Runaways: Chapter 2
The necessesary and the Not-so.
_MELLO'S point of view_
Matt's asleep within minutes of lying down and it makes me smile because I was right. That kid can go a while without sleeping – longer than most, I'll admit – but we've had a tough week, and I'm conscious of the fact that I haven't seen him sleep yet. Not once. So I made him. I sneak glances at his face every now and then, his soft breaths feather-light and innocent. The sleeping bag has been pulled right up to his chin and he looks snug warm. He's the cutest thing, in my eyes, and though I'd never admit that out loud, I really do mean it.
We met two years ago; I had just turned thirteen and it was new years, we were at a party because some of our relatives were friends with someone or other – we both went for the orange juice at the same time – we weren't allowed alcohol. Matt was only eleven, not having had his twelfth birthday yet, but he was all bedraggled, his hair all tufty and his clothes way too big for him. He looked like he didn't want to be there at all. The fat bruise on his cheek bone attracted me to him, initially anyway, and I befriended him with ease. He was a similar age to me after all.
We sat in the garden among stumbling half-drunk women in high heels and jolly men in shirts, quietly perched on the garden swing near the back. After a while, we thought it funny to drink the leftover wine in the peoples glasses, going round the tables and sipping the glasses whilst they were up dancing, and before we knew it we were stumbling around just as stupidly as those women. I don't remember being separated from him, but I remember waking up in my bed, scolded by my foster mother, and not seeing him until February – I was at the park with my foster parents and the other kids, and he was on the swing, all tufty haired, bedraggled and cute-looking. So I went to join him. It was his birthday and his parents had died three nights prior, but he wasn't sad. He said he was perfectly happy enjoying himself at the park alone – so I said goodbye and walked away – but he didn't mean it like that. Being thirteen, and thinking I was an adult now, meant I wanted to give him a present, but I had nothing.
I didn't tell my foster mother that his parents had died and Matt never told me if he was in the System now, seeing as he was an orphan. He stayed over one night, then the next, then the next, continuously making up believable lies that his parents said it was ok because they worked a lot. I felt mean lying to my foster mother, agreeing with what Matt said, but if it meant more sleepovers with Matt then I was all for it. My foster mother began to worry when it was almost a week. Matt walked me to school but never went in. He left, always waiting at the gates when I'd come out.
On the twelfth of February – no special date – we were walking home from school when I got a bad feeling in my gut. Something that told me I'd be losing Matt soon, and I didn't want that to happen. Sure, I was thirteen now, but I knew the difference between brotherly love and something else. This was something else. It was embarrassing enough when you have your male friend stay over and some nights you end up being 'stuck to the sheets'. Matt never noticed. But at the thought of losing Matt, I made him promise never to forget me. He got worried and asked if I wanted him to leave; I apologized so many times for giving him that idea. I could never want him to leave. I told him that and we held hands discretely on the way home, it making my stomach flutter violently (like butterflies) – Matt was too innocent to think otherwise, or at least, I thought he was.
At the last corner before the turn to my house, he stopped me and kissed me. It wasn't the best kiss ever, but there were fireworks and tingly feelings. So it was fantastic. I kissed him back – which felt good too – but I knew that being gay – or even bi, there was this girl I liked before Matt (teenage hormones maybe?) – wouldn't come without its fair share of bullying and taunts at high school. The issue was never a problem from then on.
The school noticed Matt at the gates and wondered why he was never in school – luckily for us, my school didn't have a uniform.
The school then spoke with my foster mother, who word-vomited all her concerns about Matt to them, and then to Social Services as well. So when we came home that night, spectacularly elated from our first kiss around the corner, I was faced with Matt being torn away from me by social services. Literally torn from my own hands. I had nothing to eat that night, and I went to bed wet faced, teary eyed and angry.
The next day was a repeat, no eating, no talking, avoiding my foster mother at all costs and holing myself up in my room like a kid in a great teen angst movie. My emo-ness was short lived; Turns out it wasn't the first time Matt had been 'removed' from situations and put in temporary care. So he was well known with lock picks, evading security guards and loved it when they put electronic alarms on things. He was at my window at ten past one in the morning, watching me as I sat completely depressed on my bed. He knocked, grinned and beckoned me over.
We ran away that night, and we've been together ever since. Officer Jenkins has been tailing me for running from my foster parents, and Matt because he has no legal guardian. So we keep running.
