Between the Lines

Twenty-one - Calvin

I wait around for the store to close and as soon as Baylee finishes her jobs, she takes me up a spiral staircase. The staircase comes up into a cosy, little break-room. There isn't much in the room, there's only two couches and a low coffee table to one side of the room and a line of counters against the other wall mixed in with a fridge and microwave. The walls are bare with random nails and hooks poking out as if pictures used to decorate them. It feels homely and somehow isolated at the same time.

Baylee leads me down a path that cuts through stray belongings and children's toys, stepping over a random cushion, "Don't mind the mess, one of the employees has a kid who stays up here some days."

She leads me across the room to a door and pushes it open. Behind the door is a small room, barely big enough to fit a single bed and a humble little desk. The bed is made with a faded red duvet and crisp white sheets.

I place my bag on the desk and Baylee turns to me, "It's not a lot and probably not what you're used to..."

She's definitely Lower-class. Only Lower-class' tend to say that.

"It's perfect," I say to her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"There's toilets down the hall before you go up the stairs if you need it," she points to the desk, "And in the top drawer, there's a pair of keys that will unlock the staff bathrooms and the back door."

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here. I thought I might have had to sleep it out on some random bench or find a nice patch of grass to be honest." I can't believe I just brushed off breaking the law so lightly. I really don't think I could ever repay her.

She laughs, "No worries. Sorry if it's a bit unkempt. We haven't used upstairs as more than just a break room since we moved out-" Her face tenses up and looks at me to observe my reaction. No one is meant to reside in the Middle for any amount of time. That's why there's no residential area and no hotels or motels. It's illegal.

I barely react, "Baylee... It's okay. It's not like I would tell anyone. I mean," I hesitate for a second, "The reason I'm here is to find Oliver, even if I have to break class law and regulations."

"We only lived here while we got the business going," She says with a drawn-out exhale, "It was too expensive for Mum and Dad to rent this place as well as an apartment in Lower-class, so we had to make do. But since we found a place, this just became a breakroom to cover it up."

"I can imagine it would be expensive. I'm kind of surprised you didn't get caught."

She smiles once again, "I'm surprised you and Oliver haven't been caught."

She catches me off-guard and I have to fend off an intense blush. "Well... that might've changed."

We sat down and talked for some time. It was weird at first, I knew Baylee, but I knew nothing about her, and she knew nothing about me. But eventually, we were interrupted by another employee and shortly after Baylee, and everyone else, left, leaving me alone.

After a while I get rather peckish. The MacDonald's breakfast burger wasn't enough to keep me happy all day. I need to find somewhere to eat but there's not much debate on where I should go, so I set course for the 90's diner that Oliver and I ordered from on our first date.

Once again, I'm walking the streets of the Middle. The streets are full of people wandering from one place to another, but none of them even look at me, making me feel completely and entirely alone. I wish the streets were empty, that way I won't have to face the torture of hiding from all these witnesses, but the streets don't really empty until the later hours of the night. I'm not here with all these people, and I don't want to be. I want to be with Oliver. Taking him on a date to the 90's diner. Walking him through the streets, my hand in his and our arms brushing together occasionally. Him resting his head on my shoulder every now and again while he tells me about his day, how his Dad is and how horrible his maths teacher is. Talking back and forth about anything that takes our interest and ignoring the judgmental glares we get. Watching him as he takes in the world is one of the luxuries of being next to him. But I'm not, and he's gone.