Gypsy

Chapter 10

·Zara·

I wake up tired the next morning, and still slightly confused by yesterday. I sit up on my pallet and stretch, then look over at my friends; both Maddox and Andre are still sleeping, and I decide that this time I will let them be. After yesterday, I'm having doubts about whether I actually need their accompaniment to and from the park. The red giant had seemed to be genuinely trying to be friendly, and though his behavior previously has been beyond creepy, the way he'd acted yesterday had been almost ... nice.

I frown at that. From the moment he first laid eyes on me in the courthouse he's been nothing but condescending. But then again, I haven't been much better. I grimace at the memory of that first encounter. Ever since then I've mentally labeled him "Ginger", knowing good and well he hates it. At first I'd been slightly amused by the way his face went red when I said it, but now? Not so much.

On Wednesday he had actually tried to tell me his name, but I had stubbornly refused to listen to anything he had to say, with what I'd felt at the time was good reason. I still don't know if I want to know it, or if I want him to know mine. All he knows me by is Gypsy. How, I can't even begin to guess, but I definitely don't want him calling me that.

Only three people--two people, I remind myself. My eyes burn with the reminder of our loss. Only two people are allowed to call me that, because only those two know how close I hold it to my heart.

I introduce myself to my street-side audiences as Gypsy, but that's different. That had been at Andre's insistence. He'd thought it would be a good stage name for me, if I were to ever be discovered, and in turn I humor him. But none of those people are likely to ever remember me, so that doesn't really matter. I know that I only have two days left to endure my punishment--which come with him as a bonus, good or bad--but I feel like I should have some name to call him by, and he the same for me.

I run a hand over my rumpled clothes, then try to comb the tangles out of my hair with my fingers, as think about the white flag he'd waved yesterday. With an amused smile, I pull off my sock and unfold my small stash. I pull out a few ones, then fold everything but them back up and hide it all again with my sock, then my boot. 

I sling my guitar over my back as I stand. I quietly slip from our corner, down the length of the warehouse basement, then out the door that leads up and back outside.

As I ease out of the warehouse, I make a quick inspection of the surrounding area before making my hurried way through and then out of Southside. It doesn't do to linger long on these streets, not even for a longtime resident like myself. I scramble over the chain link fence then drop over to the other side and start my daily trek north. At the end of the street, I see a familiar vehicle parked by the side of the road and I frown at it. 

I'm beginning to rethink my rethinking. As I come closer, I watch the passenger side window slowly roll down. I clench the rumpled bills in my hand a bit tighter then slow my steps as I come up alongside his truck. I look inside to find him sitting steadfast behind the wheel, looking ahead at the road. I clear my throat to get his attention and watch as he slowly turns his head to look at me.

There is uncertainty in his gaze and I wonder briefly at it before he speaks.

"I swear I'm not stalking you," he says, his neck and ears growing the bright pink of grapefruit flesh. 

I bite back a laugh and focus on keeping my face neutral. "Then why are you here? Again?"

He points at the cup holder in his console, where a cell phone sits upended.

"Got the call just a little while ago--work's been canceled for today. They didn't give any details, other than that we'll be making it up next week. Just thought I'd let you know, in case you didn't already. It'd be a long walk across town for nothing."