Chapter 1: People-Watching

 Red streaked across the sky in angry slashes. Little drops of envious pink seeped through. I couldn’t see any yellow, but the orange tried as hard as it could to break the continuity of the red, but it failed, pretty miserably.

   This is how I usually spend my mornings in the summer. I lay in my bed, bound in a thick quilt, and I just stare out of my window. I either people-watch, or I find solace in the sunrise. Sometimes I forget the television, so I’ll have a soundtrack of paid programming for my viewing. It’s quite relaxing. Every once in a while, my cat will find his was to my windowsill and fit his abnormally large haunches on it, and then my dear Sam will join watching with me. He’s usually calm, but occasionally believes my toes have ulterior motives and he must attack them to save me.

   But that’s just a regular morning. On the fifth day of summer, I woke up at six fourteen. My eyelids were glued together and my arm felt dead. I wiggled my fingers to get some feeling back to them. Outside, below the balcony of my apartment, I caught sight of a bald man and his wife, Dina, arguing in heated whispers. Pulling the blinds up just slightly, I saw more of the conversation.

   “I don’t know who she is.” I strained to hear the bald man, going to far as putting my ear just inches from the window. Sam stirred in his sleep at the end of my bed.

   Dina shook her head. “You goddamn liar.” She was shaking. Her hands were balled up into tight fists, and I could tell, as her knuckles were as white as snow. “You know exactly who ‘Morgan’ is!” She rolled her eyes. “It’s pathetic.” She pulled on her dark hair violently, pulling it into a hair tie. “Just find your goddamn spine and put it in a box with all the rest of your s**t.”

   The bald man growled something illegibly. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward him. “I don’t know who Morgan is. Stop being a b***h, Dina.” They both stared at each other incredulously; Dina was confused. How did he learn to talk to her like that? The bald man looked confused, too, because, honestly, he didn’t expect that to work. He started back again, “Dina, just believe me. We are perfect. Don’t ruin this because of some wrong number we got. Please, Dina.” His eyes watered. I could tell he was faking, though. They fought all the time. Dina, though, as thick as she was, actually believed him. They kissed, which I looked away from, and went back into the apartment below me.

   People-watching should be a competitive sport. I am the master. I’ve got the black belt in spying. I’ve never been caught. I’m just super great at it.

   My thoughts were interrupted as Sam walked up to me, waking up while I hadn’t paid attention, and shoved his peach-colored face into mine. I smirked, snaking my fingers up his fluffy sides. If he was a human, he’d be an awesome psychiatrist. Whenever I felt alone, scared, depressed- my little buddy was there.

   “Sammy boy,” I cooed. He squinted at me and turned his face away. His purr practically echoed through the room. He had a damn bulldozer in his throat. “Why are you so sweet today, hm? Are you on something? Dad doesn’t allow drugs in this household.” I grinned. In whatever sadistic part of me, I felt a satisfaction that he couldn’t speak back. He probably wouldn’t if he could, because I was the exact opposite of funny, but alas, he still couldn’t. He was like a diary that I threw the pages away from. He blinked and abruptly jumped off my bed. “Rude,” I muttered under my breath.

   A roar of a motorcycle broke into my lonely cat-woman antics. The motorcycle in the parking lot was bulky and black. The sound stopped and the person riding it put their familiar combat boot to the ground. Freddie pulled off his helmet, and scratched his long blonde hair. I smirked. He hadn’t styled his Mohawk yet, and at the moment, his hair looked like s**t. He looked up to my window and nodded. He mouthed something, but I couldn’t tell what he said.

   I stood up, rummaging through my dresser and throwing out my outfit for the day; dark-washed jeans, my red baseball shirt with the big 08 on the front, stained yellow converse, and, as always, my silver robot necklace. I’ve worn the robot necklace since my mom left. It’s a reminder that she gave this to me because she loved me. I know she did.

   Sneaking out of the apartment was going to be difficult. I crept out of my room and to the front door slowly. I unlocked the door and pulled it open. It made a super loud creaking noise. I froze cold. Wait. It was Saturday. Dad worked today, from five to five. I laughed at myself. Silly.

   Freddie was waiting for me beside his bike. He had a cigarette perched on his lips and I could tell he was playing with his lip ring with his teeth because it was wobbling. He dropped the smoke and crushed it with the heel of his boot. “Bo, you look good.” He hugged me when I came up to him, then he backed up and frowned, observing me carefully. “You do look different, though.”

   “It’s the hair,” I replied, running my fingers through the short bob. “I got it cut not too long ago. Long hair pisses me off.”

