Serendipity

1. Whose Car is this?

I always liked this time of day, when we were on the brink of night but not quite into it. I'm pretty sure there was a specific term for it, but I wouldn't know. I could see people leaving their jobs and heading into the subway to go home, and vice versa. The relief that spread across one's face when they knew they were done for the day was refreshing. I could relate to them. I wondered where they would go now - to their families - to their homes?

I sighed as I took the last sip of my Budweiser long neck and let my eyes wander to the nearest trash can standing next to the light post that was about 5 meters away from the laundry steps where I was currently chilling. To get up or not to get up, that's the question! I laughed internally at my poor parody of Hamlet. At least I remembered that one. I eyed the trash can again and then decided. Not to get up. I prepared myself, calculated the right trajectory for the bottle, and then threw it.

"Buckets! What an amazing throw from Carter, and the crowd goes wild!" I heard Scott's squeaky voice and turned, smiling, to see my favorite teenager.

"Sup, bro?" I said.

He smiled, making his slightly crooked white teeth shine in contrast to his dark complexion, and then saluted me with our secret handshake.

"Sup! How was washing panties today?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes as he sat beside me in all the swag he could muster, which made me laugh.

"I told you, dipshit! I don't touch the clothes. I'm a cashier."

He looked at me with amusement in his eyes, which made me realize that he remembered that and was just messing with me as always.

Scott was my foster little brother. I met him when I was 16 in one of the many foster homes I had been in when I was still in the system. He was barely 8 and wasn't coping too well with our alcoholic foster "mom," which made me get close to him and take on that whole big sister role. After that, whenever we had to change homes, the social service decided to let us be together, apparently for Scott's better development, and I had already gotten too attached to him, so I was really happy about that. Nine years later, I'm already a grown-up and out of the system, but even though Scott is still a minor in his 17s and is still in it, we see each other pretty much every day.

"Yo! Brianna was looking for you yesterday, you know..." Scott said as the thought just occurred to him, wiggling his brows suggestively at the end.

Hugh, Brianna. Don't get me wrong. Brianna was a nice girl - sexy as hell, an amazing dancer, and let's not forget the amazing lay part too. The thing was, Brianna was too involved. She wanted more than I could give her. More than I could give anyone, for that matter.

"Bri knows I'm not one to date. I don't fucking get it. What's gotten over her now?" I said.

Scott laughed at this and shrugged.

"I'm telling you, sis. Gotta hold out your honey. The ladies are like coke addicts for it," he said.

I looked at him strangely as he put on a smug expression and made a show of putting the collar of his hoodie in place. "I'm telling you... The honey, it's a family thing," he winked, and I burst out laughing. Where the fuck did this boy get his confidence from? I wondered.

"Shut up!" I slapped the back of his head playfully.

"Ouch! What was that for?" I gave him a pointed look, but he just laughed it off and got up from the steps we were sitting on, offering his hand for me to take. "Come on, I'll drive you. Let's get your lame white ass home." I looked at him, puzzled. What the fuck is this boy talking about?