Bad Reputation||Brooklyn Winston

Chapter 3

It took my brother two days to get to New York. I spent those two days stuck in a homeless shelter. I don't think I slept at all during those two days. Aside from the fact that I was worrying about my dad, and worrying about what living with Dallas was going to be like, some of the people in the homeless shelter were just plain crazy. In the sleeping room, the guy whose cot was next to mine kept talking to himself, picking at his skin, and eating it. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

On the third day after the fire, I had barely woken up when a woman came into the sleeping room looking for me.

"Is there a Brooklyn Winston in here?" She called.

I stood up so fast that I got dizzy. "Right here!" I answered.

"There's someone here to see you." The woman said.

I rushed to follow her out the doors. As she lead me down the hallway I asked, "Is it my brother, Dallas? Am I getting out of here?"

"I didn't ask."

"Oh." I didn't say anything else. The lady didn't seem like she was one for conversation.

At the front of the building was a lobby. There was a tv in there, so that the people at the shelter could watch tv. Dallas was sitting there, watching I Love Lucy. He looked different than he had when I last saw him, but I still recognized him right away.

"Dallas! Boy, am I glad to see you!" I cried, rushing to hug him. I really was glad to see him. It was funny, because the only time he had ever made me glad before that was when he left New York.

He hugged me back as he said, "Hey, Brooklyn. Ready to get out of here?"

I nodded. "You have no idea."

The adoption process went smoothly. Dallas showed the cops his fake I.D. and signed a few papers. Then we were off. I had asked if I could go say goodbye to my friends and Tommy, but Dallas said that it would take too much time.

We had been on the road for awhile before I asked, "Dallas, you enrolled me in a high school, right?"

"No, I enrolled you in junior high. I thought that you were only fourteen. And by the way, stop calling me Dallas all the time. People usually call me Dally."

"Dally." I said. "I can get used to that. And I am fourteen, but I skipped first grade. Remember? So I'm in ninth grade, even though I should be in eighth."

"I'll fix that once we get back to Tulsa."

"Tulsa? We're going to Tulsa? In Oklahoma? Aren't there tornadoes there?"

"Sometimes."

"I can't live in a place where there's tornadoes." I cried.

"Well you're going to. Don't worry, they don't happen very often."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't believe I hadn't even asked where my brother lived.

Somewhere in Ohio, we stopped for lunch.

"So do you live in an apartment or a house?" I asked while we were waiting for our food.

"I don't really live in either. I live in a room at my friend's place. His name is Buck, and I want you to stay away from him."

"Why?"

"He's trouble."

"Ok. So we're living in like, one bedroom?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'll get you a cot or something."

I shook my head. "No way. I just spent two nights sleeping on a cot and I never want to do it again. Besides, I'm a girl. I should get the bed."

Dally looked at me. I stared right back. I'm pretty sure he was trying to intimidate me, but that wasn't going to work anymore. I wasn't the same little kid I used to be.

After a moment, he sighed. "Alright, fine. You get the bed."

I grinned. "Great." Just then, our food came. I took off my white gloves and put them in my lap. "Don't want to get these dirty." I muttered.

"So why are you dressed like that anyway?" Dally asked.

I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a black dress with a pearl necklace. I was also wearing round sunglasses and my hair was pulled up. "It's what I was wearing the night dad died."

"Why haven't you changed?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you think? All of my other clothes were burned in the fire."

"Oh yeah, that must suck." Dally paused before asking, "So you're sure Dad is dead?"

I leaned forward, looking my brother in the eye. "I saw him trapped in the apartment right before the building collapsed. He's dead."

Dally didn't say anything. Him and Dad had never gotten along. Then he said, "That outfit looks familiar. Where'd you get it?"

"I copied it from Audrey Hepburn's outfit in Breakfast at Tiffany's."

"Never heard of it."

I looked up from my burger. "You've never heard of Breakfast at Tiffany's?" I asked in disbelief. That movie was like my instructional video for life. And the book was like my bible.

He shook his head. "I'm not really into movies. If you like movies, you should talk to my friend Ponyboy. You'll probably meet him later. But I'm not really an Audrey Hepburn fan. I'm more of a Marilyn Monroe kind of guy."

I laughed. "You watch Marilyn Monroe movies?"

"I didn't say I watch her movies. I just think that she's hotter."

I didn't say anything. Like I suspected, my brother and I were worlds apart.