   Freddie smiled. “Understandable. Okay, then,” he sighed. “Back to business: do you want to come to the shop with me?”

   “Hell, no, Freddie, I just got out of bed at six in the morning and put on nice clothes to say hello to you.” We laughed. “Yes. I would like to come to the shop with you.”

   Freddie handed me his helmet and I climbed on the bike behind him. We weren’t dating. Yes, we had before, but now, we were just friends. He was the only boy I had ever dated, and the only boy I had ever seen naked. That was fine, though. He was also the only one that confirmed my suspicions. I’m a lesbian. Freddie is just my exceedingly-hetero best friend. I think he took it well, too, that I lost attraction to him. Maybe he still has a thing for me, but he knows it’s never going to happen again. I just don’t like him that way.

   I also don’t like his driving. Most who rode on the back of Freddie’s bike seem to be accustomed to his foot slammed on the gas, but me? It’s absolutely terrifying. He wove through lanes like there was no tomorrow. I bared my teeth and gripped his grey tweed jacket with my fingers. I felt like Dina. Did her knuckles hurt like mine did?

   After about twenty minutes, we arrived. He finally slowed, parking the bike in the back. He took his helmet in with us. It was his job to get the place open, so I adjusted the items on the shelves to look presentable. The shop was called Steve’s, who owned the place back in ’07, but quit once he found his place as some bigwig CEO for Burger King or something. When Freddie took ownership, he didn’t change the name. I asked him once, and he told me that the customers would get confused. Is it still a skate shop- or do you sell custard? So Freddie kept the name n sake of a few dull patrons.

   I eyed a cute wristband at the front. It had a smiley face on a bike. It wasn’t particularly my style, but I liked it. “Freddie,” I called. “When are we opening the doors?”

   For a while I didn’t get an answer, so I put the wristband on and looked at it. It totally clashed with everything ever. It wasn’t as cute when it was actually being worn. I put it back on the rack. “Freddie?”

   A small sound came from the back. I swallowed hard. “You better not be f*****g with me, Freddie, or I will kick your a*s so hard you’ll be spitting up toenails.” He didn’t make any noises. Usually a threat would at least warrant a laugh. I tiptoed to the back and saw Freddie, doubled over, holding his stomach. I thought maybe he had an upset stomach or something, but I saw some gross mix of clotted blood and mucus on the floor. He was gagging.

   I darted to him and held onto him. “What the hell? What’s wrong with you?”

   Freddie just shook his head. “I… I’m fine, Bo, really. I just-” He looked at the blood. I could’ve sworn a teardrop rolled off his cheek and into the puddle. “Bonnie, that’s blood, ain’t it?” He looked at me from the corners of his eyes. “I need to get to a hospital, but you, you need to stay here.” He stumbled to the doorway, but I took hold of his wrist and growled, “You are not going alone, Frederick Young.”

   He smirked. “You’re very stubborn, Bonnie Reilly.” He pulled his wrist away, and then he brushed the hair out of my face. “Hun, I need you to keep the store open.”

   “That’s the least important thing, goddamn it!” I shook my head and crossed my arms. Nah-uh. There was no way in hell I would stay and keep the store open.

 

“Hi, I’m Bonnie. Is there anything I can help you with today?” I plastered a fake smile on my face. The euphoria was just exhilarating. Ha. Ha. Ha ha. I am so damn funny. Freddie is such a dick for making me do this.

   I was helping two teenage boys, probably a year or so younger than me, both in beanies, the brunette in plaid and the redhead in a Nintendo tee. Nintendo brooded, trying to be sexy or something. It was a wee bit funny. I let him, just to humor myself.

   Nintendo nodded. “Yeah, you can. Do you have…” He bit his lip and continued, “Any gauges?”

   I lost the smile. My lips kept in a straight line. “Yes, we do. They’re in the Southern corner,” I pointed for them.

   Nintendo smirked. “I’ve never been here. I need a bit of help, really.” He leaned on the counter.

   Plaid looked so embarrassed. I felt bad for the kid. Okay, Bo, cool it down a little. “Kid, I’ve got work to do. I pointed for you. If you need more assistance, please ask one of the people walking around the store with their badge on a lanyard, hm? Thanks for visiting Steve’s.” I turned around and pretended to be digging through a drawer. It was only after a few minutes that I noticed that Plaid was still there. I stood back up. “Um, is there anything else?”