"Mornin" Matt yawns, blinking at me innocently. "You got changed" He pouts playfully, scowling at my clothing and then at my face. He relaxes. "Oh god" He rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. "You look like a face with a bunch of things to do today"
"We can stay here in Winchester and do them, or keep on going elsewhere" I tell him. I've been thinking about it all night – reminiscing about how we met took up at least an hour of my time, so I had plenty of time to think of what to do and make a list. So now I have one. But that depends on if we risk staying, or if we move elsewhere. I don't feel completely comfortable staying. But with the thirty pounds that I counted before – it's making me insecure. If we had to run away again, thirty pounds won't get us very far. We need to stay, really, even if it's to work all day and all night to boost up our finances.
"Stay" Matt decides, sitting up and stretching. "I wanna' see that light-up thing" I roll my eyes.
"If that's what you're basing your opinion on, I'm sure there's-"
"M'not" He shrugs, defending himself. "We can't have that much money left Mel…we should do something" I nod in agreement and pull the list from its weighted position under my shoe. "That's not a long list…what were you doing all night?" I ignore him. Partly because I spent the rest of the night worrying, but I am not going to tell him that.
"I need you to make the new ID's. If we're gonna' work, we need them to know we're legal"
"Mel, you might get away with an eighteen this time" He says, hopeful. I shake my head. "But you're hot!"
"Fine. I'll go find a whore-house and make money that way, okay?" He looks horrified, grabbing my legs and shaking his head rapidly.
"God no! I'm not gonna' have sex with you if you have an STI or something" I can't help but laugh at this. "It's not funny!"
"I won't get away with an eighteen Matt" I remind him, bringing him back to the topic at hand. I'm fifteen, might get away with a sixteen-looking passport. Matt's only just fourteen and mature for his age – tall, too. But he'd never get away with looking like an eighteen year old.
"Can I make you one anyway?" He asks, peering up at me through his shaggy red hair. "It won't have a picture for now, but we can do that later"
"Whatever, I need one that says I'm sixteen" Matt nods – it's become routine for him to make the fake ID's – and he does it to perfection. "Can you get away with a sixteen, do you reckon?"
"I'm taller – I wanna' try an eighteen"
"Matt" I warn, frowning. "If I can't look eighteen then you cant – you're too cute"
"I'm taller than you" For a moment, I think it'll work. I think that he could pass as an eighteen year old, despite being only fourteen.
"No" I decide. "No. We both make it sixteen"
"Mel" He whines, stoking the instep of my foot with his thumb.
"No. Hop to it" I pass him the two ID's to amend and make, shuffling away from his teasing hands and grabbing my wallet from the bag.
"What're you gonna do?" He asks, looking up at me questioningly.
"I need to buy a paper…find some jobs – anything'll do as long as it pays"
"Whore house" Matt scrunches up his face in distaste and sticks out his tongue. I smile.
"Maybe a lap dancing club – will that make you feel better?" He bits his lip and turns his head away. "I was kidding"
"I know" He mumbles, defensively. Secretly, I think he gets a little jealous sometimes. I ruffle his hair, kiss his lips and scoop up my wallet before leaving.
OOO
On the way to the nearest newsagents, I see an advert in the window for waiter-staff at an expensive looking restaurant. I debate going in, but I can't decide, so I head for the newsagents, buy the paper and walk back slowly in thought, pausing outside the restaurant again before deciding to be daring. It was an on-the-spot interview. They paid cash, which was a bonus, and I got to keep tips. They asked for a CV or something, I lied and told them I was interested in the job but didn't expect to get as far as the interview, so I came unprepared. They were impressed with my social skills alone and let me have an hour trial under the agreement that I'd bring in some ID and my CV the next day. I agreed, did the one hour trial and impressed them right through the roof. They told me the job would still be here if I came back with the necessaries tomorrow and I could start as soon as, but if not, they'd keep searching. They asked for a mobile number, which reminded me to get another SIM card for our phones, but I told them I'd give it to them tomorrow – I'd have a new phone by then because my old one got dropped in the lake by my pet dog Doodles.
