“Okay.” Ronnie couldn’t relate to him. She always thought some parents were better than no parents, or better than having parents that didn’t want you. Often, she rolled her eyes at her friend’s complaints about their parents. They didn't know how good they had it. If they heard “I love you” daily they were in a better situation than hers.

“We have one stop to make before we take that hour trip to Chris’s new spot. Don’t be mad but I have to pick up.”

Ronnie shook her head. “I can’t get caught, Star.”

“I won’t get caught.” Star was the kind of guy who had it all but would say he has nothing. He had the long deep brown locks the fell around his head and stopped right above his eyebrows. He got his name, Star, from a birthmark on his neck. The top point stopped halfway to his cheek, the right and left point stopped at the front and back of his neck, and the stars bottom hid under his shirt.

Star and Ronnie had been friends since Ronnie first showed up. He heard about her through street-talk and made it his business to friend her before the worst of the riff-raff did. Star didn’t need to do the stuff he was doing; sell drugs, skip school, hang with the ‘don’t’ crowd. Anything he needed he could have asked his old man for it. Ronnie suspected he was crying out for attention.

Star pulled into a long driveway. “If you’re not in and out in five minutes, Star. I’m out.” Ronnie unbuckled her seatbelt, checking out the large three-story brick house.

“You know that new band, Bleeding Pores, they record here. Same spot I have to pick up is the same spot I’m dropping off. You won’t have to be around it.”

“What are you selling?”

“Dust.”

“Alright, fifteen minutes.”

“Come in, meet the band.”

“No, that’s okay. Let me see your phone.”

Star passed her his phone before he got out of the car.

Ronnie signed into her email. Twenty messages were waiting for her in her inbox. She scanned the names looking for Alex, Judith, or Armani. There were three from Armani, checking when Ronnie would be showing up.

Ronnie: I am on my way now with Star. He had to make a drop.

Armani: Gosh. . . Star’s coming. I should have done my hair and laid off that extra smoke. Tell him I’m here. I’ll see you in a bit. See if he has some blow. Stan and Seth are here, they want to get high.

Ronnie: Ok, Alex made it?

Armani: Lex got snagged. She got caught on her way home last night. PO shipped her straight to detention hall. I don’t know for how long, but she’s out. Judy walked in about five minutes ago. And your friend Leland, I believe is his name. He’s here. I don’t know who invited him or how he found out about this spot. But he is here and is seriously floating. Ultra high. See you soon!

Ronnie irritably threw her head back into the headrest. Leland always found his way around whatever she was in. She couldn’t complain because he’d rat her out. She couldn’t believe Alex had gotten snagged again. She’d just gotten off of probation.

Ronnie remembered Alex throwing back a wafer before she left her house last night. She knew Alex had tweaked and got busted.

Star’s phone buzzed. The text message displayed on his screen.

Paris: Answer the phone, I’m about to call you, Ronnie. It’s Star.

Right after, the phone rang. “What’s taking so long, Star?”

“I’m held up. Come in. It’s not bad in here. No way you can get busted, promise. The people in here are real cool.”

“If they’re riding, Star, and I’m caught around it I’m out.”

“Everything has been taken. No dust residue anywhere. They’re mellow, used to it. They aren’t floating.”

Ronnie hung up. She thought long and hard about going in. Ronnie wasn’t trying to make any drastic life changes, but she was trying to do things smarter. Stay away from events that would get her booked. She juggled her options. Something pulled her into the house. Telling her, if she was caught under a ramp with a bunch of blowed teenagers, narcotics scattered about and some of them probably too high to run, she would definitely get busted. But sitting inside of these rich people’s house. . .she doubted someone was waiting to bust her.

Softly, nervous, and anxious Ronnie knocked on the large, brown front door.

The door pulled open, and an exact replica of a rock star stared at her. Spiked out jet black hair, looped piercing through the right side of his nose, snake bites piercing circled through his bottom lip and some type of tattoos covered his arms.

“You’re Ronnie?” he asked coolly, leaning against the opened door.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” Ronnie replied.

“No.”

“Then I guess I’m Ronnie.” Ronnie tried to walk forward, but the rock star look-alike threw his leg up in front of her, blocking her way. “Is there a secret code that gets me in the house?” She asked.

“Yes,”

“Supercalafajalistickexpialadojus.”

“What?” he questioned with a smirk.

“That’s the password. The enter code. The secret name. The answer to the question that gets you to move your skinny jean compressed leg and boot from the doorway.”

“Say that again. . .”

“No. Move.”

The rock star look-alike smiled. “Hi, Ronnie. I’m Cynical.”

“I believe you. You look like the type.”

He laughed, heavy and husky. His skinny body should have had a soft snicker, but instead, as if he weighed 210 pounds, it was deep and chuckling. “That’s my name,” he told her in his laugh.

“Oh okay, I get it. I thought you were describing yourself.”

Cynical laughed again. Ronnie wanted to join but she wouldn’t give another boy the privilege of putting a smile on her face.

“Come in, Ronnie. No hard feelings.”

“No.”

She stepped in, walking past him. “Where’s Star?”

“Down this hall to the left. I’ll walk with you.” Cynical closed the door behind him. “Would you like something to drink? Something to eat maybe?”

“Hopefully we won’t be staying that long.”

Star came jogging down the hallway. “I am so sorry, Ronnie. Just a few more minutes. I felt wrong about leaving you sitting in the car. Thanks for opening the door for her.” Star bumped fists with Cynical. “This is Bronze, he’s the lead singer of the band,” Star introduced.

Ronnie peaked over her shoulder. “I thought you said―”

“My band name is Bronze. The name I told you is my real name. Don’t share that with anyone. Let it be our first secret.”

“Our first?”

Cynical beamed his rock star smirk that probably made the girls fall all over him with his strong blue eyes, piercings, and tight jaw. His rock star appearance had to have all the girls swooning over him. But Ronnie hid her blush and turned back to Star. “Here are your keys and your phone.”

“Looks like you have an email.” He handed his phone back.

“Sorry. I forgot to log out.”

“You don’t have your own phone?” Cynical asked Ronnie.

She read over the message from Armani telling her not to come because they got raided. Ronnie felt grateful Star held her up.

“Looks like they’ve got busted.” She told Star, giving him his phone after signing out of her email. “Message said they fled, everybody got out safe.” She turned to Cynical, pulling up her sleeves. “No.” she flashed her black bracelets. “I can’t have my own phone.”

