I stepped out of the office with my social worker leading the way. I shouldered my backpack, inside a few books, my laptop, and two changes of clothes. There was also a ski mask and a set of black clothes, but those weren’t relevant to what was happening. Today was the day that I get another foster parent, the third one in the past five years.
“I don’t understand why you insist on living in Lyndontown every time you apply for a new home, James,” Tiffany snorted. “I thought you of all people would wanna kiss the streets goodbye and say hello to the country,”
“This place is my home, no way around it,” I hugged her. “Thank you, for all that you’ve done for me. Hopefully this is the last time that we need to do this,”
She nodded and led me through the door into a waiting room. In one of the chairs was a man, twenty five years old with dark brown hair that was mostly swept back and to the side. He was a few inches taller than me, but didn’t have the stature of someone who was physically fit. His hands were darker than his natural skin tone and calloused. He extended one out to me and smiled, a warm grin.
“You must be James, I’m Benjamin,” He nodded to Tiffany.
“James, do you need anything?” She said to me.
“Nope, I got all I need in my bag here,”
Ben’s heartbeat crawled a little faster than it did seconds before. He was slightly worried about something but it wasn’t too important, his heart wasn’t racing just yet.
“Alright, let’s go,” Ben said. “Thanks again, Tiff,”
He waved goodbye and then led me outside to the city streets. I took a second to breathe it all in and look around. Lyndontown. The city had been my home since I could remember. I wasn’t born there, but my biological family had moved there when I was two. The place was filled with skyscrapers of million dollar companies, apartment buildings, world class hotels, and suburbs just outside of it all. A single high school where I spent my weekdays was located in the suburbs, where I had the luck to live one time in my adventures in foster care. I wondered where in the city I would be staying this time, or if Tiffany had lied to me and got me a parent out of town against my wishes. I wouldn’t blame her, most wouldn’t listen to a fifteen year old about their living preferences anyways.
Ben led me to his very new and very taken care of Chevy Cruze at one of the parking meters. He pressed a key FOB and the door clicked. I opened the rear passenger door and threw my Dickies bag into the seat, then clambered into the front seat. Ben started the car and started to drive down the road.
“So, I am told you are a Lyndontown native, know the city inside and out,” He said, trying to make small talk.
“I wouldn’t say native, but I grew up here,” I answered. “Where we headed, Dad,” I said the last word sarcastically and it really seemed to throw him off for a second.
“Oh, you don’t have to call me that. Not until I’ve deserved it at least,” He laughed.
“Great. Last family I had made me call them that. Too embarrassed to let people know they took a child that wasn’t theirs in,”
Benjamin flinched at the word family.
“We’re headed to my apartment, it’s not the best place but it is home for me,” He said. We passed by a coffee shop I used to live near, it was packed with people like it usually was. Jerry’s Home Brew Coffee.
“Have you ever had coffee there?” I asked, pointing at the line almost out the door. “Stuff is to die for,”
“I have never, don’t do much coffee here. I got ADHD and it messes with my nerves,” He tapped his fingers on the wheel. “You have that too right? ADHD, not nerves,”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I got both,” I joked. We drove a mile longer and parked on the side of the road. The street was relatively flat, but Ben still pulled the parking brake at the center console up.
“Trying to keep good habits?” I asked.
“Nope, some punk stole my car by cutting the regular brakes put in by putting it in park. It’s a lot harder to cut an E brake,”
I waited for him to laugh but he never did. He continued out of the car and reached into the back for my bag. I beat him to it and waved him off with a smile and he raised his hands in surrender. We walked up some stairs into the building and approached a small elevator where a bellhop stood inside.
“Hey, Rigby, How’s it going?” Ben said, holding five fingers up. The man pressed a button in the elevator and we walked inside. The elevator had the same grungy wallpaper as the walls in the lobby, except inside it ran halfway up the walls. The other half was some cheap plastic that was supposed to look like metal. It smelled like mold, and the roof was probably the culprit, the tiles were brown and slightly sagging.
“This one seems a bit younger than the usual, Ben,” Rigby commented, looking me up and down.
