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Authors: Michelle Heeter
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nice restaurants with outside tables, but I don’t want to blow all my pocket money on one meal. Anyway, they’d probably think I was weird if I walked in all by myself.
I walk back toward the station, passing a tattoo parlour with bikies hanging around outside. I don’t look at them. They might be harmless, but you never know. I don’t look too closely at the strip clubs, either. Normally, the men standing outside try to invite people inside, but when I walk past, they either pretend not to see me or else look a bit concerned.
‘You all right, there, miss?’ a big Samoan guy asks me quietly. Usually, when someone says that in an area like this, what they really mean is, I’ve got drugs to sell, if you want to buy any. But this guy really does seem to care if I’m all right. He probably thinks I’m a runaway or a street kid.
There are men who would pay to have sex with someone as young as me, or who’d force themselves on someone as young as me, even though I’m nothing special to look at. Half a block back, some skinny moll in a tube top, tight shorts, and thigh-high boots gave me the evil eye like I was a competitor. Yeah, right. I’m wearing no makeup, my hair smells like chlorine, and I’m carrying a backpack. Who’d think I was on the game?
I ignored the moll, but I smile at the Samoan. ‘I’m just getting some takeaway,’ I tell him. The Samoan guy seems nice; I wouldn’t mind talking to him some more. But I keep walking.
I’m almost back to the station and still haven’t found any place I want to eat. I end up standing in front of a pizza place I passed by earlier. I look at the pizzas in the glass case. They have sausage, peperoni, Hawaiian, and vegetarian. The vegetarian pizza is still round and perfect; nobody has taken a slice yet. Three-fifty a slice, the sign says. I pull a five-dollar note from my back pocket and look for a shop assistant. There are two young Asian girls and one young Asian guy behind the counter, but no one makes a move to ask what I want.
‘Excuse me,’ I say. A girl standing next to the cash register looks at me and blinks. The other girl walks into the back room, then walks back out again. The boy is sitting at the table doing nothing. All of them have a kind of glazed look in their eyes.
‘Ex -cuse me,’ I say a little louder. ‘Could I get a slice of vegetarian, please?’
The girl who came out of the back room says something to the boy in Vietnamese or whatever, and he says something back. She says something to the girl standing next to the cash register, who looks over her shoulder, then slowly turns her head back to me and tries to get her eyes to focus.
I put the five-dollar note on the counter. ‘Veg-e-tar-i-an,’ I say, loudly. ‘ One slice.’
The girl has no idea what I want. She makes a squeaking noise that means, ‘What?’
I point at the pizza and make a ‘one’ sign with my index finger.
The girl finally gets it and picks up a pair of tongs. She grabs a piece of pizza, drops it on the floor, and shrieks. The boy at the table gabbles at her in Vietnamese, then gabbles something at the girl who keeps going in and out of the back room. She grabs the tongs and puts another slice of pizza in a paper bag for me. The first girl just stands there looking at the floor where she dropped the first piece. I’m annoyed that the slice I got was the second slice from the pizza, not the first slice. I push the five dollar note to the second girl, who has to think a minute before she can work out how much change to give me. I pull some serviettes from a dispenser and leave in disgust.
Chapter 15
I get back to the Refuge just five minutes before eight. Lyyssa is in the kitchen with Cinnamon, drying the dishes from dinner. ‘Just in time, Len,’ she says to me, looking at the clock.
‘I’m never late, am I?’ I say.
‘No, you’re not,’ Lyyssa says. ‘But we missed you at dinner.’ Cinnamon gives me a nasty look meaning she didn’t miss
I walk back toward the station, passing a tattoo parlour with bikies hanging around outside. I don’t look at them. They might be harmless, but you never know. I don’t look too closely at the strip clubs, either. Normally, the men standing outside try to invite people inside, but when I walk past, they either pretend not to see me or else look a bit concerned.
‘You all right, there, miss?’ a big Samoan guy asks me quietly. Usually, when someone says that in an area like this, what they really mean is, I’ve got drugs to sell, if you want to buy any. But this guy really does seem to care if I’m all right. He probably thinks I’m a runaway or a street kid.
There are men who would pay to have sex with someone as young as me, or who’d force themselves on someone as young as me, even though I’m nothing special to look at. Half a block back, some skinny moll in a tube top, tight shorts, and thigh-high boots gave me the evil eye like I was a competitor. Yeah, right. I’m wearing no makeup, my hair smells like chlorine, and I’m carrying a backpack. Who’d think I was on the game?
I ignored the moll, but I smile at the Samoan. ‘I’m just getting some takeaway,’ I tell him. The Samoan guy seems nice; I wouldn’t mind talking to him some more. But I keep walking.
I’m almost back to the station and still haven’t found any place I want to eat. I end up standing in front of a pizza place I passed by earlier. I look at the pizzas in the glass case. They have sausage, peperoni, Hawaiian, and vegetarian. The vegetarian pizza is still round and perfect; nobody has taken a slice yet. Three-fifty a slice, the sign says. I pull a five-dollar note from my back pocket and look for a shop assistant. There are two young Asian girls and one young Asian guy behind the counter, but no one makes a move to ask what I want.
‘Excuse me,’ I say. A girl standing next to the cash register looks at me and blinks. The other girl walks into the back room, then walks back out again. The boy is sitting at the table doing nothing. All of them have a kind of glazed look in their eyes.
‘Ex -cuse me,’ I say a little louder. ‘Could I get a slice of vegetarian, please?’
The girl who came out of the back room says something to the boy in Vietnamese or whatever, and he says something back. She says something to the girl standing next to the cash register, who looks over her shoulder, then slowly turns her head back to me and tries to get her eyes to focus.
I put the five-dollar note on the counter. ‘Veg-e-tar-i-an,’ I say, loudly. ‘ One slice.’
The girl has no idea what I want. She makes a squeaking noise that means, ‘What?’
I point at the pizza and make a ‘one’ sign with my index finger.
The girl finally gets it and picks up a pair of tongs. She grabs a piece of pizza, drops it on the floor, and shrieks. The boy at the table gabbles at her in Vietnamese, then gabbles something at the girl who keeps going in and out of the back room. She grabs the tongs and puts another slice of pizza in a paper bag for me. The first girl just stands there looking at the floor where she dropped the first piece. I’m annoyed that the slice I got was the second slice from the pizza, not the first slice. I push the five dollar note to the second girl, who has to think a minute before she can work out how much change to give me. I pull some serviettes from a dispenser and leave in disgust.
Chapter 15
I get back to the Refuge just five minutes before eight. Lyyssa is in the kitchen with Cinnamon, drying the dishes from dinner. ‘Just in time, Len,’ she says to me, looking at the clock.
‘I’m never late, am I?’ I say.
‘No, you’re not,’ Lyyssa says. ‘But we missed you at dinner.’ Cinnamon gives me a nasty look meaning she didn’t miss
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