“Nice jewelry. How much that cost you?” He reached for her wrist but Ronnie smoothly moved out of his grasp.

“A couple runaways, a few robberies, some drug distribution, and no parents,” Ronnie told him.

Cynical scrapped his hand over his chin. “I’m sorry to hear that. . . Um, all of that.” Stealing a glance at his phone, he says, “Will you all be staying a little longer, Star?”

“You don’t have plans until a couple hours after school right, Ronnie?”

“If you want to stay. It’s fine. I’ll post up somewhere and drink a soda or something.”

“I appreciate it, Ronnie. I just need to wrap up this talk with Paris and we can go.”

“We don’t have anywhere to go now. Take your time.”

Star quickly hugged Ronnie and ran off back down the hallway.

Chapter 2

Ronnie turned to Cynical. She stared at him for a minute, for some reason he’d stopped looking at her since he opened the door. She could tell her confession threw off his suave demeanor. “So, Bronze. Care to give me that drink now?”

“Sure,” he quickly replied. “The kitchen’s this way.”

“Is this your house?” Ronnie asked, following him to the kitchen, checking out his name brand clothes and better than average build to his body. With his tight fitting shirt, she made out the muscular cuts in his back, and his skin pulled tight over the muscles of his arms. They swung at his sides as he walked.

“No, it’s my parents’ house.”

“Do you live here?”

“Yes.”

Then it’s your house. “Okay. . . I’ve heard a lot about your band.” Ronnie tried to spark small talk.

“Not my band. I just sing in it. None of it was my idea, and I don’t write the songs. I just look the best out of all of them and happen to have the better voice.”

“You are very modest and cynical.” Ronnie leaned against the counter near the fridge.

Cynical looked Ronnie’s way as he opened the left side of the refrigerator’s door. “I’m honest.”

Ronnie looked around the kitchen, glancing over its marble counter tops, lack of a kitchen table in its large space, the many cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. “So. . .why Bronze?” Ronnie grabbed the can of soda he handed to her.

“Not my idea either. I’m just going with it.”

“So the people in the band that you happen to be in are just using you and you are okay with it.”

“Yep.” He answered quickly.

“Why?”

“It keeps me busy. Besides being around a bunch of men who like to do drugs. It keeps me out of trouble.” He waved his hand for Ronnie to follow.

Ronnie trailed behind him to a living room. Cynical pressed a button on a remote and a TV rose out of the floor.

Ronnie tried to not seem surprised but she’d never seen a TV in a floor. Not intact anyway.

“How old are you?” Ronnie asked.

“Eighteen.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

“Not eighteen.”

“That’s not an age. . .”

“Oh.”

“Neither is that. But I won’t push it. I see your age is a sensitive topic for you.” He smirked.

Ronnie sat on the other end of the couch. “I don’t know exactly how old I am. I’m either sixteen or seventeen. That’s what the dentist said last time I went. I was either fifteen or sixteen. So since six months to a year has passed I’ve added up.”

“What about your birthday?”

“What about it?”

“You should have one.”

“I’m sure I do.”

“Then when is it?”

“I’ve decided that I wanted my birthday to be on March twenty-third. After spring starts.”

He shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arm in front of his chest. “Uh, you don’t know for sure.”

“Don’t you want to talk about something else?”

Cynical tossed Ronnie the remote. “Find something you’d like to watch. They should have their talk wrapped up soon. I’ll be back to check on you in thirty if they don’t. Would you like a computer or something?”

“Can I see your computer?” Ronnie asked scrolling through the channels. She didn’t mind being left alone. It was how she liked it.

Cynical left and came back with an ultra-thin laptop. “Here you go.”

Ronnie lifted it open. “Whoa, this is one cool laptop.”

“It’s a Mac. You can have it if you want it.”

Wow. “That’s nice of you, but I can’t take it. Not even if I wanted to. My PO and foster mother would flip. Well, I guess I shouldn’t call her my foster mother anymore.” Ronnie mused over Cassie—her permanent guardian.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“No. Did you know your laptop―?”

“It’s a Mac,” Cynical corrected again.

“Your. . .Mac isn’t password protected.”

“So what. Where are your parents?”

Ronnie needed to put an end to these personal questions. Talking about her past and her life made her uncomfortable,and she didn’t like answering them. “Bronze, you’re a nice guy and it’s cool you’re letting me sit here while I wait on Star. But I don’t want to talk. Especially not about me. I noticed you got uncomfortable when I told you about my inconvenience. Just let it go so we can keep you and me comfortable. ”

“Ugh!” Cynical exclaimed in irritation. “I hate girls like you.” Ronnie jumped back when he whipped to her. “Yeah, I know I’m a nice person. Take some pointers. Your one of those mopie girls, aren’t you? I can tell. Some messed up stuff has happened to you and you make the rest of the world pay for it. Sorry if I’m coming off as a total tool right now. But your restrictions to smiling, ‘I can’t talk about me’ and the ‘the talk about my life will make you uncomfortable’ jizz is a real ball buster.” He stood. “Get over yourself, Ronnie. When you think you’ve had some messed up things happen, remember someone has always had it worse.”

Ronnie tossed his lightweight laptop to the side and stood. “Just because you don’t know my story doesn’t mean I don’t have a right to feel the way I do about my life. Doesn’t mean I need to share my story with you. Just because I don’t want to tell you my business doesn’t mean you need to have a stick up your butt. Like, how rude are you? So what If I was beating myself up, you’re just going to make it worse. Rain on my pity parade.”

“No, but you can at least try smiling, play happy, if you don’t want people to feel uncomfortable. How else are people supposed to get to know each other if they don’t talk, if they don’t ask questions.”

Ronnie felt insulted. “How would you feel if I asked you personal questions?”

“I wouldn’t give you the ‘you’re a nice person but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable’ spill.”

“Oh my gosh. Don’t you have a song to sing or something?” Ronnie said with aggression, throwing her hands on her hips.

“Oh.” Cynical rolled his annoying pretty blue eyes, and ugly spiked head of hair. “Yeah, you’re right.” He left, shoulders swaying as he strolled from his living room.

Ronnie stormed from the house.

She felt small, angry, and insulted. If someone had explained to her that something made them uncomfortable, she could understand if they did not want to discuss it. It made sense to her.

