he just calling my bluffs, now that he was no longer playing special?
He shook his head, then closed his hand into a fist and tapped at the vein that bulged in his arm.
“What?”
He glared.
“Drugs? You’re upset that I’m talking about selling drugs?”
From the fire in his eyes, it almost looked like he was ready to take a swing at me. I rocked back on my feet to get away from him, unsure if I should feel relieved t
hat I had gotten to the root of the problem…or worse. Did he look down on me for my past?
“I…I wouldn’t use any, you know. I just wanted to get us some money so we can—”
No! He slammed his hand against a stripper pole. The metal vibrated from the impact. No drugs.
“Okay…I’m sorry…please don’t be mad. I didn’t realize that would bother you. I won’t do it. I’m sorry.”
His fury started to fade, but it wasn’t enough for me. I still felt like I’d been through a blender and my heart had wound up on the outside, sliced through and through.
“Seb, I didn’t mean to—”
He grabbed our backpack and shoved in the notebook, stomping to his feet. It’s time to go.
“Oh. Y-yeah.” I scrambled after him.
I wanted to know why he was so against the whole thing, but I was too afraid of another outburst to press him. Drugs were bad, after all. I knew that. Maybe Seb was just trying to make me a better person.
“Um, you wanna get some breakfast? Some Egg McMuffins? Or we could go down to the beach and get some funnel cake…or we could even go to Starbucks…”
He shook his head, rubbing his thumb against his other fingers. We’re having money problems, remember?
“Oh. Right. I just thought…“
Thought what? That I’d buy his happiness?
Maybe I’d been doing that all along…maybe that’s why I’d decided it was a good idea to spend most of our money on carnival rides and fair food. Because how happy would he be with me when we were forced to dumpster dive or beg for our meals?
Seb stopped walking in front of the Arby’s on the corner. He unzipped the backpack and took out a couple of granola bars.
Here. As he passed one to me, his hand slid along mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
I looked up to see his smile back in its rightful place, and I stared at it for a few seconds, using it as a temporary bandage for my battered heart.
“Thanks. And I am gonna think of something. Something not illegal. I promise.”
I know. He grinned and ripped open his bar to take a bite.
He had more faith in me than I did.
A rustling down the alley drew my attention to a homeless man in tattered sweats who was digging through the garbage. He yanked out a couple crushed bottles and shoved them into his duffle bag.
“Oh…well, there’s that.”
Words from the past echoed in my mind. Pick up cans with the immigrant children.
“I mean, it won’t be big money, but it’s something, right?”
Seb blinked. Huh?
Guess he couldn’t read my thoughts. “Collecting recyclables. A lot of homeless people do it. You can look through trash cans…like at gas stations and convenience stores, especially…then you take the stuff in to get the redemption value.”
He nodded. Oh, okay.
“It would take a little investment, though. We’d need to get some big bags, ’cause there’s not much room in the backpack, and we can’t really carry it all in our hands. Guess we could stop at the grocery store…”
Seb’s grin spread and he yanked at my hand. Let’s do it.
It wasn’t much, but at least we had a plan.
~*~
“Fuck, we are awesome at this!” I jogged over to Seb to show him my latest score. A family of five had stopped to get gas, and they’d turned out to be thirsty people. I hadn’t even needed to dig for it—they’d simply handed over a bag of coke bottles once they saw me rummaging around.
Seb nodded, opening his tote full of cans so I could see he’d also added to the pile.
“Maybe ’cause we’re young and so good-looking.” I smirked. “Hell, if I’d known it was gonna be this easy, I’d have tried this ages ago.”
And how different my life might’ve been…but I didn’t dwell on that thought for long.
Is this enough? Seb shook his bag, testing the weight as he looked at me questioningly.
“Nah. I mean, it’s a good start, but I think we need to get a whole lot. We should keep working till we have a few bags full and then see about finding a redemption place.”
Seb turned and glanced back up Lincoln Boulevard. We’d already gone three or four miles from our home base, and he was probably worried about getting so far away that we were late making it back.
“Well, new stuff is thrown away all the time, so we could backtrack…or we could just stick around here and wait for people to drive up…or we could go check out some of the apartment building dumpsters.”
Seb’s eyes twinkled, and I knew which one he was ready for. The adventure.
We headed down an alley and stopped in front of a building with a low brick wall enclosing its parking lot. Seb made a foothold with his hands and I climbed over first, then crouched at the top to pull him up.
The green dumpster sat in the shadows, beneath the first story of apartments.
