Author's Note: I know it's taking me forever to post chapters, but my muse had decided to take a long winter break and I had to whip her back into shape. Inspiration is a fickle thing. Anyway, thanks for your reviews, very encouraging, and your patience. Hopefully the next chapter will come quicker!
"We got a new runaway today. A boy, about 15, I believe. Not very remarkable, he refuses to talk about himself, but we get withdrawn kids all the time. We tested him, no drug use, I suppose maybe that's remarkable. You haven't heard a word I've said have you?" Laura Stanton sighed in frustration as she looked over the top of her wine glass at her best friend, who seemed to be looking out the window. His glass was empty, she noted. She wondered casually how many times it had been emptied already that day.
"Snap out of it!" she said, throwing a couch pillow at him. He looked up, jarred back to reality, and looking a bit confused.
"Sorry, Lar," he said, looking sheepish. "Daydreaming, I guess. What were you saying?"
Laura smiled at the man on the other end of the couch, her best friend, her lover. He was always daydreaming, and she knew what about, too. She knew the death of his wife still pained him, even though it had been over a decade since it had occurred. Apparently, they had been married only a few months when a horrific car crash had claimed her life. When he had come to live in her neighborhood all those years ago, with the grief still fresh and the tears still wet, they had immediately bonded. Laura helped him through that first, hardest year with experience born of her work at the runaway shelter. They were the best of friends after that, though it was another three years before they had become lovers. There had been a brief period a few years after that, when she thought they would marry. But he never asked, and she eventually came to realize and accept that he wasn't going to. She knew he loved her, but he was still holding onto something, something she could not make him let go. Something she knew he never would.
"I was saying, while you were off in an alternate universe, that we got a new kid in at the shelter. A quiet boy, very reluctant to discuss anything about himself. We could hardly get his name out of him."
"What is his name?" Jesse asked.
"Glad to see you've joined the conversation. His name is Sam. He wouldn't tell me his last name, though he did say that Sam wasn't his real name. It was something weird, Zan, I think. Flower child parents, most likely."
Jesse chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Zan, huh? That's interesting..." He trailed off, and Laura could see something in his mind had lit up. It was a look he got in his eyes whenever a puzzle came along, whenever something intrigued him.
"Why?" she asked him.
"Why what?"
"Why is it interesting?"
He shrugged. "Just the name, I suppose. I mean, that's rather different even for a hippie. It's just odd, that's all." He gave her a little smile, but she didn't buy it at all. He looked way too innocent. Jesse had never been a good liar.
"Come on, spill it!" she said. "You're hiding something. Tell Miss Laura what it is."
"What are you talking about?"
Laura put on an exasperated expression. "Look, we've been together for what, eleven years? Longer if you count our 'friend' time. I think I'm a pretty good judge of whether or not you're telling the truth. Now, what's up?"
Jesse smiled at her, a smile touched with just a trace of sadness. "It's nothing really. The name just sounded familiar, that's all."
Laura was pretty sure there was more to it, but she knew when to push and when to let nature work on it's own. He would tell her eventually, just not tonight. She did have one question, though. "It doesn't have anything to do with...her, does it?"
Jesse almost seemed surprised by the question. "No, not really. Like I said, it's not a big deal." He leaned back against the arm of the couch, contemplating. "However, would you mind if I paid this kid a visit?"
"We got a new runaway today. A boy, about 15, I believe. Not very remarkable, he refuses to talk about himself, but we get withdrawn kids all the time. We tested him, no drug use, I suppose maybe that's remarkable. You haven't heard a word I've said have you?" Laura Stanton sighed in frustration as she looked over the top of her wine glass at her best friend, who seemed to be looking out the window. His glass was empty, she noted. She wondered casually how many times it had been emptied already that day.
"Snap out of it!" she said, throwing a couch pillow at him. He looked up, jarred back to reality, and looking a bit confused.
"Sorry, Lar," he said, looking sheepish. "Daydreaming, I guess. What were you saying?"
Laura smiled at the man on the other end of the couch, her best friend, her lover. He was always daydreaming, and she knew what about, too. She knew the death of his wife still pained him, even though it had been over a decade since it had occurred. Apparently, they had been married only a few months when a horrific car crash had claimed her life. When he had come to live in her neighborhood all those years ago, with the grief still fresh and the tears still wet, they had immediately bonded. Laura helped him through that first, hardest year with experience born of her work at the runaway shelter. They were the best of friends after that, though it was another three years before they had become lovers. There had been a brief period a few years after that, when she thought they would marry. But he never asked, and she eventually came to realize and accept that he wasn't going to. She knew he loved her, but he was still holding onto something, something she could not make him let go. Something she knew he never would.
"I was saying, while you were off in an alternate universe, that we got a new kid in at the shelter. A quiet boy, very reluctant to discuss anything about himself. We could hardly get his name out of him."
"What is his name?" Jesse asked.
"Glad to see you've joined the conversation. His name is Sam. He wouldn't tell me his last name, though he did say that Sam wasn't his real name. It was something weird, Zan, I think. Flower child parents, most likely."
Jesse chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Zan, huh? That's interesting..." He trailed off, and Laura could see something in his mind had lit up. It was a look he got in his eyes whenever a puzzle came along, whenever something intrigued him.
"Why?" she asked him.
"Why what?"
"Why is it interesting?"
He shrugged. "Just the name, I suppose. I mean, that's rather different even for a hippie. It's just odd, that's all." He gave her a little smile, but she didn't buy it at all. He looked way too innocent. Jesse had never been a good liar.
"Come on, spill it!" she said. "You're hiding something. Tell Miss Laura what it is."
"What are you talking about?"
Laura put on an exasperated expression. "Look, we've been together for what, eleven years? Longer if you count our 'friend' time. I think I'm a pretty good judge of whether or not you're telling the truth. Now, what's up?"
Jesse smiled at her, a smile touched with just a trace of sadness. "It's nothing really. The name just sounded familiar, that's all."
Laura was pretty sure there was more to it, but she knew when to push and when to let nature work on it's own. He would tell her eventually, just not tonight. She did have one question, though. "It doesn't have anything to do with...her, does it?"
Jesse almost seemed surprised by the question. "No, not really. Like I said, it's not a big deal." He leaned back against the arm of the couch, contemplating. "However, would you mind if I paid this kid a visit?"