Some things are not easy to share or make conversation about. She saw the way he looked at her bracelets. Oh poor girl, on house arrest. Breaking the rules to get a hit. She knew how people judged her. She didn’t need to be judged. She needed to be left alone. Let her secrets be her own.

Fast footsteps came behind her as she walked through this neighborhood she knew nothing about.

“Hey Ronnie. I’m sorry. I was out of line back there. Let me make it up to you by driving you where you need to go. Star is going to be a while longer.”

Ronnie kept walking.

“Come on, Ronnie. Please.” Cynical stayed behind her, steps hastening as she sped walked to get away from him.

“No, I don’t understand people like you. I don’t want your help.”

“I’m not going to help you. I don’t want to help. I don’t want to give you pity or anything like that. I just want to offer you a ride to where it is you’re trying to go. It will take you at least thirty minutes, walking, to get out of here. Then maybe another forty to make it to the nearest bus stop.”

Ronnie kept walking.

“You can be private, but you don’t have to be stubborn.”

Ronnie stopped abruptly, annoyed by Cynical’s insult. “That’s not helping,” she said, with an angry thrust of her finger to his face.

“Let me try again. I need a different approach.”

“What?” Ronnie questioned, confused.

Cynical quickly turned his back to her then he slowly turned back and extended his hand. “Hey. I’m Bronze. Lead singer of Bleeding Pores.” His voice turned honeyed, and smooth, matching this new visage.

Ronnie looked between Cynical and his hand, wondering why the change in his introduction. Curious, she played it out. “Hi, Bronze. I’m Ronnie.”

“That’s a cool name. You’re headed out. Can I offer you a ride? My place is about six houses down from here.”

Ronnie looked around at the oversized houses and a couple men out riding their lawn mowers in their front yards to cut the grass. “Sure.” Ronnie shrugged, looking back to Bronze. “I’ll wait here.”

“Cool, I’ll go get my car and be right back,” he said smoothly, nothing like he was before; lighthearted. . .honest. Now, he’s the ‘wrong guy’, the ‘can’t trust him guy’, the ‘I’ll tell you what you want to hear’ guy.

“You know what, Bronze,” Ronnie awkwardly said his name. “That’s okay. I need the hour and a half walk. It will be relaxing.”

Cynical scrunched his nose and looked around outside and then at Ronnie. He studied her face, taking on a number of different expressions as he looked her over. Ronnie only wished she knew the thoughts going through his mind as his brows pulled together and his lips pursed. Based on his expressions he could have been thinking any number of things. She’d never know.

“Okay Ronnie. Would you mind if I walked with you?”

Ronnie crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the sidewalk. Eyeing Cynical as his studying expression softened into a sympathetic one. “You aren’t going to let me go alone are you?” She joked and gave him a small smile.

“I will.” Cynical responded, also smiling. “I just wanted to see you smile. It complements you. You should try it more often. Catch you later, Ronnie.”

Chapter 3

Ronnie had no idea where she was in this new neighborhood. She walked along the same sidewalk but following it along brought her back to the same spot. She walked for thirty minutes in a circle.

She stood on the sidewalk in front of the oversized brick house with the large brown front doors. And she had a feeling Cynical or Bronze―whatever name he chose to go by―was watching her from the glass window beside them.

Clutching the ends of her sleeves in her hands she built up the courage to walk back to the house.

The door pulled open before she could knock. “Got lost?” Bronze, she knew he was still going for his ‘Bronze’ personality because of the face he’d taken on. It was suave and cocky confident. Cynical was modest, though his look was certain he was innocent. Bronze was everything but.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at bu―”

“I’m not playing at anything. Star is looking for you, I told him you’d headed back. He didn’t believe me. He went out looking for you about ten minutes ago. If you’d like, I can call him for you. Tell him you’re back so he can come back and get you.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, kind sir, please spare me a phone to call my friend so that I’m not stranded in this. . . lovelyneighborhood you have here.” Ronnie mocked a sweet southern accent, playing along with Cynical’s game.

He smiled brightly. “If you had finished that with a smile, I would have fallen for it. Your accent almost sounded tooreal.”

Ronnie smiled.

“Score,” he whispered.

Ronnie covered her smile with her sleeve-covered hand.

“Don’t.” He lightly touched her wrist, grazing her bracelet. He gently pulled her arm away. “It’s fine, just like this.”

Her smile faded. “Seriously, I have somewhere to be. Can I call Star?”

“Of course.” He handed her his phone.

She grabbed ahold of it. It was warm like he’d been holding on to it for a while. “Your phone isn’t password protected either,” she mentioned.

He leaned against the door frame with his forearm, glaring down at Ronnie through his lashes. “What am I protecting it from?”

“Thieves, unwanted peepers, friends, family, people you don’t want to see what’s in your phone.” She dialed Star’s number.

Cynical looked behind him. “It’s not that serious.” He turned back.

“Hello,” Star answered.

“Star, I’m back at this oversized house. Where are you?”

“God Ronnie, why you walk off? I’m out searching for you. I’m on my way back.”

Ronnie hung up and handed Cynical his phone back. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come in or are you a wait-on-the-porch kind of girl.” Bronze questioned, eyeing her from a bowed head.

Ronnie slowly reached her hand to his chin and lifted his head. “I don’t like Bronze. It is, at times. . .a rusty color. But Cynical, though, pessimistic, also was admirable.”

“Bronze makes you smile,” he counters. “Cynical made you leave.”

“Bronze is on purpose. I like people who are themselves.”

Bronze looked past Ronnie. He threw a point toward the driveway. “Your friend’s here.”

“Why’d you leave?” Star asked when Ronnie dropped into the car.

Ronnie pulled on her seatbelt. “Bronze upset me. You know me. I don’t stay around when I’m uncomfortable.”

“He try to do something to you?” Star asked, becoming angry, hand flying to the car’s door handle.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Ronnie reassured.

“Oh, okay. Where do you want to go? Got some place you wanted me to take you?”

“Nope, not really. My afternoon was supposed to be spent at the skate park. But I’m glad you got held up. It would have been just my luck I got busted. What are you about to do?”

“I thought chilling here for a couple hours would have worked until school let out but since you and the homeownercouldn’t get along. . .that’s a bust. You can’t go to the mall or the plaza. I guess we can go to my house, hang out there for a couple hours, then I’ll take you home.”

“Okay.”