On the way back to the abandoned building, dubbed 'Home' for now, I stop in at a phone shop, advertising 'free SIM cards' so I get two. I also spied an OK looking motel, lit up with neon lights and such, for only ten pounds per person. If we did our usual trick, we'd be fine. When I get back, Matt's dressed in his clothes and going through things in the bag, seeing what we have and what not. I watch him from the window for a few seconds before jumping in. He whirls around in shock, ready to bolt, but see's it's me. I offer him a smile.
"You're back" He says, dropping the objects and rushing over to me. "It shouldn't have taken an hour – I-…." He worries.
"It's ok – I'm back now. Are the ID's done? I think I landed myself a job" He smiles, but doesn't look too surprised, turning back to his pile of things.
"Yeah, here" He passes the ID to me and I put it in my jacket pocket.
"I also need a CV" He stays expressionless.
"Don't ask me to do that" He says, completely dead-pan.
"You're a fast typer. If we go to the library, we can print it off. Just type what I say" He rolls his eyes and I kiss him to cheer him up. "You'll need one too – I'll tell you what to type as well" He looks ready to cry. "Oh, here, I have a new SIM card for your phone"
OOO
We walk up to the library, Matt's index and middle finger hooked onto mine. The library is a large brick building with big black letters announcing the fact that it's a 'Library' – so we head on in, feeling slightly out of place. Well, Matt instantly heads over to the computers with a fond look in his eye whilst I remember why I hate libraries. Way too quiet, even for me. It's 50p per half hour on the computers, so Matt decides it's a challenge, getting slightly irked that the computer is slowing him down. He Google's 'CV's' to try and get a better idea of what to put in them, giving the website the once over before putting all the details in. We get a bit hung up over the fact that we have no General Certificate of Education or whatever it is, but we'd agreed before now that when the time came for our year group to sit the exams, we'd enroll in the school a few months before – somewhere remote hopefully – and take them. We can just say we were home schooled, we try and keep up with the education system, or at least, I do and I try and force Matt to as well – he hates school with a ferocious passion, it's ridiculous.
Matt types up mine in twenty minutes, but by the time it comes to typing his, he has a better idea of how to word it and what to include. He finishes his with two minutes to spare, so we set the documents to print – black and white – which is free – and log off before the old Bat at the desk starts to charge us. She glares at us on the way out.
I show Matt the restaurant, handing in my CV and showing them my passport. They were a little bit bothered by the whole no-qualifications thing, but accepted me with smiles and a new work Rota with my shifts on it. As soon as we were out of sight of the restaurant, Matt shoved me out of sight and kissed me.
"You're amazing" He pulls off and walks away as if it never happened, laughing to himself as I catch up. "I thought that there'd have to be an excuse, or that, like, we're at school so we can only work part time or something. I didn't expect you to land it!" I shove him playfully, but he trips over his shoes like the clumsy ass he is (and those shoes are probably too big) and knocks a smartly dressed dude in a suit. One that looked like he could make a court case out of a dusty shoe.
"Woah, careful there" I watch with caution as the guy puts both his hands on Matt's shoulders to steady him. Restrict him, more like. I suck in a breath, bracing my feet on the floor and trying not to lunge at the creepy guy and snatch Matt back. Matt apologizes instantly, but the guy doesn't release Matt. Instead, he bows slightly to our level and talks to us like kids. "Aren't you kids supposed to be in school?" Why would he ask that? Seriously! Alarm bells chanting paedophile echo in my brain. I give him the once over and he gives me chills. Matt tenses visibly at the question, but puts on his Convincing Face and spouts out a lie.
"We just moved here – we should be enrolling soon, at the er…the local one" He beams a smile and the man smiles back. God Matt's smiles are contagious, even for paedophiles.
"The one up the road?" Matt cluelessly nods. "I'm a teacher there" The man laughs, a perfect row of teeth being displayed as his light brown hair shifts with the obvious cut of a Salon or something. I grimace. We're not going there then. "Hopefully I'll see you two around then, when you enroll. The sooner the better, y'know" He jokes.
"Yeah…" Matt agrees quietly.
"I'll expect to see you tomorrow then! Your parents don't have to come if they're busy, but we will need them to sign a few things-" I've had it!
"Yeah, yeah sure" I attempt to smile and be friendly but I just can't. He's too damn weird. "Bye" I take Matt's hand in mine and drag him away from the weird guy, Matt trailing behind me with a cute smile and completely innocent to the whole thing. Damn him.