The Truth

Chapter 9

-Cindy-

     A few hours later, I lay awake and think about Jack's reaction to my concerns. His face was contorted with anger but there was another, even deeper emotion that I couldn't place. After another hour of thinking of what if could be, I decide to just go and talk to him. Walking outside with bare feet, mud squishes in between my toes and sticks to the souls. I grit my teeth. I've never been so uncomfortable in my life and I hate being dirty. I see Jack lying on a slab of concrete in the alley between the next house and the one we're occupying. I sit across from him, leaning against the building.

     "Jack." I say, loud enough to startle him awake. He looks around in alarm, and finally sees me.

     "Cindy, are you okay? Is everything alright?" he asks, looking around again.

     "Everything's fine. I...I actually just wanted to talk to you about something." I say, hugging my knees. A bit of his previous anger has returned and he looks away from me. 

     "What is it?" he sounds tired, but not sleepy tired. More like tired of me.

     "What happened this afternoon? Why did you get so angry when I talked about the gross homeless people?" I ask. He scowls at me. "It's almost like I offended you." 

     "You did." he snaps.

     "You you mind explaining to me why you got so worked up?" 

     "Yes, actually, I would mind. It's none of your business" I look at him, stunned. No one's ever spoken to me like that before, and I don't even know what I did wrong. 

     "You should probably work on that temper." I say angrily. He sniffs and looks away.

     "Why should I tell you anything after the way you've let Blake treat me all day?" he points out. I think about that and realize he's right, so I just shrug. He sighs and I can tell that his desperation for company is overruling the need to conceal his emotions. I sit back and don't pressure him. Finally, he looks at me and I can see I've broken down his walls.

-Jack-

     I look at her. I have been for the last five minutes. I don't understand why it's so tempting for me to tell her about myself. I don't want her to see me as helpless or for her to feel bad for me, but I've never had the opportunity to open up to anyone before. I sigh again. I can tell she's getting impatient  but instead of annoying me, it encourages me to speak. As I open my mouth, I feel the walls I've spent so much time building crumble down and a wave of emotion hits me as if it's just now sinking in what's happened to me. I cover my mouth to hold in sobs and try not to cry, although it Cindy wasn't here I'd be crying like a baby. Pull it together, Jack. What are you, five? I tell myself and take two deep breaths before I begin.

     "I was offended by your comment about the homeless." I say, and put my hands under my legs to keep them from shaking. "I've been homeless since I was ten, and I've been living here, in this little community." As I say it, I suddenly get the same feeling I used to get when I was about to be hit, like I had to protect myself. I recoil by instinct, but she doesn't move. Her face shows no emotion, though I would bet anything she has a million questions on her mind.

     "What happened to you?" She whispers and I scowl. "Sorry, continue." she says hastily but I shake my head. Her curiosity isn't what bothers me. It's the pity in her voice. When people pity you it makes you look weak, like a kicked puppy.

     "It's alright." I respond, because I don't want to push her away. Now that I've started, I don't want to have to stop. "What you said earlier, about working on my anger issues...well I get that from my parents." I mumble the last part.