prose
jOSH ELFORD
is trying to break free. There are back alleys with dirty blankets and pillows, and there’s a faint smell of burnt rubber from lingering garbage fires. Beside one of the pillows in the alley is a rusted hatchet and we hope its only use was for chopping wood to add to their fires. As we enter the parking lot, me and Doyle notice a couple of girls walking on the ledge on the second floor. The two girls meet our eyes as we approach our room on the ground level. One is wearing what looks like a muumuu meant for obese women, though she’s far from that. She has a cute face with messy brunette hair. She’s a natural beauty, with no need for make-up. Her friend has sleek brown hair and the look of a veteran smoker. She has slightly bigger bags under her eyes than the other girl. They look to be in their early twenties. “Just be your usual, beautiful self, Theo.” They descend the stairs to come talk to us. Doyle knows me. He can tell by the look on my face that the closer the girls get to us the more nervous I become. I haven’t told him that I’ve never had sex before, but I’m certain that my brother Goo has enlightened him on the subject. Confidence doesn’t come easy for me. Doyle marches right up to the girls with unwavering bravado, even with the puke smell still emitting from his clothes. We have no chance. “Hello boys,” the girl in the muumuu says. I’m surprised to see that they said hello first, isn’t that the job of the guy? I peruse my mind for smooth words. Should I tell them I’m good at baseball? They won’t care. Should I tell them I get good grades? They won’t care. “We’re from Surrey. We’re your northern neighbors,” Doyle tells them. I’ve been lost in thought. I hadn’t noticed that they were already mid-conversation. “I’m Aahana,” the girl in the muumuu says. “And this is my soul mate Kelsey.” “It’s great to meet you girls. I’m Doyle and this tasty piece is Theo. Look at his beautiful head of hair. Go ahead and feel.” I feel the heat rise to my face. Aahana smiles and runs her hand slowly though my flow of almond hair. She slowly slides her fingers to the back of my head and starts rubbing it. “You have beautiful hair,” she says to me softly. “So, you girls want to come have a couple beers with some stud baseball players? We have plenty to go around,” Doyle asks. “Maybe,” Kelsey says coyly. They walk away giggling and disappear across the street and out of our sight. Doyle has a dejected look on his face. “Sorry,” I say to him. “Don’t apologize. Just be more confident next time. Girls find that super sexy.” Out of the back window of our room we can see the alley with the blankets and hatchet. The window does not lock and there’s a stool that would make it almost comfortable to hop in through it and onto the room’s couch. Our room is large. We have a living room, a kitchen, and a separate room with two king-sized beds. We decide I get the couch, but for fear of bed bugs and semen stains I decide sleeping tonight won’t be an option. We have a very large broken TV that resembles a radio more than a television. Only static
Doyle marches right up to the girls with unwavering bravado, even with
the puke smell still emitting from his clothes. We have no chance.
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