   He averted his eyes from mine. Now I felt like a raging b***h. He said in a soft, sweet voice, “I’m sorry about Jake, Bonnie. He’s a real jerk.” He found an interest in his arm at that moment, absentmindedly scratching it.

   “No, man, it’s fine. It’s cool. I get guys in here like that all the time- mostly for Stephanie, though.” I saw Stephanie and her hot pink hair, flirting wildly with Jake. At least she was straight.

   Plaid cleared his throat. “Well, I should get goin’, yeah?” He smiled lightly. “Goodbye, Bonnie.”

   I waved meekly as he walked off. You b***h. Then, Stephanie came up to the counter and winked at me. “That guy was hot. I don’t know why you were so crabby with him…” She broke off the sentence, covering her mouth. “I am so dumb. I’m sorry!” She frowned. “I didn’t think about what I was saying.”

   “Not finding a kid attractive is no warrant for being a b***h,” I replied, fiddling with my Batman lanyard. I made the conversation awkward. Good job. Good job, Bo.

   Stephanie noticed another customer and walked off. In her replacement, Christian, our intern of sorts, leaned on the counter. “Bo, do you know where, um,” He squinted, tapping his fingers on the counter, trying to remember what he wanted to say. During his thoughts I noticed that Christian looked different. He still had the blonde sweeping locks and the few lower facial piercings… it was the nails. He had his nails painted, all black except for the middle fingers. Those were red. They were cute. “The heat prevention! That’s what the girl said.” He smiled at me. “Somebody wants heat preventing products.”

   “The hell…?” I nodded once. “Ah, Christian, just check out and I’ll go help the cus.” He thanked me silently and I just gestured that it was okay. He was fifteen and only worked two or three hours a day. He was Steve’s nephew twice removed or something.  The kid was bearable, though, so I could care less if he was young and lacking experience.

   I pushed past some of the shelves, glancing at the gauges and smirking. Here they are, Nintendo. Oh and here’s my number, too. The tall tan girl was standing in front of the scarves, caressing her long white-blonde braid of hair with thin fingers. She wore a pink half-shirt and cutoff grey jean shorts. Heat prevention? Honey, actual clothes would be a start. She sighed softly and dropped her braid, brushing the bright red and orange dotted scarf hanging in front of her. “If only Nal could see this, he’d…” She didn’t finish her sentence. The girl just kept on feeling the fabric of the scarf. What was with her? It was absolutely atrocious.

   “Hey, you’re the one who asked about heat prevention, right?” I expected her to turn around and acknowledge me at the least, but she just stared at the scarf. “Ma’am?”

   “I changed my mind, Bonnie, but thank you very much,” she took the scarf off of the rack and put it around her neck. I shivered. How did she know my name? “How much is this?” She turned around and held out the scarf. Our eyes caught and I felt an even larger chill run down my sides, turning my lungs into little icicles. Her eyes gripped mine and tore them to bits. When I wasn’t looking at her spectacular sky blue eyes, I noticed her pleasantly plump ruby lips, a little button nose, and the cutest splotch of freckles on her cheeks that I’ve ever seen on a person. She grinned with a flawless smile. “I think I fell in love with it.”

   My fingers fumbled with the scarf, and I looked at the price tag. “This is seven dollars.” I swallowed hard. “You can buy it up at the counter.” I averted my eyes from hers. I didn’t want her to see how much I was blushing. Most girls found it creepy when I had a crush on them, so I hid it, as to be polite. I led her and the scarf to the register and rang it up. The drawer slid out and hit me in the stomach with a thud. I grunted in pain, squinting through tears and doubling over. “Goddamn it!” I spat, stomping my foot. “Christian, put in an order for this register to get fixed!” I could hear a faint whimper from the kid intern in the back.

   Heat Prevention blinked. “Are you okay there?”

   I looked up and I almost cursed aloud again. Heat Prevention wasn’t Heat Prevention. It was this girl with spiky black hair and chains and piercings… and not the blonde beauty that I had only spoken to moments before. She had dark eyes, an excess of smoky makeup, a beak of a nose… She wasn’t Heat Prevention, but at the same time, I knew she was. I was holding the scarf, red and orange, that she had picked out. The new girl stared at me, her hand on her hip. I was being too slow for her. Shape-shifting b***h… I faked a smile and rung up the hideous scarf. Soon after she paid, she looked at the navel piercings and left. That was a customer I was sure to never forget.

   The kid intern came up to me. He nodded to Heat Prevention, leaving the store. “Did she change clothes in the store or something?” He looked up as Freddie entered the shop. Freddie looked like absolute s**t. His face was flushed and he was visibly sweating. He was walking on a crutch. “What the hell happened to you?”