Ronnie laid in Star’s bed watching television. He left her there while he did another pick up Ronnie refused to be around. She couldn’t help thinking about Cynical Bronze. She first and last named him because he mastered both personalities.

A knocked sounded from the front door.

Star’s room was on the first floor of his house, not far from the front door. He had an average-sized house suitable for him and his mother, but enough room for another. Star informed Ronnie if someone came to the door to answer. He had a pick up and he practically begged her to hand over the textbooks.

It was three textbooks that had the centers cut out of them and held a few packs of ecstasy in their missing pages. Because there was no way she could get caught, she agreed.

Ronnie grabbed the three textbooks from Star’s dresser near his bedroom door.

The person at the door knocked again.

“Just a minute,” Ronnie called.

“Okay,” a male’s voice called back.

Ronnie carried the books with her to the door. Juggling them, the lock and the knob of the front door, she finally pulled it open. “Sorry. These books are a little heavy.” She looked up and froze. The books fell from her shaking hands and slammed down on her feet. She cringed from the pain but never took her eyes from the visitor.

He bent down picking up the books, stuffing their content into their cut out centers. “I’m sorry.” Ronnie squatted down and helped gather the books from the ground. She held one, passing it to him. “Those eyes. . .” she gaped deep into his innocent grey eyes.

The boy smiled, with dimples set deep in his cheeks, and the circled lip ring on the left side of his bottom lip―that matched Ronnie’s―moved slightly. “I know,” he said. “It’s because they look innocent.” He shrugged. “They brighten my face but mislead people about my personality.” He took the book from her. “Thanks.” His eyes lifted to the sky then back to Ronnie.

A soft buzz began as little voices started humming through Ronnie’s head. They all spoke too quickly, too soft, too many of them. All whispering, saying words that were too jumbled for her to make out. Only low whispers from soft little voices crowded her mind.

Ronnie looked around herself, checking behind her, looking for. . .she had no idea what she was looking for. Whatever was making that annoying sound, those annoying whispering voices. . .she wanted to put a stop to it. She shook her head gently, blurting out, “Huh?” Trying to make out what they were saying.

Losing her sanity, she played it cool, trying to ignore the psycho whispers echoing through her ears. She looked past the young man, outside and recognized the black truck. It was similar to the black truck that almost hit her yesterday, and she remembering experiencing these same whispers.

The whispers scrambled her thoughts and rambled annoyingly until they made the word “Name. ”

Forcing Ronnie to say, “I’m Ronnie.”

She swallowed hard as the voices quieted, instantly going silent. She breathed deep, relieved she was released from whatever that was.

“Hi, Ronnie. I’m Hale. I’m a friend of Star’s. You’re his girlfriend?”

Ronnie quickly shook her head, slowly getting lost in his eyes, forgetting about the near psychotic episode she just had. “No. No. We’re just friends. He had to go someplace and knew he wouldn’t be here when you dropped by. So, because I didn’t want to tag along, he asked me to hand those,” Ronnie pointed to the books, “over to you.”

Hale smiled. “Are you anyone’s girlfriend?”

“No.” Ronnie tried her best to hold back her blush. His smile brightened her day. Though with more color in his skin, not pale like Arson’s. And a little better dressed. His eyes, the way he smiled, his deep dimples, and the way he asked that. He reminded her of him. Of course, she knew it wasn’t. . .but something about him.

Their eyes locked and the whispers began again. Ronnie knew she was losing it. Total psycho occurrence and she just had to choose to lose it in front of Hale. She poked her fingers against the tunnel of her ears and wiggled them in hopes to remove the humming whispers. The loud drumming of her movement drowned out the whisper. She winced at the hard sound of her finger shaking her ear.

Hale’s mouth moved. She removed her finger and the whispers were gone. “Okay. Well, thanks for being around to hand over the package.” He grinned again.

Ronnie stared for a moment replying. “No problem. I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely.”

Ronnie closed the door, bombarded by the whispers again. She rose on her tiptoes to watch Hale through the window. The further he got away from her, the quieter the whispers became. It was the weirdest thing.

Hale walked to the passenger side of an all-black truck. He looked back and Ronnie ducked not wanting to be caught watching him.

When she thought she was in the clear, she looked again. He was in the truck and waved at her before the truck pulled away. She waved back and he looked away after passing the house.

“God. . .” Ronnie dropped from her tiptoes. “Oh my God. . .” She slapped her hand against her forehead. “What the crap, ears?” She threw her palms to her ears and pumped. There wasn’t any whispering going on, but she thought at any moment those tiny, barely audible voices would return.

The door pushed opened, whacking Ronnie in her face. “OWE!” she cried.

“Crap!” Star walked in. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. Why are you standing behind the door?”

Ronnie rubbed her nose. “I practically just closed it.”

“Oh, did he come?”

“Yes.”

“How much did he give you?”

Ronnie’s head fell. She’d seriously dropped the ball. “Let’s go get in the car, Star.”

“Why?”

“He had these eyes, I dropped the books, forgot all about the transaction.” Then these voices. . .I completely blew it.

“Really Ronnie! That was two thousand dollars’ worth of X.” Star yanked his phone from his pocket.

“I am so sorry, Star.” Ronnie told him as Star brought the phone to his ear. “I hope he answers.” She rubbed over her arms, ashamed of her fault.

“He’s supposed to be cool. He better answer.” Star looked around him as he peacefully stated, “Ay, Hale. You just left my house, didn’t drop off the green.” Star nodded to Ronnie. Ronnie let out a relieved breath. “No, come back right now. I’m here. Sorry about that.” He hung up. “He apologized, said he was distracted by the pretty girl I had answer the door.”

Ronnie blushed. “It was only that he kind of looked familiar. Not him, but his features.”

Star shrugged as he shook his head. “I guess you both were distracted. They’re on their way back.”

The black truck drove back up in front of Star’s house. Ronnie’s hope thrilled as she watched Hale get out of the passenger side and walk their direction.

“Oh God. . .” Ronnie whispered, gaining a look from Star.

Their eyes locked and Ronnie’s breath caught as the whispers started. She couldn’t make out anything they were saying. . .again.

Ronnie fled, running from the door back to Star’s room escaping the oncoming whispers that somehow got louder as Hale drew closer.

Danger, keep back, don’t come any closer, you don’t want to go there, and don’t do it flashed through Ronnie’s sight while she stared at him. She had to get away before he could get any closer to her to talk to her or make her smile again.

