Runaways by Nicole Dykes
Senior Year
“Just open it.” Lawson cocks a brow at me, being stubborn as usual as he looks at the bag in his lap. It’s a shitty plastic bag I found, a far cry from the beautifully wrapped Christmas present I gave him so many months ago.
But it works.
I’m learning to just lean into this situation and go with what works. Because today, Lawson is eighteen. And we’re celebrating.
Even though it’s out on the street, and the sun is starting to go down, taking the heat of the day with it. It’s okay. We have some blankets and hoodies. Hayden sprang for a cake at the bakery, and we actually ate real food tonight. Food we earned at the pizza place doing dishes in exchange for a pizza. Totally worth it.
They won’t hire us because none of us have IDs. Hayden apparently never got his license or anything before he ran and has no proof of who he is. And Law and I, for obvious reasons.
But still, I’m smiling and smiling big. Because we have full bellies, and there’s cake and presents. And I have the man I love.
This summer was rough. It was hot as hell, but we took advantage of some cooler places when the sun got to be too much, keeping our heads down and hiding our faces as much as we could. At night, we’d strip down to what we could without getting into trouble and laid out under the city stars.
We made it.
I’m learning that Lawson and I can make it through anything. And you know, with help from our guardian angel.
Lawson opens the bag, and then his head tips to the side as he eyes me. “Spray paint?”
I nod, looking behind us at the brick. “I think our home could use some sprucing up.”
He chuckles pulling out all nine of the cans of spray paint. “Did you steal these, Rae?”
I hold up my hands in mock innocence even though I’m not lying when I say, “No. I found them.”
Hayden cackles at that, and I smack him playfully. “I did!” I lay my head on Law’s shoulder. “I was walking behind that hardware store a couple of blocks down—”
Lawson interrupts me, “When? By yourself?”
I sit up and place a calming hand on his shoulder. We’ve come a long way over the summer, but at the end of the day, Law is never going to stop trying to protect me. “It was when you and Hayden found that job a couple of weeks ago. I was with Isabel and her kids. I was fine.”
He lets out a relieved breath and finally chills out a bit. “Okay. Why did they throw all these out?”
I lean back against the brick wall, kicking my feet out in front of me, feeling oddly more at home out on the street than I ever did in my house. “I think they’re slightly damaged. Tested out in the store or something, but they’re pretty full.”
He grins, wide enough for me to see a flash of the boy I knew and first fell in love with, grabbing my face in his hands and planting a big kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”
I’m beaming with happiness when he pulls away. “You two are gross,” Hayden says, but he’s grinning as he lights a match and sticks it in the cake in place of a candle. “Better hurry up and make a wish, birthday boy.”
Law looks at me and then at the cake, breathing in deep, and then he blows out the match. We share the cake with a few people around us and settle in to nibble on our own pieces. I lean on Law and smile, knowing it’s bizarre to feel this happy when nothing in our life is certain.
When we don’t have a roof over our heads.
“So, anything else I can get you, birthday boy?” Hayden asks, that signature shit-eating grin on his pretty face.
“A job. A steady job.” Lawson finishes his cake, and I feel the tension in his shoulders because the worry is still there.
Hayden thinks it over, finishing off his bite of cake. “Well, you’re eighteen now. Maybe you could get a job in a bar around here. Or a restaurant.”
“No IDs. We can’t.”
Hayden’s eyebrow lifts in question. “You two didn’t murder someone, did you?”
I laugh at that and shake my head, tossing my crumpled up napkin at him. “You know everything.”
And he does. He’s our best friend, and we trust him. Maybe it was naïve to trust him as soon as we did, but it’s worked out. “Hmmm . . .” He scratches his chin. “I can get you both IDs.”
Law sits up a little straighter. “What do you mean? We’ve known you for how long? And you never said anything before?”
Hayden’s shoulder lifts, unbothered and definitely not afraid of Law, which he shouldn’t be. “It costs a lot.”
“How much?” I ask.
“Like five hundred each.”
Law groans and leans his head back. “Oh.”
I turn to Lawson, not giving up hope. “We have about that much.”
“That’s all we have, Rae. That would clean us out.”
Hayden moves to sit on Law’s other side. “I could maybe work for it.” He looks sheepish as he tips his head down, and I hate the shame there. Lawson and I would never judge him, but still, Law and I are adamant that he’ll never sell himself again.
“No.” Lawson’s deep voice is authoritative now. “That’s not happening.”
He puffs out annoyed air. “I don’t mind it. And it could lead you guys to a real job.”
“If it’s that easy to get the money, why don’t you have your own ID?” Lawson asks, and I can tell by his tone he’s still not entertaining the idea.
“I don’t know. I never thought I’d be a good bartender or whatever the hell real jobs are out there. I’m a hustler by nature. It’s what I’m good at.”
“You’re more than that.” I smile at Law’s words because he’s good. He doesn’t even know how good he is, but he sees the beauty in people.
I think that’s why he’s such a good artist.
He sees the beauty in everything.
I focus on Lawson. “Maybe we should do it. Take a gamble on the IDs. Get real jobs and get us a cute, quirky apartment where you can paint all day. Hayden and I can be your muses.”
Hayden laughs at that. “You’d take me with you?”
I lock eyes with him and roll mine. “Duh.”
He laughs, and Law seems to be in deep thought. “Okay.” He turns to Hayden. “Let’s do it.”
“All of your money?”
It took us a long time and a lot of odd jobs to make that money, but Lawson nods his head cautiously.
“Why not gamble? It’ll be okay.”
Hope spreads throughout me for the first time in a really long time.
Which may be the most terrifying thing in the world.