“You give me too much credit, you are the ladies man here after all,” Ben laughed. “This is James, my new foster kid,”
“New, how many you got tied up there, B?” He laughed and shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, man. Nice grip,”
He shook his hand like I had hurt him with my grip. I felt awkward in the situation, but smiled through it like I usually do. It was only on occasion that I would shut down in social situations. We made it to the fifth floor and walked down the hall. The wallpaper had changed, but it was still old and faded. Ben opened his door, 5C, and we entered. The mood entirely changed. The walls were a single color, grey, unlike the hallways. The place was small, and I was surprised it existed in this building. On the right was the living room, which was a love seat, a fifty inch television and an end table. The left was a kitchen with a small amount of counter space, a stainless steel fridge, and a black stove and oven. Two doors showed to the left of the kitchen, out of view. I could smell the wood in the doors. I clicked my tongue and acted as if I was inspecting the room.
From my clicking, I found out that his room consisted of a bed with silk sheets and a fluffy comforter that made it difficult to bounce sound off of. There were two nightstands, a smaller television on a dresser in front of the bed. In the second room was a desk with a small laptop on it, and a monitor.
“So I haven’t had the time to get a bed just yet, but I found one on the internet that we can go pick up tomorrow,” He said. “But, that means one of us has to sleep on the couch tonight. Now we could flip a coin or-”
“I’ll sleep on it,” I said. “Wouldn’t bother me at all,”
“Are you sure? Sounds like a crappy first night here,”
I nodded. It would work for the night, and I couldn’t really feel pain so if it was uncomfortable I could just think it comfortable. He reached into a closet at the end of the room and pulled out a throw pillow and a blanket.
“Thanks,” I nodded. I started to dig through my backpack for something to do, then Ben tossed the pillow and blanket at me. I turned my head swiftly and out of instinct caught the pillow, which probably would have looked cool, if I wasn’t covered by the blanket two seconds later. I stopped moving, acting annoyed.
“Sorry kid,” Ben laughed. He took the blanket off and I gave a sarcastic smile and continued to dig through the bag.
“You mind if I go out?” I asked.
“Not at all, where are you headed?”
“I don’t know, just bored. Probably stop by Jerry’s for some joe,”
“And I assume you will be safe?”
“Oh, of course not,” I joked.
He nodded and I shouldered my bag. I reached for my back pocket, making sure my wallet was there. I should’ve had twenty dollars at the time. I left the place, announcing my exit and shutting the door behind me.
I walked down the street towards the coffee shop. A few people walked down the street, but this side of town was mostly barren. There was an abundance of apartment buildings on each side of the street, tall staircases leading to their doors. Small light poles were evenly spread out, zig zagging the road. A small amount of February snow fell from the clouds and landed onto the concrete. The flakes landed and then melted onto the warm sidewalk. I peered at a certain one falling, seeing the patterns move almost finitely. Footsteps echoed from an alley to my front. I walked forward slightly faster, listening closely. Two, no, three people. Their hearts beat fast. One held a cold bladed knife, leather handle by the smell of it. One nodded back to the other three and jumped out at me. Muggers.
I dodged and tripped him, making his face meet the concrete. I came back from the other two, but sadly the direction I moved was deeper into the alley, which was a dead end. Go figure.
“Little far from home?” One teased, brandishing his knife. He had a face like a rat, and was probably in his twenties. That was hard to tell by his height though, which was an unimpressive 5’6”. The other wore a mask, but his breathing was deep. Possibly an eighteen year old. The one that fell to the ground holding his face in pain was recovering.
“Nope, I’m right where I need to be,” I said, confident. I could beat a few muggers, right?
They pushed me further into the dark, which was really just fueling my confidence. Each forty-five degrees from the street and closing in. I gave them every chance to walk away and leave the situation, not provoking them. The masked one pulled a quick move and stole my wallet from my back left pocket. Strike one. And all I needed was one.
I caught his wrist and twisted it until I could hear a small crack in his bones. I punched his elbow, causing his arm to break and bend the wrong way. His muscles twinged from his funny bone and a large snap, like breaking celery, sounded.
