•Running Forever•

Chapter 3. Third Step.

He told me that I could call him Char though, since Charles sounded too preppy or something like that.

Maybe he thinks Charles is a name belonging to a king.

I think I would have liked a name like that, instead of Harley. I don't even think that's a girl name...

"So do you live around here..?" 

The space between us had been filled with idle chat.

Char had lots of questions. My answers were always monosyllabic.

"No." I should really be getting back to my truck.

I should really be moving again, leaving here and going far away.

But right now, as we walked along the snowy streets in drenched clothes, our shoulders occasionally brushed and I found myself happy.

"What are you doing here?" His words were warm enough, but a chill rattled in my ribcage.

My footsteps stopped. He did too, looking back at me quizzically.

"Why does it matter?" I asked with narrowed eyes.

He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged.

"It doesn't, I guess. Harley...? You're shivering. You need to get out of those wet clothes."

I don't have any other ones. My face must have shown my anxiety; he stepped towards me, hesitated, he was having an inner battle with himself. Looks like the nice guy in him won.

"You should..we should go to my place."

Normally I wouldn't accept invitations from random strangers, but he did present a good point.  I didn't want to freeze in these clothes, the truck didn't belong to me so I could just leave it behind. I'd find another one later. 

"So how long have you lived here?" I wasn't one to start conversations, but I knew if I didn't he'd just keep asking more questions about me. I was heading down some random street, with this random guy, in this random place. I needed to come up with a back story, who I was and how I got here. Part of me always wanted to tell the truth. I was afraid. 

"As long as I can remember, I guess.  All of my family lives here. Even when I moved out, I still live nearby." He chortled. "I guess I'm just a home-body." 

Where was my home? I didn't find the joke funny.

My stomach tightened as I wheezed out a laugh.  "H-How old are you?" 

"Nineteen. I've lived alone for only six months though."

We stopped at a crosswalk.

He thumbed the buttom repeatedly.

I gave him the youonlyhavetopressitonce look.

There weren't any cars coming, I don't see why the damn thing wasn't letting us cross. 

"Guh.." I scowled, exasperated of this waiting, I marched across the street.

I must have seemed like quite a rebel to Char, I mean crossing the road when the red hand is telling you it isn't safe, that shiz is hardcore. 

"Harley! What are you doing? You can't cross. Harley NOOOOOO!" 

He was way too dramatic. I stopped, safely on the other-side I turned to stare back at him. 

"Shut up." I ordered bluntly. I was trying to be serious, but my twitching lips were threatening a smile. 

"You're so badass, Harley." He seemed upset, like he shouldn't be hanging around such a bad influence. I shouldn't be hanging around him either.

I should be running, why was I still here?

Char playfully tousled my wet hair when he arrived beside me. I glanced up. The red hand was replaced with the white man walking, tell people it was cool to cross. Still no cars in sight. 

"Come on, my apartment is this way." Charles skipped off in a new direction, the buildings had turned from stores to townhouses. Lawns were populated with poorly sculpted snowmen. 

I didn't move, and stared after him with anxious eyes.

It would be so easy now, go home with him, get warm.

He was so nice, so helpful. It would be easy to get attached, to want to stay. 

"You coming?" He picked up some snow off the ground, packed it into a ball, then threw it up and down in his hands.

My eyes followed it. 

"Char. I don't know if I can.."