| Reason 7 I've not felt this good in....well, forever. That's why I'm letting go. Having fun. Forgetting the consequences for just a little while and enjoying being *alive* for once in my dismal fifteen years. Thoughts spared for Chino, Moms, Stick Man, anything that happens to be tainted in a bad way, are totally void from my mind for now. "You have a pretty smile" Shaun states, turning his head to fully look at me where I'm sprawled ever-so-gracefully all over the sand on my back in my t-shirt and shorts which are caked with salt and sand. My hair is in a similar condition. But I really don't care because the sun feels so good on my skin that I never want to move. "Said the gay guy" I answer, shielding my eyes from the sun with an upraised hand and offering a smile that lets him no I'm only trying to get under his skin. Shaun smiles and looks out across the water which is becoming blinding from the reflection of the midday sunlight. He's sitting next to me, his elbows resting on upraised knees, basking in the warmth of the merciless L.A sun while it bakes his already dark caramel skin and turns it an even darker shade that reminds me somewhat of Dom, whom I'm not thinking about because he is what I call tainted in a bad way. "Just because I don't prefer women over men doesn't mean I can't see something pretty in them" Shaun says, then looks over his shoulder at me, ebony eyes studying my face, "You can't tell me you don't see people like Catherine Zeta Jones or Aaliyah and not know that they're beautiful". I think about this. Yeah, he's probably right. But I'm not about to let on because that would make me wrong and I'd rather pretend that I was right. I don't know where I got it. Chino, probably. I just can't stand being wrong. Can't stand being proved wrong, because that's even worse. When you think you're right and then you find out you're not. Elias is like that too. So's Dom and V. Hector, not so much. He's more of a go-with-the-flow kinda guy. Like Shaun. "So, Shaun, do you, like, see guys on the street and think 'damn, he's hot'?" I ask, generally interested, looking at the deepening caramel of his back, because he's sitting too far forwards for me to see his actual face from where I'm lying. "Sometimes" he shrugs, turning on the sand to face me instead of the sea and crossing his legs with a matter-of-fact look on his face, "I like pale blue eyes in a dark complexion. I don't think you get much better than that...pale green comes close, but it's just something about the blue...icy...I don't know. It's a nicer contrast". I don't mean to laugh but this is so surreal. I never ever imagined once that I would be lying on the beach with a gay prostitute that I've known for a few days, talking about what makes a guy cute. Everything about Shaun and this whole situation is so surreal. My God, I've been hanging around Shaun too long. Check out the vocabulary. "Hmmm. I gotta say the tall/dark thing does it for me" I answer after controlling my giggles and patting his arm (carefully, to avoid further injuries) so he knows I'm not laughing at him directly, and pull my shorts up a little so that I don't have a tan line across my knees, "Can I ask you something?". Shaun shrugs, ruffling his own hair with one hand, then wiping stray sand onto the leg of his shorts, "Sure." "How do you get with two guys at the same time?" I ask, shielding my eyes again to look at him. I don't mean to sound so blunt about it but, how else am I supposed to ask? I suppose I could have done it hypothetically. 'Say Daniel and Ram and Boof all wanted to get together, how would they go about it?' "You don't wanna know" Shaun says after a moment of processing my uncalled-for question, turning his head to cast his gaze over the ocean. "Aw, c'mon!" I grin, propping myself up on my elbows, "What, do you all get on top of each other like stacks in the mill?". Shaun makes a face like I've said something disgusting, with a hint of sadness thrown in there that makes me feel a pang of guilt before he even answers. "Don't be crude, Let" Shaun says, not even looking at me this time. I stop smiling and sit up slowly, trying to see his face. As I move, he glances at me. I only just catch it, because his gaze is so elusive, but it was definitely there. Shame. I couldn't put my finger on it before, but that's the look he gets when his 'job' is brought up. It's just a flicker in his eyes, but it's there alright. He's ashamed of what he does. And here I was, thinking he liked it because he got laid and he got paid for it too. How naive am I, huh? I don't even know why I thought he'd be different from any other ashamed, self-loathing prostitute. I guess it's because he's a guy. Which isn't very fair of me, but I don't see how anyone else would think any differently. I mean, guys can't even be raped by a woman, can they? Because you have to be penetrated to be raped. And that's not too fair, I'm thinking, now that I've brought it up. I saw that on SVU once. Didn't really think about it at the time, but when you know someone it could happen to, it all becomes different. More real. More of a threat. "Shaun" I say softly, touching his knee gingerly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I jus'-" "It's fine, Let" he says, cutting me off and producing a smile that is undeniably warm, no matter how guarded his eyes are. He's watching me