   Freddie hobbled over. “I swallowed blood in my sleep, and added with my allergies, I puked not only blood but… stuff.” He shivered. Obviously it was more disgusting that what he had already said. “And I fell down the stairs and sprained my ankle at the hospital.” He muttered something foul and caught my eye. We exchanged a sort of conversation. We set up a meeting. He left the store for ‘something in his bike’ and I waited a minute or so before I ‘realized that I dropped my favorite pen.’

   Freddie was leaning on the bike. “I promise you,” he rolled his eyes, prediction correctly what I was going to say, “that I did not drive the bike here. Okay?” His smile grew as I went to him. I stood before the motorcycle, observing it. It was a sleek Honda Crossover, but he had it mottled with silly bumper stickers. One had a zombie president on it and another was one that had something to do with hookers. I glanced at the boy. He wasn’t the same as his exterior tried to stereotype him. He loved Beethoven and dogs. He really liked dogs. Freddie once told me that when he was twelve he had a Labrador named Morgan. Morgan was the cutest chocolate Lab in the neighborhood. He couldn’t believe it when she was stolen. After nine months she was found wandering the streets, left behind by the people who had stolen her almost a year before. He cried and cried, but Freddie was dead set on getting this dog back. He went with his mother to capture Morgan, but she had been run over. Freddie’s mother didn’t cry a single tear, but he did. He cried for six hours straight. He hadn’t cried like that ever since. He stopped showing that kind of emotion. It was irrational, he said.

   “You better not have, or I won’t hesitate to threaten you with a beating that I won’t carry out.” I grinned and embraced him. “You have to stop spraining your ankle and puking blood, man. It’s gross.” I pulled away, looking into his dull eyes. “And I thought you looked terrible earlier.” His face was flushed.

   Freddie sighed. “Oh, thanks.” I let him gaze at me while I brushed his hair out of his face. “But really, thank you for taking over Steve’s for me. It’s super sweet.”

   “And you won’t be telling a single soul. No one needs to know that I’m actually willing to work.”

   He chuckled. “Stop messing with my ‘do.” He gently pushed my hand away from his “‘do.” “I won’t tell a soul; I don’t see why, though.”

   “Why what?” I backed up, positioning myself below him on the curb. The sun hit the back of his head and I squinted but I still hardly saw him.

   “I don’t see why you won’t just officially become an employee.”

   “My dearest father doesn’t approve of petty work.” Dad. His name was Richard Paul Reilly. He was born 1964. When my mom left, he became a better father than ever, but when my brother went missing, he lost his everything. I was never the favorite and I didn’t share such a profound with the Pops like Robert did. Dad and I never connected over anything. He disapproved of my entire ‘scene’ and I disapproved of his. He didn’t even know I wasn’t a virgin, let alone that it wasn’t even close to home. My life was basically a diary well kept away. He could never take a peek.

   “Your dad’s also an a*****e. Just join the squad, Bo, c’mon. Everyone here loves you.” Freddie was just plain lying here. Christian feared me. Stephanie found me strange. Spore, a twenty-nine year old part-time librarian who worked at Steve’s on the weekdays, most definitely thought I was mentally incapable. Freddie found me amusing. Was I some sort of protégé or just some b***h that was occasionally funny?

   I shrugged. “It’s cool, man, really. I shouldn’t hide so much from the old man anyways. I should tell him everything one night.” I smiled to myself. The idea of telling my dad that I was a lesbian was pretty goddamn hilarious.

   Freddie glanced at a Volvo that pulled up. It was loud with music from some s****y boy band that was completely irrelevant. A girl climbed out of the front seat. She had orange hair down to her hips, but she teased it to look like she had some sort of rock on the top of her hair. What the hell was she thinking this morning? The girl walked into Steve’s. She wore a lace tutu and obviously a pushup bra. Freddie most definitely checked out her a*s, and so did I. We turned to each other. “That’s nothing to be proud of.”

   “You did it, too, Bo.”

   “No,” I replied, “I mean her a*s. Teeny-weeny,” we giggled, “has she ever heard of a sandwich?”

   Freddie frowned. “Or a flattering outfit?”

   “Apparently not,” I said, my voice tainted with laughter. I loved being a lesbian. I could find common grounds with Freddie that I never got to before I came out to him. Placing girls on scales may be crude, but he’d be doing it alone if it wasn’t for me. Anyways, the girl wanted to be checked out or she wouldn’t have that ridiculous getup on.

