Page 12 of Alex
“Nah,I’ll run to the grocery store. Teenage boys eat everything in sight.”
“Thanks.I appreciate you letting him stay the night.”
Iangazes at me. “This is your home too. You don’t need my permission for shit.”
Well,okay then.
Seeingthe Striking Back shelter and meeting the residents and staff seems to put Kyleat ease. He can see he isn’t being drawn into a group of predators or dangerouspeople. After Ms. Den insists on feeding him again—and damned if he didn’tclean that plate too—we make our way to the store room where the donations arekept. Racks and shelves of clothing line the walls, surrounding large boxes ofitems yet to be sorted.
“Okay,men’s clothing is kept on those two racks. See what we have that will fit you.And grab a coat, too.”
Hiseyes widen at the prospect of new clothes. “You’re just giving them to me?”
“Theywere given to us for that purpose,” I explain, handing him an empty box. “Someof it is worn, but in good condition. The drawers contain new packages ofunderwear and socks, so don’t forget them. I’ll be back in a second.”
Whilehe digs through the clothes, I move to the personal items and grab him somesoap, shampoo, razors, and shaving cream. It should be enough to hold him overfor a bit. When I return he’s studying a box of art supplies, a thoughtfulexpression on his face. “Do you like to draw?”
“Sometimes.I’m not too bad at it.”
Igrab a set of colored pencils and a sketchpad and add them to the box ofpersonal items. “Did you find some clothes?”
“Yeah,I have everything I need.”
“Thenlet’s go back to my place. I’m sure Ian needs a video game buddy.”
“Youdon’t play?” he asks as we carry the boxes to the car.
“Isuck at video games. Always have. Except Tetris. I kick ass on Tetris.”
Kylesnorts. “And Pong?”
“Allright, smart ass. Get in the car.”
Pausing,he looks at me. “Thanks Alex. I really…I thought I’d never get away from him.”
“Iknow. Things will get better now. I promise.”
Ianis grinning like a madman when we come through the door. “One of your flooziescoming over?” I ask, and Kyle laughs.
“Nope.Just picked up a little something.”
Hewaves a new game and Kyle exclaims, “The new Halo!” And I’ve lost them. Theyspend the rest of the night shooting and laughing while I dig into my newStephen King book. It’s after midnight when Kyle stumbles off to bed and Ianturns to me.
“Doyou know where he’s going to end up?”
“It’sdifficult,” I sigh. “He can’t go to school or get a job. Even if no one isactively looking for him, he’s a missing person. He can’t use his socialsecurity number until he turns eighteen. Mason said one of the residents werelocated a few years ago has offered to take him in until then. She lives inAlabama.”
“Maybewe could,” he says, nonchalant.
“Wecould what?”
“Takecare of him until he’s emancipated.”
Myjaw nearly touches my collar. “You want to take on a kid? It won’t be all latenight video games, you know.”
Heswitches off the game console. “I’m aware. He’d be with you most of the time,since I have a day job. He could go to the gym with you, couldn’t he? I mean,it’s up to you, but I wouldn’t mind if he stayed. He’s a good kid and he needshelp.”
“Ifyou aren’t careful, people are going to think you’re a good guy, you know.”