now. Trying to find where I'm gonna strike next so he can defend himself against it. The smile is a pretty lousy attempt at covering this up, because even *I* can tell it's somewhat forced. We sit in uncomfortable silence for god knows how long. Wish the G-Man would let me in on it though. Because I don't like it when Shaun's upset, and especially when I'm the reason for it. Can't seem to help it, though. I'm like a disease. I make people unhappy. That's why Chino hates me so much. That's why I haven't seen Elias smile in longer than is healthy. That's why Dom despises me. Because that's what I do. I make people unhappy. "You wanna go get somethin' to eat?" Shaun asks, looking over his shoulder again, this time at the other people on the beach who're slowly but surely beginning to leave for lunch. Damn. We've been out here longer than I thought. I've lost my sense of time. Out here, with Shaun, there's nothing that needs to be done. No pressing engagements. No school. No homework. No basketball training. Just me and whatever I feel like doing. It's an overwhelming sense of freedom that I'm still trying to get used to. "Sure" I shrug, glad to find that there is no unhappy tinge in his voice. He stands with a feline grace that I could never hope to achieve, and offers his hand. I get up more beached-whale style and let him take most of my weight as I struggle to my feet. Shaun bends and grabs his Timbalands by the laces, then snatches up his jersey off the sand and shakes the white granules from it briefly before pulling it on. I pick up my shoes and socks and we head between two brightly coloured umbrellas that are shading a family on one side, and two old prunes on the other. The two of them have been giving me death stares since me and Shaun got here. I don't know exactly why. Perhaps it's the age difference between me and Shaun. Maybe it's the bruises he's got. Or it could just be because we are (or atleast appear to be) Mexican, which, in my experience, automatically makes me a criminal. A very pessimistic way to look at things, I know, but that's just me on a good day. "Wotchoo feel like?" Shaun asks, tilting his face back so that he can still feel the sun, "There's about a squillion food courts at the mall down the street", he tilts his head slightly so that he can catch the sun and see me at the same time, "Thai? Chinese? Mexican?" "Mexican is never made right" I wrinkle my nose, "Especially in food courts". I've been to dinner at Hector's before. His Moms is a fucking legend! She cooks better than anyone who's currently living and breathing on the face of this planet. And she's so sweet and she's always making sure I'm OK and I'm happy and she's the epitome of a perfect mother. I wish I had a Mom like Hector's... "So, Mexican's been knocked out of the race" Shaun says as we cross the road, "That only leaves about two million, nine hundred and sixty three thousand, two hundred and seventy one contestants still in the running". I smile as we cross under the shade cloth of a shop, which feels extra cold, seeing as we've been in the sun all morning. I tilt my head to see the massive complex we've come up to. Woah. There aren't any major malls like this in our neighborhood. Well, the neighborhood I formally resided in. I'm trying to get it through my thick skull that I do not live there any more. That isn't my home. My home, when it finally eventuates, will be Pedro's place. It takes us a fucking millennium to cross the huge, chock-full carpark. Jeezuz. This place must be packed! I don't think I've seen this many people all in one place at one time. And how so many people can drive ugly cars like the ones we're weaving around, I have no clue. Have they no pride in their appearance? Or shame, at that? "Any decisions been made as to what you want for lunch?" Shaun asks in millionaire-speak. It sounds cute, coming from him. Maybe it's his broad accent or something. Or maybe it's the contrast between the kind of things you'd expect him to say and the things he actually says is what makes it...I don't know. I'm confusing myself. All I need to know right now is what I want for lunch. "Not yet. I'm keeping my options open until I see what's available" I answer, imitating his style. Shaun laughs, waiting a second before the automatic doors open. There's not as many people as I expected, but maybe they are all squeezed into one shop that's having a discount sale or something. Or maybe they all heard us coming, and are stampeding in the opposite direction. That's Elias's running joke. He's always teasing me. But it's nothing personal, y'know? We just tease each other for fun. Trying to brighten the mood around our house, which is pretty damn pointless, really. I look around, looking for signs of life; I'm being sarcastic, it's not that deserted; and I spot someone familiar dressed all thug-like with blue tinted hair, standing with his two heavies and another guy that I don't recognise. "Hey" I tug on Shaun's sleeve, "There's Angel". I point to where he's standing with a kinda scrawny looking guy with a Metallica t-shirt on a dirty jeans. Shaun follows my gaze and my pointing and finds his friend. Angel's not looking overly happy with being talked to by the scrawny head-banger. He's got a slight look of...disgust? discomfort? I don't know. He just doesn't look happy. "Let's go see him" I say, looking up at