Chapter 13.

the 13th chapter....

Continues from end of Chapter 12

"I know not to try you, Jason O'Riley. That's why I'm glad you're on my side�"

"You mean you're lucky."

"Same difference."

"Is Jenna home?" Ian asked before a drink of his beer.

"Not sure," Dan replied.

"She still in school?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, she was always the smart one." Dan rolled his eyes.

"She got the looks and the brains," Jason answered with a laugh. "Sucks for you."

Dan just shrugged. "I still have some redeeming qualities."

"Yes, on the commodities exchange market." Jason eyed the bong.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've cut back, man. I mean it."

"Not judging you. That's not what I'm here for."

"Course not," Dan answered with a grin. "Ah, it's good to have you back, Jason."

Michal was getting restless. "Are we going or what?" he asked.

"Coming from the person whose a*s it was impossible to get off the couch earlier," Jason muttered.

"And?"

"Okay, we're going."

Chapter 13

Michal and Ian were skeptical that there would be a worthy game going on by the time they got there. Dan and Jason were insistent that there would be. That their friends that knew they were in town had specifically invited them. They had to park about a block away, but when they got out of the car, they could see up ahead a street hockey game in progress where the street turned into a dead end.

There were no I-told-you-so's. Jason was just happy to see he could play.

Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He handed it to Conner. "Hey, kiddo. Since you're not playing. You see that deli?" It was right across the street from them. "Can you buy me a Gatorade?"

Conner looked at the deli and took the money. "Okay."

"Buy yourself something too if you're thirsty," Jason said as he pulled his rollerblades out of the trunk. He looked over at where people were playing and shook his head. "It's been a while, Dan. You think we can hustle them a little bit?"

Dan grinned. "What do you have in mind?"

Ian rolled his eyes at Jason, who didn't miss it. Jason eyed him. "Oh, please, Ian. I know what you want to say. But you're not going to say it."

Ian just gave him a look. "What am I wanting to say then, Jason?"

Jason just cocked his head to the side and smirked at his brother. "Please." He shook his head. "Spare me."

Conner wondered briefly what they were arguing about this time, but didn't stick around to find out. He gripped the money in his hand, hidden in his palm, and walked across the quiet street to the deli. He studied the advertisements in the window briefly as he approached.

He was actually relieved for the release from the group, and took a deep breath of comfort in being alone. The past twenty four hours were filled with so many new people that he wasn't sure how to react. Part of him wanted to run away. Part of him was too scared to even consider that, especially after last night.

He glanced behind him before he entered the deli, and saw the other guys moving down the block towards the hockey game.Conner was kind of interested in watching the game. He liked hockey a lot, especially street hockey, because there were less rules and people always seemed to take out their aggressions. He wanted to take out his aggressions. He just wasn't sure how.

A bell jingled as he opened the door the store and the Italian man sitting behind the counter looked up at him for barely a second before returning to reading his paper. Conner was the only customer in the store.

There was an old song playing over the radio and Conner found himself softly humming to it as he walked towards the back of the store where there were refrigerators holding all the drinks. He wasn't thirsty, so he would just buy the Gatorade.

He realized he had no idea what kind Jason wanted. He saw blue and orange and red and yellow. He really didn't know too much about Jason to even guess what flavor he wanted. The only thing he'd seen Bobby drink was orange juice and beer. If he was going to stick with color then that would be yellow.

Jack almost smiled to himself. That was such stupid reasoning. It was kind of funny.

Personally Conner just thought red. It seemed like a popular color or flavor. If he was wrong, it wasn't like Jason had specified. Right? He didn't remember him specifying. Just "buy me a Gatorade". He couldn't possibly get mad over that.

People got mad over everything though. It was hard to predict what would set someone off in irritation. Conner had certainly found himself punished for even less than mixing up a drink. Sometimes even for something that he wasn't even aware of because he'd had nothing to do with it. Sometimes he was just an easy target.

So�. Red�. Orange�. Yellow�. Blue�.

Why was he making this a difficult decision?

