"What's worse,
Being wanted but not loved
Or loved but not wanted?"
-Dove Cameron
Dodger knew that Ollie was dead. He was there when the guards sliced through her, and he left her for dead. But, what happens when all clues point to her being ali...
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Ruby hair glistened in the light of the street. The sky was dark; its only company was the miniature suns caged up and down the street lines of London. Houses and restaurants stood on every corner and road; however, these buildings slanted toward you as though they would fall and crush you at any second.
A girl stood in baggy brown pants, her ruby hair tucked into her tattered busboy hat. Her shirt was white, hanging off her arms and wrists, encasing her in filthy purity. Her face was covered in red freckles, decorating her face to look like dirt. Her hands were covered in scars and cuts, some healing properly, others scabbed over in scraggly brown. She looked more boy than girl, frankly an excellent thing to be as a poor beggar in London.
"Lottie, did ya get the food?" A heavy, accented, young voice whispered in the girl's ear.
A short boy stood next to Ollie. He stood about 5 feet, a couple inches more concise than the fiery-haired girl. Fancy-looking pants hung from his legs, 2 sizes too big, though only if you looked closer could you see the speckled dirt and tiny holes. He wore a stained gray shirt with rolled-up sleeves underneath a messy and moth-bitten vest.
Olympia pulled a couple of apples and pieces of bread from her hidden pockets, shyly handing them over to the more petite boy. "My name is Ollie." She whispered.
The boy ignored her as he inspected the soggy bread and apples for mold. After what seemed like forever, the boy threw one of the apples at Ollie. However, not expecting it, she fumbled and slipped as she tried to catch it, encasing the shiny apple with her numb, red hands.
"That's for you, the boys are gluttons, and you don't look like the confrontational type."
Ollie nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Mr.Jack."
The small boy waved her away with his hand, "It's Dodger. And no need to thank me, it's just your cut of the food. If you hadn't brought enough for everyone else, I wouldn't have given you anything."
Olympia stood awkwardly in embarrassment as the small boy walked away, leaving her alone with the nicest apple Olympia had been able to find.
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A week later, Olympia was still the outsider amongst the boys of the group. Having been brought in by The Artful Dodger himself, the other guys hadn't tried to interact with her. Leaving her to eat, sleep, and entertain herself in the dark corner of the abandoned compound, entirely and utterly alone. A man named Fagin would occasionally come to talk to her and ask her how she was adjusting, though she could tell that he didn't have that much experience when it came to interacting with people of the opposite sex. Though Ollie didn't dislike Fagin. However, she disliked this young, chubby, curly-haired boy who tried to talk to her. Oliver, she thought his name was. She had always sensed something off about him when they interacted; he made her skin crawl.