Shaun. He makes a face like he's not sure it's such a good idea, and half shrugs. "Like I told you, Let. He's not a miracle worker. I don't think he'll have anything yet" Shaun says, looking at the sad-puppy-dog-eyes I'm giving him, "You can see, if you like, but don't say I didn't warn you". I grin and grab his hand, pulling him in Angel's direction. Angel spots us coming and offers a smile that looks more like a Shaun/Lex style smirk than anything, then looks across at the scrawny guy who's still trying to talk to him. "'scuse me a sec" he says, holding up a hand, and takes the opportunity of leaving very quickly, walking over to us, and leaving the head-banger with Skarto and Argento for company. "Letty" he smiles, winking at me, "Shaun" a winning smile, "Wotchoo's doin'?" "Savin' you" Shaun says, waving a hand towards the scrawny guy whom Angel seems happy to have escaped, "An' plus Letty woz wonderin' 'bout her cousin". Angel looks across at me and gives me a half smile. I like it when he smiles. "A woman who knows what she wants. I like that" I blush involuntarily because an older, cute guy saying something like that is prone to make one blush, "Now, I *have* been lookin' into yer cousin. There's alot of Pedro Ramirez's around, so, I'ma need a little more information to narrow it down some. Like, has he got any brothers? Sisters? Partners? Pets? Doctors? Lawyers? Anything like that'll do. What kinda car does he drive?" Woah. Overload on questions. I try to sort through the queries I was just bombarded with so I can answer one or two. "Um...He's got a brother, Shorty, and his girlfriend was Lamanda, last time I seen him. Don't think he's got any pets....and he drives a Subaru. Impreza. WRX" I answer, "It's silver. It's got 'Rally GT' on the side in red, near the back wheel. And it's got dark silver flames on the hood and on the sides. It's got APC projector headlights. Greddy front mount. Veilside body kit. Rear spoiler. And it has 'Ramirez' across the back window". He smirks at me. "Knows her cars" this is directed at Shaun. He just nods. I haven't talked cars with Shaun. Cars are my life. I love them. There's nothing sexier that a hotted up car (except maybe a hotted up guy). Like Dom's MR-2. I love that car. Think he'd let me near it though? Not a fucking chance. "I'll get right on it" Angel says, this time looking at me, "Thanks for the extra info". I smile and nod, and he heads back over to his heavies. My stomach rumbles, reminding me of why we came to the mall in the first place. "Lets get some food" I say, turning in the direction we were originally heading in. Shaun follows, eventually catches up, and we turn to the left, because that's where I can smell greasy food. I just about run into someone. He's alot taller than I am. White. Black hair. Green eyes. Dressed in a suit, sorta. Black jacket and pants. Italian leather shoes. pale blue shirt. Gold chain. Looks kinda freaky to me. Get this bad vibe offa him. And like I've said, I can tell this kinda thing. "Shaun" this guy gives a crooked grin, "Fancy runnin' into you here". Shaun's eyes widen, and he stares for a second before regaining his voice, "Um. We're...we're jus' grabbing some food" he stammers in the most freaked-out voice I've ever heard coming from Shaun. The guy nods slowly, still with the same crooked smirk plastered on his face. I look across at Shaun. He's rubbing his arm nervously, watching this 6"3, 6"4 Arnie-cross-Al Capone/Mafia man-look-alike. Except he's not so old. He's actually pretty young. Early twenties. And he might've been cute if he didn't seem so...off. I watch Shaun's hand, still running gently against his arm. He presses against a purple bruise that marks his caramel skin. And I've worked out who this guy is now, and why he's giving me such a bad vibe. This is the bastard who hurt Shaun last night. "Who's the pretty girl?" the guy asks, looking me up and down, "You goin' straight or some shit?". Shaun glances at me, then holds puts a hand on my arm defensively. "No one. Leave her be" he says in a voice that sounds protective, but has a strong underlying fear through it. I glare at the guy. "I'm Letty" I tell him, raising my chin. He smirks at me. His smirk isn't cute like Shaun's or Lex's. It's cruel and cold and I don't like it one bit. So I kick him in the shins. It catches him unaware. Wasn't expecting that. Shaun grabs my arm as I kick him again and go for a punch, pulling me away. "Stay the fuck away from Shaun!!" I scream, or the closest I'm gonna get to screaming, at him, as Shaun tries to drag me away before I full on football-tackle this guy. He just smirks at me. That smirk that is nothing like Shaun's or Lex's. That smirk that I absolutely hate. "Letty, please" Shaun pleads, dragging me outside the mall, back into the car park, "Jus' leave it". I spin on him, angry as hell. "That's the guy, isn't it?" I ask, still fuming, "That's the guy who hurt you! How can you just let him stand there and be such a... fucking....bastard!? Why don't you call the cops on him or something!?" "He *is* a cop!" Shaun answers, pointing back towards the mall, "He's a cop! Nothing is the way it seems here, Letty. Just because he's meant to help people doesn't mean that he does. Everything's mixed up out here, y'know, and you get hurt if you're too trusting. That's why I think you should go home". More To Come.... |