This was what Anthony always reminded him to work on. He knew he was confusing the consequences of his actions and misinterpreting possibilities, but it wasn't a rationalization, it was a feeling, and that wasn't really something Conner could stop. Feelings were feelings because they couldn't be controlled. They just happened.

He just felt afraid to make the decision.

Even if he didn't make anybody angry, there was the chance of causing disappointment with his decision. And that was always a bad feeling too. Conner hated the look of disappointment in people's eyes. Especially when he was the cause of it. All he wanted was to please somebody.

Come on. It's just a stupid drink. No one cares. He's just thirsty, it's not a life or death decision.

Not making a decision would be worse. Standing in this store in front of the refrigerator would definitely be worse. And then there would be questions. What was wrong with him. What was he doing. Why was he taking so long.

Conner hated probing questions.

So red? It was hit or miss really. There were less reds left so Conner assumed it to be a good choice: the popular choice. He opened the fridge door, listened to the hum of the coolers, and pulled out a red bottle.

"Is this it?" the man asked when he put it on the counter.

"Yeah." Conner put the ten dollars next to the bottle.

The man tiredly rang it up on the cash register and gave him change. "Need a bag?"

"No." Why would he need a bag for a drink? That seemed like a stupid question.

Walking out the door, Conner thought about running away again. It was always just this thought lingering in his mind. He thought about freedom and different cities. Somewhere brighter and friendlier, somewhere with music and less fear.

He was about a half a block away from the guys, who were at the game. He couldn't see from here if they were playing yet or not. He wondered if they would notice if he just disappeared�

He wasn't sure where he would go. Getting lost in Detroit was never a good option, and getting picked up as a runaway was even worse. Conner had always wanted to hop on a Greyhound bus and ride out of the city. Anywhere really. But an eleven year old walking around by himself was usually questioned. And he didn't have any money.

Well, now he had eight dollars and thirty cents. That might get him somewhere.
Conner had put the money into his pocket. He wondered if Conner would ask for it back. Maybe he would pretend to forget he had change. Jason might forget as well. It would be a start to some kind of savings.

Another decision. Walk away somewhere or walk towards the game.

He heard Anthony in his head. Telling him to give them a chance and to behave.

Conner felt torn inside. He didn't know what to do anymore. He really just wanted to leave.

More than anything he felt meek though. And after the run in with Jason last night� He told Jason he would give it a week. He didn't want to give it a week. But he felt so apprehensive. He felt like someone would notice him walking away and then he would be in loads of other trouble.

Conner sighed and grudgingly began walking in the expected direction. He looked at the game as he walked. The boys were all older than he was, some of them shirtless to distinguish teams, and the play appeared pretty rough. As Conner neared, he saw Ian sitting on the pavement on the sidelines, watching.

He walked up to him slowly.

"Can I have some of that?" Ian asked with a gesture to the Gatorade. Before Conner could answer, Ian had already taken it from him and was twisting the cap off.

Conner watched him take a big gulp of it. "Does Jason like red?" he asked.

"Huh?" Ian asked as he screwed the cap back on. "Oh, like the flavor? Hell if I know."

"Oh. Okay." Well if Ian didn't know, then he couldn't have been expected to know. He'd only known them barely a day.

See how stupid it was to labor over a stupid decision like picking out a drink, he told himself. He had so much to learn. He wished human nature was more consistent.

Ian set the drink on the pavement beside him. He looked up at the sky, which had once been sunny but now seemed rather overcast. "I wonder if I'll get to play before the weather turns."

"It's going to rain."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. Like the wind just changed and suddenly the sun is gone."

Conner studied the older boy, trying to figure him out. There was more to talk about than weather, and Conner suddenly felt particularly bold. "Who do you owe money to?" he asked.

Ian turned his head from the game to give the boy a skeptical look. "Well, isn't that funny. You decide to speak up suddenly, and with just the right questions, huh?"

Conner wasn't sure what he meant. He felt his heart skip a beat. He was just curious. Now he'd made him mad too. This is why staying quiet was sometimes just a better idea.

"I was just curious," he began in excuse.

"Nah, it's okay�" Ian sighed. "I don't mean to be in such a bad mood. Not letting you get to know me very well, huh?"

