Page 19 of Home With You

"Which is what I was trying to say. Hey, why don't we talk about something else?"

"Why? Because talking about this makes you uncomfortable?" I stand up. "It doesn't matter. I gotta go. I've already stayed too long."

He gets up. "Hold on. Before you go, can I at least get your number?"

"Don't have one,” I say, grabbing my coffee cup.

"Don't have what?"

"A number. A phone." I walk to the door.

Miles follows behind. "If you don't want to give me your number, that's fine. But can I give you mine? Just in case you ever want to meet again?"

I turn to him. "For the last time, I don't have a phone. I think they're a waste of money and I don't need one. As for meeting again? I don't think it's a good idea." I open the door. "Thanks for the coffee."

He waits at the door and watches me walk away, which means I have to walk in the opposite direction of where I live. Gladys is going to wonder where I am. I'm usually there by now, back in the small beat-up tent we call home. I take it down every morning in case the cops decide to show up and tell us we can't be there, which happened a few months ago. Ever since then, I wait until night to put it up, still worried we'll get told we have to leave, but so far, the cops haven't been back.

By now, Gladys is probably worried sick. I should've run out and told her where I was, making up some excuse to Miles about why I had to leave. But knowing him, he'd question whatever fake story I came up with.

I thought I liked him, but now? I realize he's just like everyone else. Thinking he knows everything about the homeless when he doesn't have a clue. Okay, so maybe he didn't come out and state his assumptions but I know he has them. Everyone does, or at least the people who've never experienced the hell of not having a place to live. It sucks and it's not a decision but a reality forced on me, and others, because of whatever got us to this point. For me it was a series of wrong decisions made worse by trusting the wrong people, or one in particular.

"Gladys." I see her sitting in her lawn chair and race up to her.

"Raine!" She slowly gets up. She has arthritis and doesn't move too fast. "I was so worried, dear." She cups my face. "Where have you been?"

"In the coffee shop. Sorry, I should've come out and told you." I hold up my cup. "You want the rest of this? It's a pumpkin latte."

She looks at it. "Latte? Those are expensive. Did Shelly give that to you?"

"No. Someone um...bought it for me." I sit down on the milk crate, feeling embarrassed to tell her this, although I don't know why.

"Who?" she asks, sitting back down on her lawn chair.

"It was a guy. I met him last night. Well, I didn't actually meet him. I saw him and said hi. He was in the coffee shop when I went in to use the bathroom."

"And you saw him again today?"

"Yeah, he was on the street on his way to the coffee shop. He had his laptop. He was going to work on stuff for his job. He's a lawyer." I chew on my lip, wondering why I told her all that and why I even remembered it. By now, I should've wiped that guy from my head. He's just some stranger I had coffee with who I doubt I'll ever see again.

"Why did he buy you coffee?" she asks, caution in her voice. Like me, she trusts almost no one. It's how you have to be when you live on the streets.

"It was a stupid bet. I told him I liked apple fritters but that they run out of them by noon. We made a deal that if they had one left I'd agree to have coffee with him. I never in a million years thought they'd have one left. But they did, so I was stuck having coffee with him."

"How old is this man?"

I shrug. "Not sure. Maybe 25? 26?"

Her brows draw together. "Don't see him again. Stay away from him."

"I didn't plan to see him again. Why are you looking at me like that?"

She points her finger at me and scowls. "Because that man is up to no good. You're a smart girl, Raine, but if a young man gets your attention, charms you, buys you things, you'll find yourself in trouble, like you did last time."

"Like I don't know that?" I ask, angry at her for bringing up my past. She knows it's not something I want to talk about. I'll always feel stupid for not seeing Rob for who he really was, for missing the signs, only seeing what I wanted to see. I fell for his charm and good looks and his money and look where it got me. Out here on the streets.

"I'm not trying to dig at old wounds," Gladys says. "I just want you to be careful. There are men out there who see a pretty girl like you and think it'd be easy to get their way with you. They think if they offer you something you'll agree to—"

"Yeah, I know all that. I know guys want sex. I get harassed every time I go out to find food. But Miles is...he's not like that. Or maybe he is, but it doesn't matter because I'm not going to see him again."

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