It was all too real, his stare, those eyes, his smile. She didn’t know what to make of it. But with everything telling her she needed to talk to him more, make plans with him, find a way to stay in contact with him, and those voices just about forcing her to. . .

She took that and chose the opposite.

“Ronnie,” Star called.

“No, Star,” she called back.

The front door closed and Star walked into his room. “Here,” he threw three one hundred dollar bills on the bed. “I shouldn’t pay you because you were totally not a seller today.” He joked.

She didn’t want to take his money. Though he was joking, he was right. “It’s fine, Star. You don’t have to.”

“No, take it. I appreciate you being willing to do it. Plus. He’s coming back. New customers are always beneficial.” He sat on the side of his bed, opposite of the door. “You ready to go?” he asked, pulling a shoebox from beneath his bed, placing it on his lap. He put all the money he made today in it.

“Why do you sell, Star? Your parents are loaded.”

“My dad’s loaded.” He left some cash out and stuffed the box back under the bed. “I’ll show you why I do it.” He waved a stack of one hundred dollar bills at her. “Watch this.” Grabbing an envelope from his dresser He scribbled on it. He stood and headed for the door. “Come on.”

They left his house, getting in his car. Before he left, he pulled to his mailbox and put the envelope in it.

“I wrote my mom’s name and address on the envelope, no return address, in writing she doesn’t recognize. I’m going to park down the street so she can’t see us. Just watch, she’ll be pulling up soon.”

They staked out four houses down from Star’s house.

“There.” Star pointed to an old car that needed a serious paint job and squeaked when breaking.

Ronnie watched Star’s mom peel herself out of her car and sluggishly walk to the mailbox. She looked so tired and old with her grey-streaked hair pulled tight into a ponytail and her scrubs dirty from her work. She rummaged through the letters until she reached Star’s bulky envelope. She opened it and wailed. Lifting her hands in the air, she cried happily. They could hear her saying ‘thank you’ with a smile the worst news couldn’t wipe away.

“She’s not your mom, and you can’t feel it. But watching her like this, knowing I helped out even though she doesn’t know it. Secretly making her happy. . . It’s the best feeling,” he said lighthearted, filled with an emotion of love Ronnie would never know or understand.

“Just being here, knowing what you did. Watching her this happy feels amazing,” Ronnie said. “That’s really cool of you, Star.”

Star shook his head. “I don’t have to sell, or be around it. But I do because it’s quick cash. It brings in a lot of moneyand I can help out my mom. My dad won’t help her so somebody has to. She works her ass off, taking in all the overtime she can just to bring in a couple bucks. I can give her three to four days off with some of that loot. Watching her rest, taking a load off after she’s struggled to feed and raise me. . .”

“I get it.”

They waited for his mom to go into the house before they left.

“Why do you?”

Ronnie breathed deeply. “I’m trying to stop, but I got into it because I used to run the streets. I needed money. I couldn’t get a job, I was too young. It was fast money, easy money. And once you’re used to it, once it’s your way of living. . .it’s kind of hard to get out.”

Chapter 4

Leland met Ronnie at the corner of the street.

“Where is your car?” Ronnie asked him as he glided to her. He walked like he was on the moon or something. “Leland.”

“Ronnie,” Star called. “He’s floating. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” Star nodded and drove away. “Leland.” Ronnie patted his face.

They walked to Cassie’s house, Leland moon walking beside her on cloud nine.

Ronnie’s bracelet beeped upon entry.

“Ronda, is that you?” Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“Yes,” Leland sung. “It is me, Ronnie.” He said high-pitched,

Cassie cackled. “Leland, is Ronda with you?”

“Yes,” Ronnie responded for him, pushing him toward the basement.

Leland wasn’t much help, he hit every picture they walked past turning it crooked. He tried tickling Ronnie and playing with her hair.

“Leland is going to help me with my homework, Cassie. We’ll be up for dinner when it’s ready.”

“Okay, Ronda.”

“Leland, you need to sober the heck up.” Leland flicked her lips. “Stop it.” She smacked his hand. “Leland, please sober up. Without you, I cannot get out tonight, and I really need to get out tonight.”

“Oh Leland, I need you for something. Please, Leland, help me with something.” Leland sung mockingly, flailing his arms in the air.

Ronnie wanted to slap him as she forced his arms down to his side.

Her computer dinged with an email. She left Leland to check it. He fell back on her bed singing the tunes of a Bleeding Pores song. It reminded Ronnie of Bronze. And he reminded her of Hale.

What a day. . .

“Leland, would you shut up,” she said, sitting at her desk.

Judith: Are you still coming out tonight? Sorry about Lex, Armani told me she told you. What time are you coming? Let me know, I’ll be by at ten.

Ronnie: I still plan to if Leland ever sobers up.

Judith: Hope he does. Let me know before 8.

Ronnie slid from the computer to Leland. He had passed out. She took the opportunity to pinch his arm. He didn’t respond so she slapped him across his face. She was so angry at him. “Why would you get this high in the middle of the day? You are the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met.” Ronnie looked him over wondering which drug he took. It couldn’t have been an all-nighter because he was knocked out cold. With his actions and the sudden knockout, Leland probably popped the two wafers Ronnie passed him last night. There was no other explanation for him to be this high and dead to the world. And he was taking up most of her bed.

She laid across the bed nearest her pillows, looking around her room. It was larger than any of the other rooms she’d been in. Cassie told her they built it just for her. Added the plaster and ceiling to make it look finished. It was painted a soft pink and Ronnie kind of liked it that color. A far wall that held a short squared bookcase was covered in large and small purple circles. Cassie suggested using that wall to post pictures of her and the friends she didn’t have and posters of the boy bands she didn’t like, or artwork she didn’t keep. But Ronnie did sketch. She loved to sketch places from her dreams, people from her past, what she thought the mountains of Colorado looked like from the top of a tree in a sunset. Colorado, her dream spot, where she wished she was shipped to.

So on that purple and pink wall was a few of her sketches she was comfortable with other people seeing. And in a box of one of the bookshelves that sat against it were her notebooks full of sketches she preferred to keep private.

The floor wasn’t carpeted but was painted  white, and she had an oversized area rug under her bed. The area of the basement that had the stairs only had half of a full wall. It cut off some feet from in front of her bed and behind that wall was the storage area.

