Saturday, January 27, 2024

52 – This Gift, This Curse

 

 

"Will's good people. He's been trying to get me off the streets." And that much is true "That night, he ran into me and… and we went up on the roof because he wanted to"—Mick managed a wry smile, "lecture me again, in private, about how I could make something of myself. I saw you, and I did make the comment about all the cute guys being straight. I showed him who I meant… you, and that's all she wrote, as they say. I helped him try to find you, since I know the streets and then… well, I sort of got involved with the rest of it."

 

Kevin nodded, obviously trying to take in what Mick was telling him. Finally he asked, "How long have you been homeless?"

 

"Since I was fourteen."

 

"Damn."

 

"Hey, it's not so bad. I mean, it isn't great, but you learn fast how to survive."

 

"I don't think I could."

 

"Yeah, you could, if your life depended on it."

 

"Did you…?" Kevin shook his head. "I've read stories about… about what it takes to make it, so to speak."

 

"Like selling drugs or my body? Drugs, yeah, some. After all, that's part of why my folks got so pissed that I ran rather than stay with them. I put what I knew to good use, for a while. I never sold myself though."

 

"I'm glad," Kevin said softly.

 

"So now you know." Mick blew out a short breath, starting to get up. "I should get back before Will…"

 

Kevin grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. "There's no hurry."

 

"You're sure. I mean, umm, don't you have to get some sleep or something because you have that exam tomorrow?"

 

"Yeah, but right now I'm not tired, so I'd just toss and turn."

 

"And that wouldn't be good."

 

Kevin shook his head. "Not at all. So… having some company until I'm ready to pass out would be good." He looked at Mick with a mixture of hope and pleading.

 

"Never let it be said I'd turn down an offer to keep you company." He felt butterflies in his stomach when Kevin smiled happily at his reply.

 

This is so damned… stupid.

 

"Tell me more about you," Kevin said, leaning back against the sofa.

 

"No. Now it's your turn. I don't actually know much about you, you know."

 

"Not much to tell really. I'm an only child. Mom's a cop, believe it or not. That's why she couldn't stay longer. They needed her back on the job. My father died before I was born." Kevin frowned. "At least that's what I was told. Sometimes I wonder if he didn't just leave because he couldn't face having a family."

 

Mick cocked his head in question. "Why do you think that?"

 

"When I was, oh, fourteen maybe, I got curious about how he died. Mom said it was in the line of duty."

 

"He was a cop too?"

 

"Um-hum. A detective. So anyway, I did some checking online. I couldn't find anything about him. My uncle was listed, but no other cop. Not for that time frame."

 

"Did you say anything to your mom?"

 

Kevin shook his head. "How could I call her a liar? Especially since maybe she wasn't. Maybe there was more to the story—or something."



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