Chapter 1

It all started when I was given after-school detention by my lovely

teacher Mr. Dandifer, though, we call him Mr. Dandy. Though, he’s anything but. And lucky me, it was pouring. Does my mother give me a ride? No. Instead, I get a voicemail stating she is too busy

in the office and will have to stay the night. On the bright side, I’ll have the house to myself.
Running across the main streets of New York city, I could only see the head lights of cars and taxies. My hearing became more acute to the sound of beeping and rain drumming against the side walk.
I looked up and saw the figure of a person under one of thoughs mini roof things people usually have above their front door. I have lived here all my life and not yet figured out the name of that damn thing. Maybe that person is willing to share until the rain dies down.
I walk up next to him and asked if he minded. Thankfully he didn’t. It was getting darker by the second. People with umbrellas passed us. Damn them. Damn them all to hell.
“Do you have the time?” A husky voice came from the guy whom I shared a small shelter with.
“Uh, yes. It’s turning on seven.” I said.
“Thanks.” I looked up to him. It was kind of hard to see him ‘cause of how dark it had gotten. I squinted a few times and finally made out electrifying blue eyes and damp light brown hair. This boy was no more than a year older than me. He wore a camouflage back-pack on his back that looked like it was filled with his whole house and a grey hoodie with baggy ripped jeans. And for his feet, all he wore was socks. Something wasn’t right.
“You should really put shoes on, sir.” I said to him. “You’ll get sick.”
“I forgot to grab them when I was forced out.” He looked at me like he hadn’t yet. In fact, I don’t think he did. He looked me up and down and frowned like he wasn’t impressed. I was at school, not a fashion show.
“What do you mean?” I was trying to be kind and using proper manners, but he seemed to not care about manners. Or anything.
“I don’t have shoes.” He said blankly. He had a very chalice personality.
“Why don’t you go home and get them before you get sick?” I put a hand on my hip. I didn’t want him to feel like I was bossy, but I didn’t want the poor guy getting sick either.
“I would if I had one.” Oh. So he’s homeless. Well that explains A LOT.
I looked back to his eyes. He had turned away from me. His eyes were so sad, along with his face. He’s so young…
“What’s your name?” I asked him. His eyes flicked to mine.
“You’re still here?” That jerk.
“Wh-” I bit my tongue. “Just… Tell me your name.”
“I don’t have a name.”
“Everyone has a name.”
“Human boy.” Now he’s trying to be smart with me.
“Listen, human boy

, I added, trying to make a funny. He didn’t laugh. Not even a smile. No expression at all.
“Can you just leave me alone? So what if I get sick? Who am I to you to worry about.” He said everything so calmly when a normal person would add something spiteful.
“How old are you?”
“If I answer, will you go away?” He asked, turning away from me again, looking into the street like he was thinking about staying put or running in front of a speeding car.
“No promises.” With a sigh, and turned fully to me, looking down on me with pale blue eyes.
“Just turned seventeen.” I pressed my lips together. I’m not going to leave a homeless, SHOELESS, seventeen year old to die in the streets of New York city.
“Come. I’ll get you shoes at my house.” I said with a smile. He rose an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m so generous. Besides, my mother wont be home tonight and my father is no longer with us. So no one would protest. Just- C’mon.” I took his hand and I swear, the rain died down as soon as my skin touched his.
I pulled him in the direction of my house, pushing through the crowd of people that walked along the city’s sidewalk. He had no objections. He went along with me. I doubt I’ve earned such a chalice boy’s trust already. In fact, I know for a fact I didn’t. His curiosity of me lead him to the point where he just gave up and let loose.
We got to my house and he stopped right before the first step. I turned and looked at him curiously.
“You’re house is a mansion.” He stated. I winced at the word ‘mansion’.
“Yeah… but I like to call it a house.” I said.
“Oh.” He nodded apologetically. “Let’s go in. I’m cold.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Well, he was the one who stopped in the first place to state the obvious.
I finally let go of his cold hand and welcomed him into the house. I kicked off my shoes and I allowed him to take off his backpack and hoodie.
“Why don’t you go take a hot shower, and I’ll look for my father’s old shoes. What size are you?” He blinked at my mothering, but ignored how annoying it was.
“11.” He said. He was so thin, but built. He was actually really good looking, but he diffidently needed a shower.
I lead him to the shower in my bathroom. Yes, I have my own bathroom. My mother and her boyfriend are filthy rich. I showed him the stuff to use and left him along to do his thing.
Meanwhile, I gathered up his wet, dirty clothes and threw them in the wash. He wasn’t out yet when I was finished, so I made a Easy Mac which took less than three minutes.
Watching the bowl spin in the microwave, I heard a husky voice say, “Hey.” I jumped and turned to the boy with a towel wrapped around his waist. I blushed.
“I don’t know if I should feel violated or not that I had no clothes to change into after you made me shower.” He smirked. I was blushing so hard, I had no idea what to say. I could see his SIX PACK. What kind of homeless teenager has a six pack?
“I-I-I forgot. I’m sorry.” I looked down as I walked passed him and back up the stairs. “Come on.” He fallowed.
“My mom has some of Dad’s clothes in his office. You can wear them until your other clothes are dry and clean.”

Imprint

Text: The book and the story belongs to me. The photos were found on Bing.
Publication Date: 10-20-2011

All Rights Reserved