Chapter One

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LOVE FROM THE STREETS

Chapter One

I sit down under a tree, the branches and leaves not doing at all a very good job at protecting me from the pouring white rain. I hold my stomach that has been empty for the last five days. Why did the stores have to suddenly all close now? I don't have money, I don't buy food. I steal it, and swiftly. It doesn't feel good until I eat it. A nineteen year old homeless girl in LA needs to eat though, right?

My stomach roars at me, and again, and again. I slowly shift my head to the right I'm looking across the street. The only place that's open today is that café, and I don't expect to be able to steal anything from there if all the food is behind glass. I groan in pain from the tightening in my empty stomach. I let tears roll down my cheeks. I squint through the white pouring rain at the café, knowing that no one who works there will be kind enough to bring me a free apple, or tart, or pastry, or even some bread.

"You'll die within at most a day..." I tell myself. "You need food." I squint at the café again, watching the crowd of people hustling and pushing each other in, out, around, and inside the place. I see a man run out with a paper bag, and I think a magazine over his head. He runs over to a car, and is about to open its door when he looks at me. All I expect now is some rude comment for me to get up, and get a life, or to get out of here. That's what I've been getting whenever someone sees me and feels like saying something to me.

"Do you need help?!" he yells across the street.

I just look at him, sad, hungry, and depressed. I get soaked even more in my tank top, jeans, and hardly fitting shoes. My dad stole them, for me. However he managed to do that... I don't have him anymore, though. Or my mom. Or sister. Or anyone. At all.

The man runs across the street, and over to me. He squats in front of me, getting soaked himself. He's kind of cute, but who cares? I'm dying either tomorrow or before. "You need help?" he asks me again.

I still don't answer.

"Here." He pulls out a muffin, I think blueberry. "You seem hungry."

"I'm not hungry." I say. Lie. I groan in pain again, and he grows a sad face. "I'm really not-," my stomach roars again.

"I even heard that," the guy says. "Come on. Its freezing out here, I'll take you to my house." He takes off his leathery jacket, and puts it around me.

"No. That's okay." I give him back his jacket, and the muffin. "I don't need it..."

"Yeah, you do it. You're hungry, it's freezing-."

"I'm not hungry or cold. Just ... I don't know..."

"No. Come on." He puts the jacket on me, and makes me stand up. "I'll drive us to my house." He leads me across the street, and into his car.

It only takes about ten minutes to get to his house. It's huge. Bigger than any kind of house I could imagine. "Is this it..?" I ask amazed.

"Ha. Yep. Let's get in before we get even more soaked." The man, who introduced himself as Josh, runs me inside, but I'm not very fast considering my condition. When we walk in, I see a huge living area. Huge couch, huge television, etc. "Sit on the couch. I'll get you a blanket."

I walk over to the couch, and get it soaked from my clothes. After a minute or so, Josh comes back with a nice blue-ish blanket with little strands of yarn coming out the shorter sides. He wraps it around me, and I hold it in place.

"Do you like hot chocolate?" he asks me.

"I don't know. I don't think I've ever had it..."

"You'll like it. One second." Josh walks away into I'm guessing his kitchen. I look around the room, and see the white walls that surround me, the big TV sitting in front of me, the wide couch that I am sitting upon.

Should I trust this guy? He seems genuinely nice... I don't know. He could be faking. Who knows though? He does. I don't.

Josh comes back with the hot chocolate, and hands to me as he warns "Careful. It's hot."

I wrap my fingers around the glassy red mug that has text on it saying: Keep Calm and Carry On. I don't know, or care, what that means. I look down into the mug, watching the whipped cream and marsh mellows dancing around the top of the light brown steaming liquid. It smells really good, even if it's a faint smell.

"You like cookies?" Josh asks.

I only remember having a cookie once, and that was years ago. That was too long ago for me to remember how it tasted, and if I remembered. I decide to nod my head, and say "I guess so."

"What kind do you like? I have chocolate chip."

"Umm... Sure. I guess I'll have that."

Josh leaves again, and comes back half a minute later with a pack of "Captain Crunch" cookies. He takes one of the cookies, and dips it in his hot chocolate, and taking a bite after. If he wanted to poison me, it's obviously not in the cookies. Though I doubt he's want to...

"Take a cookie. They're good." Josh tells me.

I sigh, and put the hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of me. I wrap the blanket tighter around me, and hug my knees. "Josh..." I say kind of unsure, or nervous. "Why are you helping me?"

Josh chuckles a little, but I stay silent. He puts the mug and cookie down on the table, and leans his left side of his body on the back of the couch, facing me. "You looked like you were in pain for one thing. For another, you looked depressed. I really felt like I should help." Josh scoots over to me, making sure his hip was touching mine now. He puts and arm around me too, and looks in my eyes. "No one should be like that."

"Oh..." I say. "Thanks."

"So you don't have anywhere to stay?" he asks.

"Unless you count a rat infested alley, or a tree that could fall on top of me, no. Why?"

"I'm willing to give you a spare room here. I'd be more than happy to."

"That's fine. You don't need to, Josh." I object.

"No. You can't go sleep out there! It's dangerous. There's too much rain."

To be honest, I'd be the happiest person ever to get to sleep here, or anywhere. I still don't know if I can trust Josh though. Should I use this chance to see if I can? Ask him? Why not? "Can I trust you?" I ask.

"Of course." Then Josh does something too unexpected to be real...

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