The Price of Falling

Chapter 7

Conner jogged ahead of me to open the passenger door for me. "Thanks," I mumbled, not looking up at him. He shut the door and walked over to the driver's side to get in.

"Where do you live again?" He asked me.

"Over on Spokane Avenue, near South Chestnut Street," I told him. "It's only like a five minute drive." I wished I didn't sound so nervous. He was only giving me a ride home. I can't believe Molly got me to ride home with Conner.

"Cool. Do you mind if we make a stop first?" He asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and said, "It's your car. Do what you gotta do."

I tapped my fingers on the takeout box I had gotten for my food as Conner made a turn onto a street I didn't recognize. I saw a man sitting on the corner wearing a jacket that had gaping holes in it. He had a sign that said he was homeless. "Stop the car," I said immediately.

"What?" Conner asked, puzzled.

"Pull over. I need to do something," I said louder.

"What's wrong? I just--"

"Conner, stop the car. It'll only take a second. Please?" I pleaded with him. He pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park. I got out, my box of leftovers in my hand, and walked back to where the man was sitting. I heard Conner's door open behind me. I leaned down and placed the box of food beside the man.

He looked up at me and smiled a dirty smile. His teeth were yellow, but they looked clean in contrast to the matted hair on his face. "Thank you so much, miss. I really appreciate it," he sounded so grateful, and I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I hope you enjoy it," I said to him. I waved at the man, turned, and walked back to Conner's car. He was standing at his door, and the look on his face resembled amazement.

"What?" I asked him, as he stared at me. I opened the passenger door and sat down in my seat. Conner got back in the car and just sat, staring at me for a moment.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, his amazement bleeding over into his voice.

"I'm sure he was hungry, and I had already eaten," I responded. It seemed simple to me. I had a refrigerator full of food at home, and only took the to-go box to avoid being wasteful.

Conner shook his head, gave me a surprised half-smile, and put the car in drive. "You amaze me Griffin Smithey."

"We agreed that you wouldn't call me Griffin anymore," I glared at him as he looked at the road ahead.

"Sorry. Ruthie. Why do you hate your name so much?"

"I don't know. I'm already not the most feminine person in the world. My name just kind of adds to that. At least my middle name gives the illusion that I'm feminine," I admitted to him.

"Okay, let me say something," he started. "First of all, who told you you weren't feminine?" He looked me up and down as if this would somehow prove his point. It sounded like he was starting a rant. "Second of all, what the hell does a name have to do with femininity? Third of all, Griffin is a strong name. It suits you. You're strong. Own it."

Was Conner Price paying me a compliment? Was that what it was? I could feel my eyebrows knitting together as I looked at this guy that was totally unpredictable. "Thanks, I guess?" I said, not sure what else I should say. The car came to a stop as Conner pulled off to the side of the road in front of a house. A sketchy looking house in a sketchy looking neighborhood. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere important. I just have to run to the door really quick. Wait here," He said authoritatively. I nodded and he stepped out of the car. He walked up to the front door of the house and knocked. His answer about where we were had been cryptic, and I had a bad feeling in my gut about being here. A girl, older than us, answered the door. She was wearing a black tank top and gray soffe shorts. She looked like she might be in college, but something about her face seemed much older. She looked tired and there was no light in her eyes. She spoke to Conner for a second before looking behind her shoulder and speaking to someone inside. The guy from prom -- John, I think his name was -- came to the door and shook Conner's hand. Immediately after they shook hands, Conner stuck his in his pocket. John looked past Conner's shoulder and towards the car, right at me. His mouth turned up into a grin that would make a pedophile blush and I shuddered. He waved at me, and I looked away.