“Well, I guess let’s have at it.”
We jumped down and approached it slowly. Crap, was that scurrying sounds coming from inside? I started to reconsider our decision—this wasn’t going to be very glamorous.
Seb propped open the cover, and a rancid sweet-and-rot scent confronted us.
“Yuck. We are so gonna need a shower after this.”
He was already up to his elbows in garbage bags before I realized that would be an issue. We didn’t exactly have access to any showering facilities.
“Or I guess we could just wash off in the ocean or something…but damn we need some swimsuits…or at least some more pants.”
Fuck. Why did everything have to involve money?
Got some! Seb lifted out two large empty bottles of Gatorade and pumped his arms victoriously.
“Yeah, good work.” I shoved them into my bag of plastics.
Well don’t just stand there. Seb waved me toward the piles of garbage. Start looking.
I put aside my concerns for cleanliness and dug in. Ripping open bag after bag, I sifted through the mess of banana peels and coffee grinds and soggy paper towels for those few precious cans and bottles. But when I got to a bag full of dirty diapers, I had to take a break.
“Oh, Jesus.” I stumbled back and knocked my legs against the hood of a car. “That is fucking disgusting.”
The car proceeded to come to life, wailing and honking and blinking its lights like a demon possessed.
“Fuck.” I grumbled, turning to face the annoyance. “Shut the fuck up you stupid alarm.”
Seb kept digging for a few seconds, but then abruptly froze.
“Hey! You! What you do there?” An old man with wild white hair came barreling down the steps from the apartments, shaking his fist. “I call police!”
“Shit!” I bolted over to Seb and grabbed a handful of his t-shirt. “Let’s get outta here!”
We both turned and clumsily jogged away from the enraged man, our full bags banging at our sides.
“Why you come to mess our garbage?” He pursued us, spittle forming on the edge of his lips as he yelled. “I am apartment manager! I call police!”
“We’re leaving, you crazy old freak!” I frantically tied off our bags of loot and tossed them over the brick wall.
I didn’t want to go first and leave Seb cornered by this guy. He was obviously a nut, chasing after us like this when we were a quarter of his age and easily could’ve beaten him to a pulp if we’d tried.
I gave Seb a foothold and he scrambled up to the top of the wall, then reached down for me.
Fuck, he really was taller than me. I stood on my toes but still couldn’t get a good grip on his fingers. He had to bend down further, straddling the wall and leaning over toward me so I could finally grasp his hand.
The man was still yelling, but he’d slipped into some other language. Russian, maybe. He’d also taken out a cell phone, and I didn’t really doubt that he was calling for the cops.
“Pull!” I screamed at Seb, and he did. Pulled too hard, though, because instead of regaining our b
alance at the top, we toppled straight over the other side and landed in a bed of plastic bottles and crushed cans.
“Ow.” I coughed and rolled over. Seb was lying on his back a few inches away and I quickly crawled to him, holding myself up over his body. “Shit, are you okay? Does anything feel broken?”
He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and he reeked like the garbage we’d been knee-deep in just a few moments ago.
Squinting up at me, his lips stretched into a lopsided grin. That was sorta fun.
I smacked his chest and then kissed him, holding my breath so I didn’t have to inhale our scent.
When the need for air finally forced us apart, I stood and dusted myself off. “Come on. Let’s get our stuff and go…those cops might be on their way.”
~*~
We held off on the bathing we so desperately needed in order to take our findings to the nearest recycling center. Thankfully it was back in the direction we’d come from, but it still took us over an hour and a half to walk out to the facility. Sweaty and surrounded in clouds of our own toxic fumes, we trudged in through the open gates.
“Damn, I’m exhausted,” I muttered. This really didn’t measure up to riding on the Ferris wheel all day long, or sharing foot-long hot dogs with our toes stuck in the sand.
Seb didn’t reply, but I knew he was thinking the same thing.
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting to find—maybe some sort of clean, white building where I could see bottles and cans carried away on a conveyer belt and stomped flat by a big machine. It was probably that word facility that did it…guess I needed to find a dictionary to look up its real meaning.
The money-making part of the recycling center was outdoors, on a floor of dirt and asphalt. A tin roof covered the scales, and the payout shack had a wooden storefront that had been spray-painted a hideous green.
And just like us, the place smelled awful.
Homeless, hippies and the poor huddled around blue bins, unloading bags and shopping carts full of recyclables. Most of the people were of the black and brown variety, but I was surprised to see a few white and Asian faces mixed into the crowd.
