Page 118 of Single Teddy
He was a kid. He should be playing with his friends and having a good time. Not be stuck in a food truck all weekend long becausehis uncle didn’t make enough money to support him. I had to figure out something. A solution to all this.
The annoying part was that I enjoyed working here. Alongside Zach. Seeing the light in people’s eyes when they bit into one of his pastries and cakes. It made me want to learn how to do that to. To bake. But as much as I enjoyed all my jobs, this way of living wasn’t viable in the long run.
“Okay,” Bear sighed, and Zach grabbed my arm.
“If you want to go home, it’s okay. I can manage.”
I glanced at my friend, and even though I knew he meant it, I also knew he needed me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “But maybe I can take a break to take him to the park for a bit.”
“Of course,” he answered, and I waited for Bear to finish his drink and pie before we jumped off the truck to go to the park a couple of blocks down.
But when we got there, Bear didn’t know what to do with himself, so I jumped straight into action and showed him how to play, from going down slides to climbing monkey bars to using the see-saws or the swings until Bear was running, laughing, and panting like kids his age should.
“Did you have a good time?” I asked him on the way back.
He nodded. “Can we do it again?”
“Of course. We can come again after work if you want.”
He smiled and took my hand, leading me back to the food truck and Zach.
When we got back, I checked my phone I’d left on charge for any messages, but Wesley still hadn’t replied to any of them.
Teddy:
Hey, just want to check you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you all day. Hope lunch with your sisters is going well.
“Still nothing?” Zach asked.
I shook my head.
“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably too busy chatting to check his phone.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
I tapped my phone screen one more time before I went back to work, making drinks and serving happy customers with worry weighing heavily on me.
Half an hour later, I spotted a familiar face, and the weight lifted off my shoulders.
Ruby was with another young woman, who I assumed was Wesley’s other sister, Lexi, and they were both running toward the food truck.
It was only when they got closer that I recognized the anguish in their expressions, and my stomach sank.
“Ruby. Are you okay?” I asked.
“Have you seen Wesley?” she asked, out of breath.
“I thought he was with you,” I said and immediately jumped off the truck to pull her and Lexi aside.
“He never showed up. Something happened, and he went to the police station?—”
“The station? Why?” I asked, but instead of answering me, Lexi put her phone in my hand, and I read the message from Wesley.
Wesley:
Saw two of my students alone in the street, so I brought them to the MHPD as I’m concerned about their living conditions. We’re waiting for CPS. I won’t make lunch.
