When I was younger I saw a few people get killed. Growing up in the shady part of downtown LA it was bound to happen. I can't say that I was desensitized to death, but it didn't help providing me with a concept of having much to live for. I realized early that the only way not to wind up this way- dead- was to always stay on top. And, having your Mom die changes your entire life- regardless of age. It affected my little sister the most. Mia was only ten when she died. She cried the way most of us wanted to but just couldn't seem to. She then took on the responsibility of taking care of us. She cooked, cleaned, made sure that I was at least awake before school started. Mia went to school everyday. I think that she wanted to create a better life for us. She was smart too. But, she was pretty. And for some girls that is a curse.

When I finally saw the girl again it had been three weeks since our first encounter. She looked different. She looked empty. There was a body, but no emotion. She was sitting in the grass looking at a magazine. It was the middle of a school day. I had accidentally slept in, missed the bus, and decided to take the day off. I was trying to avoid my Dad's garage but didn't really have anywhere to go. So, I was pacing around trying to get into trouble. I walked past her. She looked up. I couldn't tell if she gave me a smile or a scowl. It has always been confusing with Letty.

"Whatcha doing? Why aren't you in school?" I said, stopping in front of her house.

"Why aren't you in school?" she questioned, exhibiting that badass attitude that I would come to love so much about her.

"I took the day off," I said with a cocky tone to my voice.

"Yeah, well, me too," she agreed, looking back at her magazine.

I wanted to say something to her about seeing her in the tree. I didn't know if she would even remember it was me. But, I couldn't muster the words.

"Whatcha reading?" I asked instead, walking a bit closer.

"Just a magazine…cars," she replied nonchalantly.

"Are you into cars? You're a girl," I said, shocked.

"So girls can't be into cars?" She said looking directly into my eyes. I had to avoid her eyes. I couldn't take looking right at her.

"No," I said in a "duh" type of manner.

"Idiot," she said, slightly laughing, slightly pissed.

"How old are you?" I asked inquisitively.

"Sixteen," she lied.

"How old are you really?" I asked again.

"Sixteen," she insisted. "And, this car here," she said, pointing to a picture in the magazine, "it's mine. I'm going to pick it up today and drive it to Mexico."

"Really?" I said, eyebrows perched. "Good luck with that. Goin' to Mexico? You runnin' from the law?"

"Somethin' like that," she said, avoiding the question.

"What are you runnin' from," I had concern in my voice at this point. I didn't want there to be another incident that I could have helped her avoid.

"Who are you?" she asked, refusing the question. It was pretty obvious that she didn't seem to like to answer questions. And, she wasn't giving away any information that was for sure.

"My name is Dominic. Toretto. I live up the street. My Dad owns the garage on the corner," I said pointing.

"Well," she said unenthused, "that's nice." It always took a lot to impress Letty. She had seen a lot, good and bad. And, when you have seen a lot it takes a lot to affect you.

"Who are you?" I asked back.

She didn't answer.

"Nobody?" I asked, a little stunned with her attitude. She was young, around my sister's age. But, I was still not used to this type of a reaction from anyone. She acted like I wasn't there. Hell, she acted like she wasn't there.

"…my name is Letty," she said after a few seconds.

"Alright, Letty, well I guess I'll let you get back to whatever it is that has you so interested. Have a good one," I said. I felt pretty foolish at this point. I didn't know who this young girl was. But, it was pretty clear that she could care less about talking with me. And, I've never been one to stand around and look stupid.

"Adios," she said.

As I turned to leave, I stopped. I had never really met anyone that brushed me off so easily. I was intrigued. What was this? My life had been hard. I had heard my parents fight about bills, spent some time with social services, and had my fair share of run ins with older guys. In reality, I got into fights because I liked the rush. I would never back down if challenged. I wasn't going to be a pushover…ever. But, what was going on with this person?

"What's up with you?" I said, spinning around.

"Are you still there?" she asked, looking up again, right into my eyes. This time, I met her gaze. She had dark eyes. It was as if there was no differentiation between her pupils and her irises. I had never seen eyes so dark. She exhibited a type of aloofness that only came from someone untouchable.

"Listen, I saw you in the tree that day. Sorry I didn't help," I said, finally allowing me to admit what I had been feeling for weeks.
"I don't need help. I can take care of myself," she said, getting up to walk off.

"Is that why you were in a tree?" I asked, sort of chuckling and immediately wishing I could retract the statement.

"You do what you gotta do," she said turning away from me.

"How's your Mom?" I asked, showing her that I knew more about the situation than she thought.
"She died," she said, still refusing to turn around. "Well, she got sent to prison first. But, she died after she got there."

I was left with a loss for words at this one. What do you say to that? I didn't know this girl. All I knew at this point were some lies she told me and a 2nd hand police report.

"My Mom died too," I said. It was all I could think of to say. Which, realizing now, probably was not the best additive. But, I never talked about my Mom to anyone. It hurt too much. It was strange I brought this up to a perfect stranger.

She turned around. I could see her struggling to fight back tears. This was a weird encounter. I felt comfortable around her. I appreciated, as young as she was, that she wasn't going to accept any of my cocky bullshit. She threw it right back at me. I appreciated that she could get me to come out with the truth. I appreciated that she made me realize how good my life had been. But, damn, why did I care about talking to her so much? I've never let people make me feel that guilty.

She didn't cry. That was the thing about Letty. She kept it all inside. I guess that was how she managed to have full conversations with just her eyes. That was where all her emotions were. And, if you knew her, you could just look in her eyes and tell exactly how she was feeling. It was pretty amazing, actually. But, at this point in our relationship, not knowing her and all, I was a little taken back.

What she said next was the most shocking thing of all…

TBC

----

I'm pretty excited about where this one is going to go. Feel free to review. Feedback is always nice.

AJ