Page 2 of Pit Stop

One

14 years old

Tillman

I’m chilled to the bone as I finally decide to open my eyes. It’s overcast again which is just great because the last thing I need is more damn rain. The weather doesn’t usually get too bad in Los Angeles. Most of the time it’s completely bearable to be outside. I mean, yeah it gets hot, but I manage. The rain is so damn miserable. I’m soaked, cold, and just over it. This is no way to start off my school day.

As I stand up, I stretch my stiff muscles. I couldn’t sleep in my normal spot, thanks to the rain making the dirt into mud. The concrete of the alleyway is no freaking way to sleep comfortably. It’s just an impossible task. Not to mention all the strange ass people who walk down it at night. My stomach rumbles, and for a moment I almost think it’s thunder already rolling in. Just great, the last thing I need. I’m not sure what time it is but I’m pretty sure it’s about time to head over to meet Axell and catch the bus to school. I pull my baseball cap down lower, sling my backpack over my shoulders and head towards his house.

Axell James is my best friend, well, really, he’s my only friend. He’s the only person I can depend on, but I try to keep most of my problems to myself because he comes from a big family, and they struggle enough as is. Plus, his mom hasn’t been feeling too well lately. The last thing he needs to have on his mind is my current foster family and how messed up they are; or the fact I’m sleeping within the tree line at the park most nights to avoid an unnecessary beating.

My stomach continues to rumble, and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the blood. I hate this shit. Finally, Axell’s house comes into view. The single story with white siding and two steps leading up to the red door with the large window in the living room. I notice the living room blinds aren’t open so maybe it’s not as late as it seems. The first thing his mom does every morning is open the blinds because the big tree in the front yard shades most of the house. I take a seat against the house on the porch to avoid any more rain in case it starts back up. With my backpack beside me and my head resting over on it, my eyes fall shut.

The next thing I know I’m being woken up by Axell, nudging my shoulder. “Hey man, are you okay?” Axell is the tallest of the brothers at 6’5” with pale skin like his mother’s and almost black hair that’s currently cut short and sticking in every direction. Axell is probably most known for his unique eyes. He has some eye disease that I can’t pronounce, but one eye is solid blue and the other is half blue, half brown.

I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Yeah, I just got here a little early today and didn’t want to go back to the house, so I had a seat. I guess I fell asleep though.”

Axell smiles down at me. “I’d say. Anyways, my dad told me to wake you up. Apparently, he saw you when he came out to grab the paper. My mom wants you to come inside for breakfast.” At the mention of breakfast, I catch a whiff of bacon, sausage, eggs, and hash browns. My stomach roars once more, reminding me I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch yesterday, but I shake my head. His parents have enough mouths to feed. They don’t need mine added to the mixture. “You know she won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m good, really.” I wave off the offer, but Axell grabs my elbow and yanks me up. He’s got a good fifty pounds on me. We might be the same height, but I’m nothing but bone and skin, a walking corpse if you will, sadly I feel like it most days too. Maybe, if I had a decent eating schedule I might be as large or larger than Axell.

“Shut up and get inside.” Axell grabs my backpack. He gives me a funny look. “Why is your backpack wet?”

I shrug trying to play it off. “I don’t know. One of the other kids probably spilled something on it. You know how it is.” Only, he doesn’t have any idea what it’s like. I sugar-coat the best I can.

Axell studies me but he doesn’t say anything else as we head inside. By the time we get to the table there is already a plate set for me. The tiny kitchen is outdated with the white linoleum floor that features tiny yellow and blue flowers. The yellow backsplash and baby blue cabinets complete the entire kitchen area. A dining table that has definitely seen better days sits off to the side, barely fitting inside the kitchen. The James brothers and their dad sit around the table. “There you are,” Annie James, Axell’s mom tells me as she comes up and combs my messy hair out of the way and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have a seat and eat. Apple juice, right?” she asks.

Annie James is beautiful and so caring. Every time I’m around her it only makes me miss my mom more. “Yes, Ma’am, but I’m good. I don’t need any food this morning.”

“Nonsense. Have a seat son,” Axell’s dad tells me, pulling the paper down so I can see his serious look. No one messes with Ronald James.

I nod my head. “Yes, sir.” My baseball cap rests on my knee and I try to take my time eating, but I end up inhaling the food. Annie reappears and drops another helping of food on my plate. “That was plenty.”

“You might as well eat it, otherwise it’ll get thrown in the fridge before getting thrown out.” I don’t believe that any food in this house gets thrown out, but I won’t argue with her. She’s going to insist I eat this anyways, and who knows when I’ll get to eat again except for lunch today. The weekends are always uncertain. After we finish breakfast, I collect my plate and start to wash the dishes. Annie steps forward and takes the plate from my hand. “Why don’t you go and take a hot shower? You can borrow an outfit from Axell, and Ronald can give you a haircut. Your hair is getting awfully long.”

“I took a shower this morning.” It’s not a total lie. I got rained on all damn night.

She smiles. “I know Sweetie, but with that many other foster kids in a house, how often do you get hot water?”

I can’t even recall the last time I got to take a shower and use actual soap or shampoo. Most days I try to sneak into the bathroom at school and wash down using the hand soap. Occasionally, I’ll get to use the showers in gym class, but it depends on what activity we did that day. “That’s true.”

She nudges my shoulder. “Go on.” I stand under the stream of hot water. It astonishes me how different it can feel to stand in a shower versus getting soaked in a rainstorm. As a kid I used to love getting soaked in the rain, but now it’s just a hassle I don’t want to deal with. After scrubbing every inch of my body with soap, I wash my matted, dirty hair. Nothing in the world has ever felt so good. When I open the bathroom door a small pile of clean clothes is lying on the floor. I grab them and slip them on.

“You look as handsome as ever,” Annie tells me. I blush and look away. She shoves a brown paper bag into my hand. Homemade lunch for today which will turn into a meal for me over the weekend at some point. She’s like an angel. I start to protest though about the lunch when she holds up her hand. “You’re wasting your breath, Sweetie. Take the lunch and have a good day at school.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.” I head out the door with the rest of the James boys. Axell, Bowie, and I lead Jagger and Ace to the bus stop. Ace’s bus shows up first then Jagger’s. Once we’ve made sure they made it onto their buses, ours shows up. We’re all in high school so we all get to ride the same bus thankfully.

Bowie instantly joins his friends Roscoe and Laney, or Lane as she likes to be called, while Axell and I take a seat towards the back of the bus. I can feel him studying me. “So, how bad was it last night?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I already know the answer to the question. This is something we do daily, but I’ll play dumb until I can’t.

Axell sighs, frustration evident. “Tillman, why do we do this every day?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. Why do you ask the same question every day?”

“How bad was it last night?”

Beyond the bus window is the town of dreams. So many people come to Los Angeles in pursuit of their dreams. Every single person on the street has a story. Mine isn’t special; if anything it’s just sad and depressing. I don’t have a dream, not anymore. “It wasn’t bad at all. I’m telling you that you worry too much.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

Laughter bubbles out of me. It’s not forced but I’m not sure why I found that funny either. “You worry too much, Axell.”

“About you? Always.” His reply is simple, but it sums up the basis of our friendship. He’ll forever worry about me and the state of my life. I’ll forever downplay how bad things really are.

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