I smiled at the bustling sound of a city. I heard it last night but disregarded it. There was something else on my mind. I sighed. Europe. Home.
I walked through the city on my own. It was bright and full of character. The suburbs in New York were weird. Thankfully, I was in a good part of town. The really good part of town. Bel, how did you afford this?
In all my enjoyment, I forgot about Preston and Ace. They still would know that I boned, but they were probably worried. I searched for a place that offered international calls. I found it in a seedy convenience store.
"Hello," I greeted the clerk.
"Tourist? Call to Spain?" He had a heavy Cockney accent.
"No. Lo siento. United States," I replied.
"Family there?" He handed me a card.
"Si. My father. And friends. Gracias." I took the card and paid him.
I walked to the phone booth and sat down. Terribly uncomfortable. I was too tall for that. I dialed Ace's number.
"Dude. Where Are You?" He answered in a demanding tone.
"London." I answered.
"He left you in London? Do you have money? Fuck man. I can send some over," he replied.
"Well, he's doing his job. He, uh, let me go," I said. A blatant lie.
I could sense Ace breaking down my words. He always could tell a lie.
YOU ARE READING
The Dumpster
DiversosThis is where I'll dump my crap and half-baked ideas. If it's gay I'll put a warning in the title. These may never be returned to ever. There's also swearing.