Truthfully, Ronnie was thankful she had a permanent room. There was a closet full of clothes, two dressers also filled with clothes and she could wear whatever outfit she selected.

She didn’t have to eat alphabet soup every night, which she was grateful for. She also had a nice warm bed to sleep in. Most comfortable bed she’d ever laid her body on.

It was all perfect, but didn’t have that welcomed feeling. That feeling when you walk in and it felt like home. It’d been a long time since she felt it but it was what she longed for. To once again feel like she belonged, to feel like she was wanted, to feel like. . .someone cared for her.

It was selfish of her to think that someone would care about her, to want for someone to care about her. But hey, she was human. What human didn’t want to feel like that?

“Ronda, Leland,” Cassie called, pulling Ronnie from her nap. “Leland, Ronda.”

“Yes,” Ronnie answered, sitting up on the bed.

“Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, Cassie.”

Ronnie looked over at Leland, sleeping like a baby in the fetal position, with his hand between his legs.

“Leland.” She shook him.

He turned over.

“Leland.” She shook him again.

He grumbled, “What?”

Thank God. “Get up. Your mom said dinner will be ready soon and you need to be up there to eat.”

Leland sluggishly sat up on the bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned wide. “Crap. . .” he grumbled. “I’m pretty sure, I took something that took me off earth and carried me to a faraway land.”

“I agree.” Ronnie pushed him. “Why would you get that high in the middle of the day? And what did you take?”

Leland shrugged and looked over his shoulder at her, big eyes matching Cassie’s. “All you care about is getting out tonight. I’m good now. Don’t sweat it, I got you. I popped a couple of those wafers from last night and hit a hookah with Taylor.” He rose from the bed and headed for the stairs. “By the way,” he turned to her with a smile touching each ear, “I’m going to the concert at the coffee shop tonight too.”

“Argh.” Ronnie threw herself back on her bed. “Why?” she grumbled.

Leland cackled. “At least you get to go.”

“Thank you for joining us for dinner, Ronda.”

Ronnie smiled at Cassie.

Cassie did try, so there was no reason Ronnie needed to treat her like crap. “Thanks for cooking.”

Cassie smiled. “Leland tells me you two will be attending the poetry slam at the coffee shop this evening. I know your probation officer said no events and only school and home. But teenagers can get a little restless, and I’ve decided you should be able to enjoy a poetry slam. No trouble can happen at one of those.”

Ronnie was in shock.

“You all will need to be in at a decent hour, Leland. And Ronda, I will have to turn on your tracker.” That meant Ronnie will have to throw on yet another bracelet.

“I’m okay with that. But can I trade one for the other.” Ronnie shook her arms forcing her sleeves down. “I already have two, can you take off one and replace it with the tracker.”

Cassie thought for a second as she tapped her fork on the green and yellow saucer that cradled her salad. “Okay.” She rose and walked to the office which sat off the kitchen. She came back with the white house arrest bracelet that had a blue light instead of a red one. “I can trade them out for you.”

“Thank you,” Ronnie said with a smile. She wasn’t happy about the bracelet, but at least Cassie understood.

To get the bracelet to unlock from Ronnie’s wrist, Cassie had to enter a code on a box that registered the bracelet. Before Ronnie could rub her wrist and feel the relief of the black bracelet not being clamped around her left arm, Cassie was slapping on the white one.

Chapter 5

“You think you could have worn your basic jeans and a tee shirt. It’s not a real poetry slam, as you’ve made your mother believe. So the cardigan at a rock concert would be over doing it. Oh, and let me now mention your penny loafers. . .again.”

“Why are you always bagging on me, Ronnie? What has my style and clothing choice ever done to you?”

“Existed,” Ronnie stated, fastening her seatbelt.

“Oooh.” Leland turned the ignition to start his car. “Did you tell your friend not to come pick you up?”

“Yes.”

“Is your friend Armani going to be there?”

“Maybe.”

“Cool. I like her.”

“Don’t test your luck. You’re not her type. She prefers biker boots, ripped jeans and looser fitting shirts. Oh yeah, and hair without a part.” Ronnie laughed to herself.

Leland turned up the radio and blew Ronnie off.

Supposedly, the Bleeding Pores was one of the bands playing tonight. She was interested in seeing Bronze perform and how he’d act around others.

Ronnie and Leland made it to the coffee shop, and Ronnie hopped out of the car, racing for the door before Leland had the car turned off. She wanted to get as far away from him and his embarrassing blue sweater with small white stars as she could.

The coffee shop was large. It had a stage in its back, the counter was huge but sat near the front door. And tables were scattered around the middle of the floor. Along the walls of the shop were couches. Funny enough, they did have poetry slams periodically, just tonight wasn’t the night.

“Hey, Ronnie!”

Ronnie ran over to the dark-skinned girl with braids and a leather jacket, waving her petite arm at her. “Hi Armani, you just getting here?” She slid next to her on the couch.

“Yeah, I came with Kris. She’s in the bathroom. I can’t wait for the bands to start playing. Everyone is supposed to be here tonight.”

“I heard. I don’t care who plays or what they play. I’m just happy to get out, and I didn’t have to sneak.”

“Oh, you’re out with permission. That’s awesome!” The band junkies came in to set up the equipment on the stage. “I want to meet Bronze from the Bleeding Pores and Charles from Mind Funkd.”

Ronnie nodded. As she prepared to comment, she spotted Star and Hale crossing the room.

Instantly her breath left her body, catching the intensity of Hale’s grey eyes capturing her like pictures every time he blinked.

Armani babbled in her ear about Star coming over and Ronnie just stared.

Hale smiled two feet away from her, then extended his hand.

Slowly Ronnie took it.

“Funny seeing you here,” he said.

Ronnie blushed. He brought out something in her that she thought died years ago.

Hale bent over and brought Ronnie’s hand to his lips. He kissed it softly, lips barely grazing her skin. Her hand still in his, he discreetly ran his thumb over the area he’d kissed before letting her go.

Ronnie quickly pulled her arm back and wrapped it around herself, suppressing the sudden chill that shook her skin. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Can we sit with you all?” Star asked Armani.

Armani stood and hugged him saying, “Of course,” without even running it past Ronnie first.

What if I don’t want to sit with them? She glanced at Hale taking the seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ronnie responded. She was so unsure of him. This feeling he gave off was indescribable but strange and right and wrong.

