Read Online Less Than Nothing by R.E. Blake - Free Book Online Page B

see you sweat.
    The truth is, I haven’t got a clue what I want to be when I grow up. I debate telling him the simple answer, but my mouth has decided to take this moment to revolt, joining the rest of my body in conspiring against me.
    “Wow, Derek. That’s the big one, isn’t it?” I take a sip of my soda dregs to buy myself time to think. “You know, I left home, and just getting as far as I could as fast as possible was all I focused on. Then, when I arrived here, that changed overnight to surviving. I mean, I had this idea I could make it on the street without too much of a problem, but the first night, when I got propositioned a dozen times and then followed by a pimp who wouldn’t take no for an answer and wound up having to hang out all night in front of the police station…it’s like reality hit, and suddenly it wasn’t escaping home anymore. Ever since then I’ve been living day to day, trying to stay positive, making money where I can. I haven’t thought about anything past today. I completely know that’s reckless and kinda stupid, but it’s the truth.”
    That’s the most I’ve ever said to him, or really to anyone since leaving home. When I finish, my chest feels tight and my eyes burn. I blink away the emotions that are rushing unbidden to the surface. Emotions are a luxury I can’t afford. Emotions make you soft. Emotions can get you killed, or taken advantage of, or ruin your life.
    Derek seems to understand. He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, and when he does, it’s almost a whisper. “Fair enough. But you’re safe right now. We have a roof over our heads till this dump closes, we made some good money today, and we’ve got full bellies. Take your time and think about it. What do you want to be? If you could have anything?”
    He looks at Elvis, the tattoo’s lip curled in the most famous sneer in history, and I’m again envious of his reminder.
    “What about you?” I fire back. This isn’t fun anymore. Being on the receiving end of tough questions isn’t something I’m good at.
    “That’s not how this works,” he chides. “You owe me an answer.”
    “I gave you one.”
    He shakes his head. “No, you told me why you can’t give me an answer. Which is fine. But you owe me an answer, Sage.” He seems exasperated, but quickly covers it up with a cough. “Maybe not now, not tonight, but a deal’s a deal.”
    My eyes well with moisture, and I turn away. He sounds hurt. Worse, he sounds disappointed. It’s a tone I hate. My mother’s tone.
    He waves to the server for the check and places both hands flat on the table, palms down.
    “Sage, there are billions of people walking around. All of them trying to have the best possible life they can. But most of them are so caught up surviving, on being what they have to be to get a little ahead, that they don’t dream. They don’t have a passion to chase. We, on the other hand, don’t have any responsibilities. All we have to do is make some money so we can eat and dream big dreams.”
    It’s all just words. And I’ve heard about enough of his voice to last me a while. I reach into my backpack to pull out my bag of coins, which I’m sure will give the waiter a stroke, and that brightens my dark thoughts.
    The check arrives. Twenty-six dollars. I expected worse, and even after paying I’ll have more than I can remember for a long time.
    Derek reaches for the bill, and I move it out of range. “It’s on me, Mr. Maybe-or-maybe-not Birthday Boy.”
    He doesn’t say anything, only pulls his wad of bills out of his pocket and peels off thirty. “Do me a favor,” he says. “You can owe me the money. Give it to me later. But I don’t want to leave a mound of coins a foot high for them to deal with, okay? I come here too often – I’ll never live it down.”
    I quickly figure out how long it will take to count out thirty dollars in quarters, dimes, and nickels, and nod agreement. Since most of my meals cost three or