we help her out as much as we can, but Poppy goes home to a nice warm bed in a nice safe house on a nice quiet street. You don’t. Every time you pull shit like this, you risk getting raped or killed. It’s fucked up, Megan, but this is our life,” I tell her, frustrated.
“And what about you, Viddy? Jesus, you talk like you’re an adult and I’m a child, when I’m older than you, for Christ’s sake.” She huffs. “You’re gone most of the night, you come back covered in bruises and blood, and you have the balls to talk to me about taking unnecessary risks.”
“You’re making it sound as if I have a choice, Megan, when we both know what will happen if I don’t turn up when I’m summoned.”
The familiar flash of guilt in her eyes makes me sigh.
“I’ve told you a hundred times over, Megan, this is not your fault. It’s been six months. You have got to let this shit go. Four more months and you’ll turn eighteen and we’ll be able to get you off these streets, but you have to stay safe. Don’t let all this be in vain, okay?”
I had been making a little money as a runner and saving it for a deposit and rent money, knowing as soon as Megan turned eighteen, I could finally get her somewhere safer, hopefully as far away from here as possible. It’s what we’ve been counting down to. Nobody would rent to two underage girls. They would call social services and throw us into the system when we are so close to freedom. Or at least Megan is. She deserves a life away from the dirty streets and the corrupt people who live here.
“Why aren’t you signing? My hands might be full, but yours aren’t,” I scold lightly. We had spent as much time as possible at the library, learning everything we could about ASL. For whatever reason, I’m the only person Megan will talk to verbally, and she needs a way to communicate with people other than pen and paper.
She rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, making me snort. Moments like this remind me we’re just kids playing dress-up in a grown-up’s world, even if somedays I feel ancient.
Tossing the used cotton ball to the ground, I turn to face her when her hands sign, slowly at first but picking up speed as she gains confidence.
I follow along until she hits the part in the story about how she got away from the two drunks that grabbed her.
“Wait, stop! Who the fuck is Wyatt?”
She pauses for a second, so I sign what I just said and wait for her to reply.
“He was asleep beside the dumpster they tried to drag me behind. When I first caught sight of him, I thought he was with them, and I knew I was fucked. This guy is huge, Viddy. I wouldn’t be surprised if his mother mated with a giant.” She shakes her head with a grin, her ebony curls bouncing around her face.
“Focus, Meg.” I sigh, exasperated.
“Right, Wyatt. I think at first he thought I might have been drinking and was messing around, but when I started screaming he stepped in and fucked both guys up before bringing me back here.”
I fist my hands so tightly I can feel my nails dig into my skin. Trying to keep my calm, I grit my teeth. “You led him back here?”
“I was scared, Viddy, really fucking scared, but not of this guy who could snap me like a toothpick. I know bad guys, Viddy. Wyatt’s not one of them,” she insists, urging me to trust her.
I blow out a breath and look up at the rotting ceiling of the old shack we’ve been staying in. It’s attached to the high school but sits at the far end of the football field and houses old and outdated sports equipment and exercise mats. All the newer stuff is kept in the swanky upgraded storage facility closer to the school itself, in range of the school’s security cameras.
Apart from the shelter this place provided, and the somewhat comfortable mats to sleep on, Megan and I were able to sneak into the school when it opened and shower in the locker rooms before everyone arrived. We are, after all, teenage girls, making it easy to blend in.
“Where is he now?” I ask, needing to find out what I can about this guy to see if we need to