On a corner at Colfax Point in South Park, the air was thick with smoke, the ground littered with rubbish. There were small, dingy clubs with neon lighting along Colfax Avenue, and women loitered around in front, looking for customers and having smokes.
Pressed up against a brick wall at the entrance to a shady alley stood a young woman with caramel and chestnut hair and a hazy look about her eyes. She wore a slick, black overcoat and vintage brown boots. She looked off into the distance, forlorn, as she took a drag of her thin, delicate cigarette.
As she stood against that brick wall, Tammy Warner thought back to her one true relationship over the years. She giggled under her breath at the thought that she'd only been in fifth grade at the time. Tammy blew a smoke ring and let the memories of Kenny come back to her.
It wasn't something she oft thought about, but when she did, Tammy felt a gentle disappointment; it was just about the only good thing she'd ever had. He'd always wear his little jacket, she reminisced, and the only time I ever saw him without the hood up was when he'd take it down so we could kiss.
He always took me to the park, since neither of our houses was that great for doing anything; the two of us, dirt poor. We would innocently hold hands, even though by nightfall we'd be lying on the grass, looking up at the generous view of the night sky as our bodies pressed together underneath the cover of Ken's parka, assorted clothes lying beside us. We didn't sleep together, though. We just lay there, watching the stars while beneath the orange jacket, Ken's hands lightly touched my body.
Tammy finished her cigarette, squelching it out under the toe of her boot before heading towards the curb, looking for work. She sighed, wondering how she'd ended up here, wondering what Kenny might be doing tonight.
A battered white pickup came to a slow halt before her, and the window came down. For a moment, her mouth stood agape, but she quickly recovered her poise. The man in the truck wore an orange hoodie, but he smelt of cheap tobacco and fast food. Besides, his hair was a grungy brown. Tammy hopped into the front passenger seat, disguising her disappointment with impassiveness. She reclined the seat, put her feet up on the dash, and stoically said, "Where to?"