   I said my farewell to the ill Freddie and went back to Steve’s for more clerking. The rest of the day went by slowly, though I had only three hours left. When the clock struck four thirty, I placed my lanyard in the register, hugged Stephanie, who giggled and kept on texting whoever she already had been. The sun was bright outside. I sighed softly. Time to walk. It was only eleven blocks, and I always jogged. Dad came home late every day.

   I smiled to the little kids at the park, Ben and Joshua. They were there on Saturdays and Sundays, since their father, Lane Porter, had them on the weekends. They were sweet kids. I waved to Lane, but he just stared at the ground. He was a thoughtful person by nature, not by the seemingly continuous pattern of me being ignored. I walked on through the park, turning at Nicholas Boulevard. My apartment complex sat on its ten acres of quaint trashiness. The actual land itself was beautiful, but my neighbors were terribly dirty and all had habits of littering. I passed by my building, the sixth, and slipped my hands in my pockets. It was warm enough to sit outside, cool enough to huddle up under the withered willow tree that overlooked my bedroom window. I kicked some of the dirt away and I sat down. Sam peered at me from my window. Why wasn’t I in the house? I should be in the house. Bonnie, you should be in the house attending to my needs of caressing, you know this. I smirked. “Later, Sam,” I mouthed.

   A stick cracked beside me. I looked up. Heat Prevention stood there- the real her. She slipped her braid over her shoulder. “Can I sit here?” She sounded… slightly different. I didn’t care, though. It was really her, and this time, I wasn’t looking away. She knelt down with grace, making sure that the top of her sandals never touched dirt. She looked up at the sun, taking out a pair of white Ray-Bans and slid them onto her face. She bit her lip. “It’s pretty out here.”

   My mouth felt drier than the Sahara. I stole a few glances at her, making sure she didn’t see, before I spoke. “Do… do I know you?”

   She shrugged. “Do you really know anyone?”

   “Are you really that deep?”

   She giggled softly. “Okay, okay, fine. I’m not deep.” She maneuvered around to have her whole body toward mine. “You do not know me, but I’ve been watching you ever since you left that store. I feel like we should know each other, however… creepily future stalker-ish that sounds.” She added a little smile at the end. Her blue eyes twinkled.

   I cocked my head. For some reason, I didn’t really find it creepy at all. I felt exhilarated that this beautiful wonder had watched me. She had come all this way to tell me she wanted to know me. I stared at an ant rolling a crumb on the ground. The ant was much braver than me.

   “What’s your name?”

   I swallowed hard. At least this answer was easy. If I got this wrong, well I’m too goddamn stupid for her. “Bonnie. Bo Reilly.” I licked my lips apprehensively. Why did I feel comfortable enough to tell her my nickname? Why did I feel comfortable around her at all?

   “I’m Mahalia,” she held out her hand, letting the ant crawl on it. My eyes followed the little red bug. I’d never let it walk all over me. She put her hand in some grass and it left. She chuckled. “Okay, Bonnie Reilly.” Mahalia stood. “I’m going to leave you be. I’m just glad we met- finally.” She began walking off.

   “Can’t I get your number? Something?” I called, standing up after her.

   She stopped mid-step. “If we need to speak, I’ll find you, Bonnie Reilly.” She scratched her head, then kept on.

   I couldn’t help but to smile. A few minutes after she left, giving her time to really get out, I went up to the apartment, unlocked the door, and stumbled down the hallway like a drunk. I felt like my heart hadn’t ever beat before she smiled at me. My hand reached the doorknob to my room just as I heard my dad enter. He didn’t say a word to me. I turned around. “How was your day-” My face dropped and my hand flew to my throat. There wasn’t a robot necklace there. Where there was one was in my dad’s hand. “Where’d you find it?”

   His grey eyes bored holes into mine. He held out my necklace and I took it. “That Christian boy was in the parking lot. He and his parents just moved to building two.” He loosened his tie. “He told me you left it at work.” He shook his head. “You’ve been told you can’t work there, Bonnie. Just… go to your room.” He walked off, shutting his door quietly behind him.

   I should have been angry at Christian. I should have been angry at my dad. I should have been angry that I was going to be grounded, but I wasn’t. I was ecstatic still. My mood wasn’t brought down a single notch. I flopped on my bed and Sam walked around my bed, waiting for me to pet him. I people-watched Dina and the bald man leave their apartment and go to their car, but all I could really see was myself being watched by Mahalia.

   It was creepy. Yeah, pretty creepy, but smite me down now if she wasn’t the hottest stalker on Earth.