LOOSE ➶ « l.s. »

46: BROKE

« LOUIS »

I couldn't afford to go anywhere far, though I knew if I stood by highways long enough that I'd be able to get to where I had wanted to go. I've been told that Los Angeles is a second chance, that just being in its presence instantly makes you rediscover who you truly are. I wanted to go to Los Angeles. I was to go and rehabilitate myself—learn how to handle myself without destroying myself.

I took a journal with me to record my journey, and just how much of a way I was to go.

✽

6 April, 1958 – Sunday

I wanted Apollo's to be my last breakfast in San Francisco until I came back, which I knew I would. Willa served me—ham and cheese omelet with warm tea since I hated the taste of coffee. I took my time eating, knowing no one else would be awake so early in the morning. When I left the diner, the first car I ran into saw me walking down the main road, and asked where I was going. I told him I wished to go south, to which he agreed to take me until the San Francisco hills ended.

The man was old, and seemed to care more about me than where I was going. He asked me how old I was, where I was from, and if I had a girlfriend: I was nineteen, from England, and didn't have a girlfriend.

He dropped me off where he had promised, leaving me to walk down the main road some more before I held a hand out for another car willing to take me where I had wanted to go. Eventually, another man picked me up. He asked for something in return, and I gave him not even a quarter of my money, insisting it was all I had. He drove me what he thought was enough for the amount I gave him, then let me get off at a small roadside restaurant. I was starving, but I hadn't wanted to spend more of the little money I had left.

I asked for a glass of water, and a pack of their cheapest cigarettes, then went off to find another ride. This time it was a guy around my age, and he insisted on remaining silent for the rest of the ride. He dropped us off at a motel, and said to find someone else for a ride in the morning. After renting a room for the night, I sit in a bed that creaks more that the floorboards, and write of my day.

Tomorrow I plan to make it to Los Angeles, no matter how long and how many rides it takes me. I don't quite know what I'll do once I'm there, but I know once I leave I wish to be a new person.

: : :

« HARRY »

I expected Louis to be at school the following week, but when I didn't see him anywhere I began to think he was avoiding me. Asking Li and Zee where he was didn't help since neither of them knew a thing. After school I found myself driving to Louis's old neighbourhood, and knocking on his door.

Louis's mother answered, making me relax all the more since I had feared that his father would be the one to open the door. She gave me a small smile, remembering who I was, "Harry" she breathed out softly.

"It's lovely to see you, Mrs. Tomlinson" I said to her in my most mannered tone.

"W–What can I do for you?" she asked, confused as to why I had appeared.

"I was wondering if Louis was here" I said to her, her features instantly tensing up, "See, he wasn't at school, and I haven't seen him around anywhere"

"Louis hasn't been here in months–" she said to me, making my heart drop, "–and I can't think of anywhere else he'd be if you can't find him"

I stared at my palms with my eyebrows furrowed, giving her a small nod as I thanked her, and walked down the pavement to get to my car. Sitting in the silence of the vehicle, my hands gripped onto the wheel. I was afraid of what had happened to him, and I feared the worst. There was a possibility that something was terribly wrong, and I was the only one who cared enough to notice.