Cry Wolf

Chapter Twenty-One - The Date

The Date

Christopher's POV

Stretching the kinks out of my back I let out a loud yawn. Picking up the two trays filled with round globs of dough I set them aside and look for my boss. I find him at the front of the bakery, his white puffy hair just visible over the top of the counter.

"The bagel dough for tomorrow is all set, Mr. Romano."

Standing up he gives me a wide smile, his heavily wrinkled face crinkling around the edges. "Excellent! Good work, son."

I smile, wiping clumpy dough off my hands. I'm covered in flour and I smell like bread. Not that I'm complaining. I love this job and who doesn't love the smell of baking bread?

Pressing his hands against his back, Mr. Romano hobbles over to me. He's in his early eighties, with a hunched back and bad knees. He shakes so bad it often causes him to fall over and I worry that this may be one of those times when he looks at risk of toppling sideways.

I rush to meet him, gripping his arm to stabilize him. "Let me help you."

He rolls eyes, shooing me away. "I'm fine. I'm fine." He gives me a critical look. "Nothing but meat and bones." Nodding towards the muffin shelf he adds, "Take those muffins home. They'll be stale by tomorrow."

Bemused, I roll my own eyes with a smirk. I know there's no point in arguing and honestly, food from the bakery was often the only thing I had to eat at home. "Okay."

I collect my muffins into a paper bag and slip on my jacket. Outside, I help Mr. Romano lock up, his hand too shaky to use the key.

Looking around he frowns. "You have a ride?"

"My dad's coming." I hope...

He grumbles something under his breath that sounds like 'damn drunk'. He doesn't care for my father and doesn't bother trying to hide it.

"I'll be fine," I reassure him.

"If you say so," he sighs. I watch him get in his car and leave, wincing at how slow he drives. I just hope he doesn't get into an accident.

Watching until he's out of sight I sit on a bench and wait. And wait. And wait some more. It isn't long before my fingers start to go numb.

It's so damn cold!

I huddle in on myself, the cold penetrating the thin layers of my jacket. I'm in desperate need of a new one but I can't afford it. Every dime I make goes towards bills or my father's liquor.

Glancing at my cell I sigh. It's seven-thirty and I've been waiting for nearly an hour now. My dad's not coming. No doubt he's already passed out on the couch. Another night of walking home. It'll take me hours.

My teeth start to chatter. I stare at my phone again, worrying my bottom lip. Maybe I can get a ride?

Bringing up the contact list my thumb hovers over the only number there. Nervous butterflies collide in my stomach. I haven't spoken to Roland since that night.

A hot blush heats my cheeks at the memory. I can't stop thinking about him. I even dream of him. It's as if he's haunting me. I want to see him again so badly. Just a glimpse.

"Arg!" I groan. I have to stop thinking this way! I'm obsessed. I know it's pathetic of me. Roland is way out of my league. What would he ever want with me? I'm awkward. Poor. Dressed in dirty clothes and begging for scraps. Not to mention he's a grown man and I'm barely into adulthood.

Compared to Roland I'm nothing...a waste of space.

My thoughts leave a painful ache in my chest. I wish I was someone else. Someone better. Someone more deserving.