The one on the right swung at me but I ducked and his fist met the face of his accomplice. I kicked his left leg out from under him, and he face-planted as well. The one that I had tripped ran at me, but I dodged to the left and grabbed him by the collar. I forced him forward and threw him onto an old metal trash can. I walked towards him, slowly. He groaned, slowly getting the air back in his lungs. I smiled at him, and gripped one hand on his ankle.
“Tell the ambulance that you have a fracture in your fibula,” I grinned wider and dropped an elbow on his leg. Another snap sounded and he cried out in pain. The armed one came at me again from behind, but I landed a punch behind my shoulder directly into his nose. The cartilage bent the wrong direction, and he fell on his back onto the cold concrete. I turned him on his side so he didn’t drown in his own nose blood.
“Have fun recovering,” I called behind me as I left the alley. I passed a young boy playing with a bouncy ball before starting back down the sidewalk. The boy stared in awe at the three broken criminals on the ground.
I waited in line at Jerry’s Home Brew Coffee. I probably shouldn’t drink coffee, makes weird noises in my stomach, but the place was a second home next to. Well, Nowhere, so I guess a first home. Not to mention they had the best barista, in my opinion. She walked to a table and served a few cappuccinos.
Lyla Hark. The most beautiful girl I know. She was blonde, each lock had just the right amount of curls on top of her perfectly shaped head. Her eyes were a grey blue, exactly like mine, and they were more warm and welcoming than cold. She walked carefully and gracefully with a tray in one hand. She wore a brown shirt, white apron that was stained with coffee, and jeans. Her Converse squeaked as she made her way back behind the counter, fixing a few more drinks.
I waited patiently in line until it became my turn to order. I smiled at Lyla as I made my way to the counter.
“James! Cindy, would you mind making a few drinks, I got this one,” She smiled at her coworker at the register. They took off reluctantly, leaving a frog in the back of my throat.
“Hey, just a cappuccino for me,” I said, trying insanely hard not to stutter. “With extra sugar,”
“Too much sugar will kill you,” She joked as she typed it into the machine. I peered awkwardly at the straws. Do it you wuss, just ask her.
I cleared my throat. “Would you want to get coffee,” I muttered.
“Sorry?” She raised her eyebrows. I got the idea she heard every word, and understood.
“Would you want to get coffee, some time, like with me,” I stammered at the last one. She smiled. “Un-unless you don’t want to, that’d be per-”
“Sure,” She said, smiling even more. I grinned and tried to maintain eye contact but my eyes kept looking at other places. For some reason I found the Trebuchet text on the menu above more interesting than her gorgeous eyes.
I handed her my twenty and made my way to my seat after getting my change. I pulled out a pair of earbuds and untangled them with angst. Unless you don’t want to, what was I thinking? I untangled them, then pulled my bag to my lap. I reached inside and fumbled for a small police radio, one with an audio jack. I plugged in my earbuds and listened to constant reports through it. Nothing interesting happened for the few seconds I tuned in.
Lyla brought over my drink, holding only the cup with one hand and pushing a napkin at the bottom of it with the other. She smiled, making me smile, making my heart race.
“Extra sugar,” She said. “Are you getting anything else today?”
“No, can’t stick around. Wish I could though,” I said, simultaneously listening to her and a report for public indecency.
“What are you listening to? You seem to always have those earbuds in,”
“Oh just some Gorillaz,” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic. She smiled and moved on back to behind the counter.
“Dispatch this is officer Mendez, requesting immediate assistance. We got a 10-32, shooter at the western plaza hotel,”
I looked at my coffee and sighed, then back at the backpack. Here we go again. I chugged at least two thirds of the coffee down, ignoring the scorching heat of it across my taste buds. I threw the rest away and made my way to the door, putting the earbuds back in my bag and then moving into a nearby alley way. I changed into my black clothes behind a dumpster, pants, combat boots, and a hoodie. I pulled a wool ski mask over my face and flipped the hood over my head. I climbed onto a nearby fire escape and started up the stairs. Time for some fun.