“I can always leave. Honestly, the only reason I’m here is because Star told me you would be here. Don’t think of me as a stalker or anything. Because I’m not. I um. . . it’s just that. . . I don’t know. Well. . . um. . . I know. You know. . . I um. . .”He fumbled over his words.

Ronnie grinned watching his head fall, hiding his blush. Him being bashful was cute. She found it attractive, a guy stuttering over his words all because of her.

“No, I get it. . .I think.” She didn’t, but she didn’t want him to become so uncomfortable that he’d leave.

He threw his head back. “Ugh, I cannot believe I literally followed you here.” He muttered low to himself.

“Umm, you sure you’re not a stalker,” Ronnie joked.

Hale smirked. His head fell forward as it shook slowly. “Yes, I am sure I am not a stalker,” he replied. “I’m apparently out of my mind and may be totally freaking you out. I’m sorry.” He rose and left.

“Hey Ronnie, Star.” Kris greeted. Blocking Ronnie’s view from the direction Hale had walked.

Go, go, GO. . . whispered the voices from earlier in mixture with other words she couldn’t make out. Go...

Ronnie thought she should go after him, let him know he wasn’t out of line.

Go, Go. . . The miniature voices continued to encourage, quiet and distant, cutting into her thoughts.

She wanted to go. But something else kept Ronnie from following through. That same something that made her flee when she was at Star’s house earlier. Uncertainty and fear. . .

Gooo. . . the small whispers were even softer.

She ignored the fear and went for the door she was sure he left from.

The door opened to Bronze and three others Ronnie assumed were a part of his band, they all having the same armband on with their band’s name on it.

“Hi Ronnie,” he cheerfully greeted. “You came to see me sing to you?”

The boys were charging in, forcing Ronnie from the door. Luckily, Bronze kept them from trampling over her, holding them back with his strong back and broad shoulders. He jerked forward from them shoving past him as they rushed through. But he held his ground to not topple over onto Ronnie.

Bronze stepped back once the crowd passed. “Thank you. And no, I actually just found out you were playing,” Ronnie said.

He waved his hand, like the ‘thank you’ was unnecessary. “Well then, you’re staying to hear me sing to you?”

Ronnie chuckled. “No, you came to sing to all the other girls that fan girl over you.”

Bronze nodded slowly. “If that’s what they want to think. But. . .when the words leave my mouth, they are searching for your ears in hopes to find a way to your heart.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes.

Here, he’s there. Whispers crowded her ears. Ronnie wanted to scream for them to go away when she heard. . .

“Oh, I see,” Hale said comprehendingly, from behind her. His voice was so direct, yet soft.

Ronnie twisted around, cutting off his next words. “I’m sorry for whatever you think I was saying. I was coming to find you to say that. I didn’t want. . .” Ronnie was at a loss for words. She really didn’t know what she was apologizing for. She hadn’t said or done anything that was offensive.

Hale smiled. . .again. It made Ronnie smile softly.

Whatever it was they had, whatever it was they were feeling, whatever it was they couldn’t understand was shared between both of them. It had them blushing, crushing, and bashfully smiling at each other.

Bronze tapped Ronnie’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Keep your ears open, Ronnie. I’m on in an hour.” He left, following behind the others.

Hale watched him walk away then looked back to Ronnie. “Most rock star wannabes grab a girls butt, kiss their cheek, pinch their boob. But I suppose you’re special. You get whispered to.”

Ronnie pinched her brows and bit her lip where her lip piercing was. “He’s a friend.”

“I see,” Hale drew uncomfortable. Ronnie noticed the discreet lift to his shoulders as he stuffed his hands in his back pockets and took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here to crash on your good time. I actually thought I could talk to you, maybe get a way to contact you when I can’t see you or something. But I think that plan is a bust.” He shrugged. “I’m going to head out of here.”

Stay. Stay. Ask him to stay. . . Three different voices quietly whispered to Ronnie a lot calmer. She was so confused,but a psychotic episode in front of all these people was out of the questions. The three soft voices whispered together, Don’t go. . .stay. . .

Ronnie glanced over her shoulder to the couch then back to Hale. The last thing she wanted was to go back to that couch, sit, look to her left and not see those grey eyes looking back at her. But she didn’t want to be pushy. So she nodded and said, “If. . .” she paused and looked up at him to make sure he was listening, “you really want to leave, that’s fine. But. . .I would like for you to come back over with me and enjoy this concert. If you want. No pressure or anything.”

Again, Hale smiled causing Ronnie to blush, and she felt forced to say, “I don’t usually come off this comfortable with strangers, or people period, but there is something familiar about you.”

“You too.” He nodded to her group of friends. “Come on, I’ll stay.”

Yay, they’ll stay. . . The little voices chimed together. Ronnie felt like she had three little small fairies flying around her head. They were so distracting, she wished she could swat them, smack them with a flyswatter or something.

Ronnie trailed behind Hale, refraining from touching his hand or grabbing hold of his arm. He felt too comfortable. Everything about him, his voice, the way he talked. She couldn’t put her finger on why.

But did she really need an answer as to why?

Ronnie always lived on the edge, her life was always filled with so many things unexpected. Why start questioning it now?

Chapter 6

Mind Funkd played for forty minutes. Leland had somehow made his way to them and squeezed between Ronnie and Armani. The waiters had brought them large cups of tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. And watching Hale seemed more important than keeping up with the band.

Thankfully, she didn’t have any more psycho fairy episodes, and she was grateful for it.

“You liked them?” Hale asked near her ear. Since the music started playing it made having a conversation difficult.

Ronnie nodded, sipping her coffee.

“Ronnie!” Leland yelled. “After Bleeding Pores we’re leaving.”

Ronnie nodded.

Mind Funkd wrapped up and cleared out for the Bleeding Pores.

“You came here with him?” Hale asked her a little quieter.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“If you want, I can take you home.”

“No, I can’t. I have to go home with him.”

Hale looked at her oddly, a clear misinterpretation. “Why?”

Ronnie lied, not wanting to tell Hale she was under house arrest and got out on a hope and a prayer. “He’s my brother. Our mom wants us to be home at a decent hour.” She instantly felt bad for lying. Why would I lie? That was so. . .ugh!Just how ugh of me.

“Oh okay, can’t disrespect your mom’s house.”

The guitar came loud, followed by the beats of the drums, then the base. “We quickly pulled this together.” Bronze said loud in the mic. “It was inspired by someone special I met today.” Ronnie turned around and he winked at her. “It’s called Corners. You all let us know what you think.”

