Leave Me [h.s] (On hold)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Just listen

I took a long drag on the cigarette that was balanced between my fingers. I sat behind the huge, crumbling, barn that I had become so accustomed to working in. I always smoked here, not because it was like a great hiding spot or whatever, but because I could see and hear the river from here. I was almost absolutely sure that Marion and Wes, who were my foster parents, knew that I smoked out here. Either they didn't care or they were scared to face me about it. Either way I didn't care.

As long as they stayed out of my way and kept the questions to a minimum, I was content to stay on this shabby ranch. It was a good home for someone with nowhere to be and no one to see I guess.

"Noelle, you got an extra?" Gregg said, sitting down next to me.

"Yes." I told my foster brother. I liked him well enough. Both of Gregg's parents died of a heroin overdose 3 years back. We had something in common, we were basically orphans. But we weren't orphans exactly, because we had each other at least. I think you technically stop being considered and orphan once you're grown up and no longer cute and vulnerable.

"Can I have it?" He asked me, rolling his eyes at me.

"What are you going to give me in return?"

"Isn't me being here with you payment enough? It's not like you have many options in friends here in hell." He said, flashing a smirk on his face.

"As true as that may be, I don't consider you a friend. Just a fellow reject." I told him, glancing over at him. I smiled slightly then handed him the last cigarette out of my pack.

"How generous. The last one." He said, pulling a lighter out if his coat pocket. I suppose he could have been hot, I mean before his parents died he probably had a lot going for him. Now he looked like absolute hell. Overgrown black hair, an unexplained black eye, and shabby, torn clothes. Our foster patents certainly provided us with enough clothes, but Gregg wore the same thing every day. The very idea of seeing him in something other than his torn, acid washed jeans, and his ratty grey shirt actually frightened me. I fear he wouldn't even look like himself.

"Yeah. Don't get used to generosity. It's a very dangerous business." I smirked and flicked my cigarette butt into the long grass just to the right of me. Don't worry, I made sure to put it out first.

"Oh never." He grinned evilly. I loved when he did that. It's what gave me the impression that he had been hot in a previous life.

"Well. I got work to do. Catch you later." I told him, standing up and walking away without waiting for his repose. I walked around the barn and across the field to the house. I would hardly consider it a house though. It looked more like an oversized shack to me. But you'd never hear me say that to Marion and Wes. They loved the damn place more than they loved each other sometimes.

"Noelle, the bathroom upstairs needs cleaning. You think you can handle that?" Wes said sternly right when I opened the front door.

"Sure thing Wes. You can always rely on me remember?" I said, digging around under the kitchen sink for the bleach and a towel.

"I'll believe that once you give me a reason to rely on you." Wes said, flashing his extremely western smile at me. Wes had probably also been hot. 40 years ago. He was 62 now, his hair silver and his hairline quickly receding. But not a lot of people knew about that, since you nearly never saw him without his trademark cowboy hat. He always wore a maroon cowboy hat. I personally despised the color.

"I do my best." I said sarcastically and climbed up the cherry colored stairs. What a damn lie. I barely do half the work I'm supposed to do around here. But hey, half is better than none right?