Page 5 of Switch
Right.“You got parents?Is your home safe?”Kid’s probably not out here trying to rob me for giggles.
“Y-yeah.Needed some groceries, that’s all.Mom’s been sick.”
Has his mom been sick the way mine used to be?Fuck it, it’s none of my fucking business.But I’ve got a soft spot for kids with messed-up moms, so I pull out my wallet.
“Here.”I fork over a twenty, and the damn frequent muncher card.Handing him the slightly wrinkled rectangle with its cheerful lettering honestly gives me heartburn.
“Man, what the hell is this thing?”He’s frowning at the card.
“It’s got enough stamps for a free half dozen cookies.You’ve got to get yourself downtown, but it’s worth the trip.Unless you don’t want them…” I reached out to take it back.
“Fuck you, man.It’s mine now.”The kid jerks his hand away and sticks it behind his back.“I think I’ve heard of that place.They give them to you warm and everything?”
“Warm and gooey.”
“Th-thanks.I appreciate it.Really.”For a second, his face flushes red.
“Good.Then maybe you can help me out with something.”I pull my phone out, which is still displaying the picture I’d been showing around the Mission.“Have you seen this guy?”
The picture is a couple of years old, but it’s the best one I’ve got.In it, my foster brother Evans is leaning against a pool table, with one of those red plastic cups in his hand.
He’s got a broad grin on his face, and his dark hair is tousled the way he always wore it.Dark eyes sparkle with laughter because someone had just told a stupid dick joke.He’s got one arm bent to rub the back of his neck.A nervous thing he did.Does, I mean.
The pose only serves to showcase his well-defined biceps and perpetually sun-kissed skin.He’s the only person I’ve met who can wear a muscle tee without looking like an asshole.
If I’d known what was going to happen, I’d have made sure to take more pictures.Better ones.
These days, I’ve come to expect the looks—the helpless confusion, like the expression on this kid who tried to mug me.
“Don’t know him, sorry,” the kid says.“Who is he?”
“My brother.Went missing about a year ago.”
I’ve come to expectthislook.The one that roughly translates toyou haven’t given up yet?
Not until I find a body.
“You know, after that long, he’s probably d?—”
“Yeah,” I snap.“Let’s say that sick mom of yours all of a sudden disappeared.How long before you’d stop looking?”
“You’re right.”He bobs his head.“Totally.You gotta do everything you can for the ones you love.Also, though, living around here, you learn you can’t save everyone.”He shakes his head, like he realizes he’s said something I don’t want to hear, and I’m still holding a knife.“Uh, I gotta go, but you know, thanks.Sorry I couldn’t help.”
He turns to leave, but I stop him with a shout.
“You forgot your knife, man.”I point to the ground.
He gives me the finger and hurries off, disappearing around the corner behind the Mission—little shit.
My phone pings in my hand.
Landlord: Rent’s due a week from Monday, dick bag.Not taking it late any more.Make sure it’s in my male slot by Tuesday morning or you’re ass is getting evicted.
Fuck’s sake.Autocorrect is doing this guy no favors.
PJ: I don’t want to put anything in your male slot
Landlord: You know what the fuck I mean, don’t fuck with me on this or I’ll fuck you