The electric guitar started its solo, strumming a slow rhythmic chord, waiting for Bronze to add the lyrics.

Bronze stepped close to the mic and sung,

It wasn’t in her eyes

or the softness of her skin.

Not the curving of her hips

or the way her jewelry glistened. . .

But it was something in her smile.

In the kiss beside her lips.

She hadn’t done it in a while

but when those corners tipped I lost my. . .

The guitar stopped and quickly returned with the other instruments playing and Bronze singing,

Mind. . .

He carried it, staring at Ronnie.

I lost my, mind. . .

In the corners of her lips.

It slows again to only the guitar.

It wasn’t ‘til she smiled,

at that moment I realized

She was not your average girl,

and no longer did I recognize.

All the instruments quickly join.

Whooo I was,

and what, I was here for

and why, I was meant,

meant to be there. . .

To make her lose her mind. . .

mind. . .

In the corners of my lips.

The guitar played its solo again, having everyone standing on their feet jumping along with Bronze, as he bounced on his toes and rocked his head back and forth.

The base and the electric guitar played, slowing down the rhythm as Bronze sung,

That small lift in the corners of your lips makes you irresistible. . .

The entire band comes in playing loud as he sung louder,

Irresistible. . .

And I lost my mind.

The music stops as he concluded.

Bronze winked again before turning around to face the band.

The crowd loved it, cheering and chanting his name and the band’s name.

Ronnie loved it. His singing voice was amazing, and she smiled each time he said corners and winked.

Their second song played and Ronnie watched him sing. When he got really into it, his eyes would close as he held the mic, bringing his mouth close to it. He was tall and had good posture. Singing was a passion for him, Ronnie could tell because he poured his heart into it.

Cynical was cute, with his slanted chin, thick eyebrows, oddly clear skin, and even with the black eyeliner he threw on to accommodate the image the band was keeping up. But he looked better without it. As any guy would. If he’d take his hair out of those spikes, he could really do some damage.

Fingertips slid down Ronnie’s arm from her elbow. She snatched her arm away an inch before they made it to her bracelet. Because she lied once, she was going to have to lie again and again. If she could keep down the questions, she could keep down the lies.

She quickly turned to Hale with a sorry face.

“You don’t like to be touched?” he asked her.

“Um, no. I don’t mind it. Well, actually no, I don’t like to be touched. But that’s not―” he grabbed her hand, shutting her up. She sucked in a deep breath, familiarizing herself with the feel of his hand. Feeling his long fingers move between hers. His smooth palm pressed against hers. His thumb sliding over hers, pressing it down against the side of his hand. She watched his free hand slide over and push down her fingers to press them against the back of his hand.

Ronnie’s body was frozen, breaths were stalled. She lifted her eyes to his and gazed.

“Sorry,” Hale whispered in her ear. “I had to.”

Ronnie slowly nodded and said equally as slow, “It’s okay.”

Hale let go. “I’m going to get out of here. They’re about wrapped up and I don’t want to watch you leave.” Ronnie blushed. “Can I call you?”

Ronnie winced. She had no number for him to call. But she couldn’t tell him that because then he’d ask why and she would have to lie again. “Um, can I have your number? And I call you.”

He slightly turned his head and looked at her from the corner of his eye with a smirk. “When will you call?” His dark blond hair moved when he did, and Ronnie touched the strands that rested on his ear. Hale’s eyes shifted that direction but he patiently waited for Ronnie to finish and respond.

Responding was delayed as Ronnie was locking in the length of his hair and how it layered with some stopping by the top of his ear and another layer of locks stopping at the bottom of his ear and others brushed his neck. She captured his left ear and the rod piercing through its top and the multiple piercings in his lobe.

Her fingers left his hair and glided over his ear to his jaw and she felt the soft scrape of his beard.

Hale said nothing as she trailed her finger along his jaw line to his chin, stopping under his bottom lip before she dropped her hand.

Ronnie looked away from him, wanting to save some for later. She couldn’t capture him all right now.

“Um, what was the question?” Suddenly the noise in the room returned, along with the people around her, and the lack of her answering his question.

Hale licked his lips. “I’m not sure.” His innocent grey eyes studied Ronnie. “Here.” He scribbled his number on a napkin from the table in front of their couch. “Call me, okay. Don’t leave me clutching my phone all night waiting for you to call.”

Ronnie grinned. “Call you tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. I’ll talk to you later.” He left without looking back.

“Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go. They’re finished,” Leland said standing.

Ronnie leaned over to Armani and hugged her before hugging Kris. “Email me.” She told them.

“We will.” They chimed.

“See you later, Ronnie.”

“Bye, Star.”

Ronnie rose and headed for the door.

“Ronnie, wait.” Bronze called through the mic.

She whipped around, seeing him jump down from the stage and run over to her. She was shocked he had called out to her in front of everyone.

He smirked, the instant he made it in front of her. “I wrote you a song and sang it.”

Cheeks burning, Ronnie fought her growing smile. A warmness from the words of his song, the softness in his blue eyes as they eyed her, and his cocky smirk had her blushing. “I heard.”

“Did you like it?”

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly as she continued to fight it.

“Score. . .” he mouthed.

Ronnie cheesed.

“Aw.” Cynical threw his head back. “Double score,” he whispered. “I could never get enough of that,” he said, looking back at her.

Ronnie forced her smile to fade. “I have to go.”

He moved his hands over her wrists. The bracelets moved and Ronnie moved her arms from him. “I know. I’ll see you later. Thanks for listening. One day, you’ll let me sing you the other one.”

“The other one?”

“Our secret number two.” He nodded, backing away, and then turned off.

“Ronnie, you know if you date two guys you’re a slut,” Leland said, starting up the car.

“I beg your pardon,” Ronnie blurted out, offended.

“If you date two guys that makes you a slut.” He repeated, more directly.

“Leland, shut up talking to me.”

Leland turned up the music. He had some nerve saying that. She wasn’t dating anyone.

But Ronnie had to be nice because she needed to use him again. Specifically, she needed to use his phone. She turned down the radio. “I’m not dating two boys, Leland.”

“Hey, I’m just letting you know.”

“Look, I need to use your phone tonight.”

“Okay.”

“That easy?”

“Yeah. You’ll just owe me.”

TO BE CONTINUED... in Left in Your Drawings