Changing Seasons

Sixteen

****

He thought about being sent to live with his dad, in the shitty single side trailer near the industrial part of town. His dad was not happy to have Krist living there, "If I catch you stealing anything, don't think I will hesitate to put your ass out on the street," he had warned him upon hearing that Krist had been caught car prowling with Daniel.

Although he had zero intentions of returning to that, he felt irritated that his dad was threatening him with the streets. Krist was given a small room in the trailer, not much larger than a closet. It fit a small single mattress, a dresser and that was about it. His mother had let him take his tv and gaming system from home, beyond that and his clothes, that was all he had. Since his dad had moved from the tiny shitbox house, he knew nobody in town, spending the first few days laying in bed, on his phone or playing video games.

Eventually he started sitting on the steps of the small deck, chain smoking as he watched the clouds or the trailer park dramas that would unfold. He took interest in the trailer immediately to the left of his dad's. It was a middle aged couple, their son who must have been early to mid twenties and presumably the son's girlfriend. They were all definitely tweakers and more than likely dealers given the amount of comings and goings that happened.

One overcast afternoon, Krist was sitting shirtless on the steps, wearing a pair of oversized basketball shorts and Nike slides, working on his third cigarette in a row, drinking orange juice from the carton. Like he often was, the son had been out working on an old beater Honda Accord. He was a tall dude, shaved head, thin build, covered in poorly done tattoos. Always seemed to be in a fight with his girlfriend. He had a small stereo on the pavement beside his car and blasted Marilyn Manson. Krist wasn't a fan of the music but Jeordie loved it.

The girlfriend had stormed out of their single wide, slamming the aluminum screen door behind her, visibly pissed. She was small, waif like in build, pale skin with cherry red hair cut into a bob with pointed bangs. He could see the sores on her skin from where he was. She had been wearing a tight off-white cami with torn black jeans. Even though she was slender in build, Krist could tell she was braless and liked how her tits bounced as she stormed over to the assumed boyfriend.

"Who is she, Michael, who the fuck is she?" She shrieked, voice shrill. Michael, half glanced up, appearing to care less that he had ninety pounds of fury coming his way. She shoved a phone under his face, "Her! Her, Michael!"

Michael stood up fully, "You're fucking tripping, I ain't even talk to that bitch." Krist didn't have to know these people to know Michael was lying.

"You don't know no Cassidy?" She spit, "Is that why you are in her fucking inbox, Michael, asking for pussy pictures, Michael?" She held the phone again, "That ain't your beat up looking cock in her inbox?"

Krist almost choked on his orange juice. This shit was hella funny.

Michael casually walked around the other side of his rust bucket, "Why you looking through my shit, worry bout ya damn self." Dude was not phased whatsoever. This infuriated his girl, ramping up her anger. She came at him, fists flying, catching him in the jaw. When she attempted to go for his face again, his open hand slapped her.

"You piece of shit, Michael!" She screamed.

"Hit me again, bitch," he hissed at her.

"I fucking hate you!" She shrieked! "Fuck you!"

As she began to walk towards the exit of the trailer park, an older model Chevy truck sped in, a dude was driving it. The girlfriend hopped in.

"Give him road head, ya dumb cunt!" He shouted in her direction. He noticed Krist had been watching and grinned at him, displaying a missing front tooth, "Fucking broads, for real man"

Krist laughed, "For real, you want a smoke?"

Michael swaggered over, "Hell yeah," Krist handed him a Newport, "Good lookin 'out, man, thanks bro."

"Yeah, no thing," Krist handed him his lighter.

"You just move in here?"

He nodded, "Yeah, about a week ago. I'm Krist, by the way."

"Michael," he handed the lighter back, "You Marcus' son?"

Krist nodded, "Yeah."

"He's a good dude," Michael told him. His dad was clearly still getting high.

Krist spit to the side, shrugging, "He's alright."

"You from Longview?"

"Nah, I was living with my mom in Vancouver until I got kicked out," he went on to elaborate on his activities leading up to his moving.

Michael nodded, "I do a little bit of that myself," he laughed.

Krist began kicking it with Michael regularly, getting high and helping him fuck with his piece of shit car, do random projects around Michael's parents' trailer or driving around slangin dope.

One evening, they'd been starting to come down and were hungry. Michael suggested they stop in at a bomb ass taqueria down the street to grub. The girl working counter was fine as hell, she was light skinned Hispanic with large green eyes, highlighted brown hair that was pulled back into a tight bun and full lips. She was hella cute. The way she smiled at him, checks flushing, Krist could tell she was into him. For the first time since Atira, he got that butterfly feeling.

As they were headed out, Krist asked if she had a pen he could borrow, she nodded. He scribbled down his name and phone number, handing her back the pen and scrap of paper, "Hit me up sometime," he told her, flashing a cocky grin.

She shot him a text a few hours later, "Hi, it's Nina, from the restaurant."

"Sup, beautiful." He had been such a douche back then. They texted a few hours and had agreed to kick it on her day off, giving Krist enough time to fully come down and sleep.

Her name was Nina, she was seventeen, the restaurant she worked at belonged to her parents. He'd had her come over to his dad's to hangout. She had worn a teal colored scoop neck t-shirt with a denim skirt and flip flops. Nina was sweet like Atira, a little shy at first--he liked that. After a few beers and a shared blunt, she had loosened up and became pretty assertive. He'd sealed the deal with her that first day; from then on, they were inseparable if she was not working.