“What are you doing?”
“Waiting.” I shrug and place my hands under my thighs because they’re getting cold. I’m not even sure I feel the soles of my feet anymore at this point.
“For what?” He sounds curious.
“For them to finish and then…” I chew on the inside of my cheek, “cool off, I guess.”
He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You’re freezing, Josie. You don’t even have shoes on.”
“Well, sucks to be homeless.” I chuckle darkly, sniffling and wiping my itchy nose with the sleeve of my sweater. Very unlike me, but very fitting for the situation. Being homeless is starting to get to me. Homeless and lonely.
He lets out a loud sigh before speaking again. “Let’s go.”
I instantly perk up. “Thank you! I don’t know how else I’d get to the house tonight when everyone is… busy.” Then I add, mumbling under my nose. “I should have stayed there from the beginning.”
“No, Josie.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to drive you there.”
“Why?” I blink.
“I can’t leave you there with a clear conscience. I just can’t.” He looks—and sounds—tortured.
“The house is fine,” I try convincing him, but he just presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Where will you drive me then?”
A shrug of his wickedly broad shoulders stretches his beige uniform shirt. “My place. You can stay there until tomorrow.”
I feel my eyes going round like saucers. “Your place?”
“Yes.” He spreads his arms, showcasing his muscles. “Looks like you’re out of options.”
I sniffle again. “I can’t stay at your place. It’s not,” I chew on my cheek, looking for the right word, “appropriate.”
“It’s fine. You’re my friend’s friend, and you can crash in my guest bedroom. Alright?”
I look at his face, searching for any indication that I might regret it later, but find nothing. Only a good citizen of Little Hope, offering a helping hand to a fellow acquaintance who ended up in the dirt. Quite literally.
“Alright,” I quietly agree with a shrug and rise to my feet. “I still think that if you could drive me back to the house, that would be awesome.”
He ignores me and marches toward his cruiser. Before following him, I glance back at the door, reconsidering staying here and waiting, but another moan sounds through the door, and I scutter after Kenneth.
When I get inside the car, I feel a calmness spreading through my very being despite the situation.
“You’re tougher than you look.” Kenneth’s quiet voice breaks me out of my daze, and I look over at him.
“Yeah? Why?”
He glances at me briefly before returning his attention back to the road. “I’d expect you to rush back to your fancy home in the big city.”
And just like that, the spell is broken.
“I don’t have a fancy home in the big city,” I reply, my fists balling on my knees, angry at his assumptions. Even though I’d probably assume the same. Wasn’t it the sole purpose of maintaining this image so that everyone would think exactly what he’s assuming? Looks like I’ve reached my goal, but it does seem less desirable now.
“Could have fooled me,” he mumbles loud enough for me to hear.
“Judgmental much?” I snort and turn toward him. “Do you think you have me all figured out, huh? From the few interactions we’ve had?”
He gives me a side-eye. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what? Like I’m some dumb bimbo from a big city who’s chasing brands and money?” Even though I’ve been building this image for years, somehow, it irks me that he sees me this way. All this is just the wrapper. I’m so much more underneath, but it looks like no one understands that. And even though I wanted this very thing, I loathe that he’s been fooled too.