Conner finally sat down on the pavement beside him and echoed his sigh.

"Well, I don�t owe anybody here any money, at least," Ian said. "Were you worried about that?"
Conner shrugged. It had crossed his mind. After they'd made such a big deal about it back at the McDonald's. The last thing Conner wanted to see was more arguments.

Ian sighed. "Yeah, no immediate trouble at least. F**k. I was worried about that." He laughed a little nervously. "It's not an exciting story. Just me being a f**k-up. And Jason's going to kick my a*s if I tell him everything. Like there's one good thing about when he's not around. He can't give me s**t for this kinda stuff."
Conner wasn't sure what to say again. He didn't know how to move the conversation anymore.

Silence. Silence was painful.

"So you said you played hockey before?" Ian asked.

Conner nodded. "Yeah."

"You like it?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I mean, you're too little to play with them like this, but like, it's a big part of our family. Hockey, I mean. 'Specially to Jason. If you wanna get on his good side, just let him try to turn you into a professional hockey player." Ian laughed. "He'll love that."

"I'm not very good."

"Compared to Jason none of us are. It's not a big deal. He enjoys it that way. He likes teaching."

"Okay." Conner scratched at his head, messing up his already tousled hair. "Who's Dan?"

Ian rubbed his chin. The kid was suddenly being talkative. The change in weather seemed to have rubbed a little bit of conversation off on him. "Dan� Jason's just real close to him. They go way back. And we've always just kind of hung out with him because of that. He's not what I'd call a big contribution to society or anything, but he's a real nice guy most of the time. Jason was into his sister for a little while too."

"Oh."

Ian studied the kid for a minute but didn't say anything. He wondered what the kid was doing with this information. Just storing it in his head for future analysis. Getting to know them slowly.

Silence passed between them. He was an okay kid Ian supposed. Looked like your typical skinny white boy with messy hair and poor clothes, but he knew there was more. He just didn't have the desire to try to pick him apart yet. That was Ma and Jason's territory.

There was something though. Something about this kid. They'd all had their share of chaos. That was why they were with Judy. While some of their experiences may be similar, they each had a unique story.

The silence was suddenly comfortable between them as they simply focused on the game.

However, hockey didn't last long. It finally started to rain and although the boys playing pretended they didn't mind at first, it began to get pretty heavy after just a couple minutes.

"Now I'm jealous of that sweatshirt," Jason muttered after he walked over to get Ian and Conner. Conner had disappeared under the hood of his sweatshirt and looked miserable. Jason bent down to pick up the Gatorade bottle on the pavement and motioned for them. "Let's go home. Ma will skin me alive if I bring you all home soaking wet." He quickly changed out of his rollerblades back into now damp sneakers.

"Too late for that," Ian muttered as he looked up at the sky, letting the big drops slide down his face. "I feel like I'm showering with my clothes on."

"C'mon, already, then," Jason persisted. Dan and Michal had already run to the car with all their stuff. There were a bunch of people still hanging around but the game was obviously over. "I f*****g hate when my nice days are ruined."

"I knew we shouldn't have gotten off the couch," Ian replied as they started walking briskly for the car, Conner trying to keep up with their longer strides.

"You're a smartass today, you know that?" Jason said.

"You're a smartass every day."

"And way to prove my point, Ian." Jason laughed.

When they got to the car it was already running, radio loud enough to hear outside the car. Dan was in the driver's seat but Jason shook his head at him and gestured him to slide across.

He opened the driver's side door. "No way in hell, f****r. You're not driving my car."

"Why not? Your car's a piece of s**t," Dan said as he obligingly slid over. Ian and Conner were climbing into the back seat.

"My piece of s**t," Jason reminded as he sat in the car. "Where's your car? Oh, yeah, that's what I thought."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"You only get a little bit of time out of the house today then. You want to come back to our place or�?"

"Nah, just drop me home," Dan answered. "I'm on the way."

Jason turned the windshield wipers on and put the car into drive. "Well, that was disappointing."

Conner felt his stomach turn. There was that predictable disappointment. It always crept up somewhere.

Author's Note

Are the readers getting board with the story? please tell me, I need to know!