Don't Touch

First Impressions

"Hey kid, kid wake up." Greg heard a voice say as someone started shaking his shoulder. Greg opened his eyes slowly as he looked up at the bus driver, thankfully only touching his shoulder and not his face. "Last stop kid, gotta get off now."

"Where are we," Greg asked drowsily as he begin rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"We're just out side of Manhattan." The driver said getting up to his full height. "And if I were you I'd try to find a place to stay before it gets dark."

Greg let out a yawn and agreed. He waited until the driver went back up to the front of the bus before he got up. Drawing his black hoodie over his shoulders he grabbed his duffle bag and walked up towards the front of the bus. The driver was still in his seat, obviously waiting for him to get off before exiting himself.

Greg didn't argue or try to pursuade the driver to let him stay on the bus. With a deep breath Greg went down the stairs and stepped outside to see that they were in front of a Shell Gas Station. Looking around Greg couldn't see anyplace that even remotely looked like a place to stay. Sighing he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked inside the gas station to ask for directions.

Inside the station Greg saw a young looking girl working the cash register. She looked nice enough with her chocolaty-brown hair and her light brown eyes that spoke of nothing but laughter. She was watching a small little television that was sitting on the counter beside her. Despite how nice she looked it wasn't her that got Greg's attention. It was the smell of hot food that made him stop dead in his tracks.

He'd left home four days ago, and he's been living on nothing but a few sticks of beef jerky that he brought with him. The smell of the hot concession stand food made his stomach growl loudly. Doing his best to ignore his stomach Greg walked over to the cashier, he rang the bell and she nearly jumped at the sound.

"Oh, sorry about that," she said with a brush of her hair. "What can I do for you?"

"Um where's the nearest mote-" Greg began but was cut off as his stomach growled. He put his hand on it and tightened his gut in an attempt to quiet it down. But the chuckle from the cashier let him know that it was louder than he thought. "Can you tell me where the nearest motel is from here, uh- Kathy."

"Well Greg," Kathy said with a playful smile on her face, after she saw his name tag strapped to his bag. "The nearest one would be the Gracie Inn."

"Okay can you write down how I could get there?"

"Uh yeah sure," Kathy said taking out a pen before she paused and tapped the counter. "You know what, I'm off in about 10 minutes. I can show you around a little if you want."

Greg bit his lip and looked outside at the pouring rain. With a sigh he looked up at Kathy. "Sure thing." He said with a forced smile. "Where can I wait?"

Kathy pointed over to a small cafe style table near the front of the store. "Just wait there for a bit and hopefully that rain'll let up a bit."

Greg nodded before walking over to the table. Shrugging off his dufflebag he sat down and stared out the window at the rain. Greg felt his stomach growl again, and with a groan he pulled out his last little chunk of jerky. Feeling like he was going to regret it later, Greg took a bite out of the dried meat and slowly began chewing.

After a few minutes of just gazing out the window, Greg found his thoughts wandering to his parents and his little brother Timmy. Was his mom scared, did she call the police? Were they out looking for him right now? What about Timmy? Was he freaking out now not being able to barge into Greg's room and see him? 

A tray was set down in front of Greg, instantly snapping him from his train of thought. Looking down at the tray he saw a basket of nachos, a tall cup of soda,  and a steaming slice of pizza. The smell of the pizza immediately made his mouth water, and his stomach growled loudly. Looking up he saw Kathy smiling down at him.