I wake up every morning with the feeling that things will get better. No matter what my day is like, things can’t get any worse. I’ve always had the same outlook on life, optimistic and cheerful, even though my situation is quite unfortunate. Does that stop me? No. Not at all. I’ve never been one to dwell on uncontrollable destinies. I believe things happen for a reason and…..maybe this is happening to me now to make way for the greatness that has yet to come. What that greatness is?

Who knows.

Ooh! What if it’s a white horse with a long, beautiful mane of snow white? No? How about a queen from some unknown Polynesian island who wants to summon me as a rightful heir to her island’s throne? Hey, it could happen. Regardless, something exciting is going to happen for me. I can feel it. There’s hope for me yet. Hope for the girl without a home.

I’m homeless.

It’s only been, uhhhh, two years, probably. I don’t really keep track since it all feels like twenty years, anyway. How did I, a now newly twenty-one year old young woman, become homeless? It’s not as unbelievable as many think, but here goes.

From ages fifteen to eighteen, I was in foster care. My mother had passed away, car accident, and my dad was overseas on active duty so he wasn’t able to take care of me. At this time, the military’s grip on my dad tightened, he was stuck at a crossroad. But, my dad did his best to place me with a good family while he was gone, and for the most part, he succeeded. Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez were amongst the very few people that took in children because they genuinely loved and wanted to help them. They had three children of their own, Marvin 21, Mariana 20, and Milagros 18, who had just left for college at the time of my arrival. I loved them all and I can honestly say they treated me like their baby sister.

I lived two good years in that house, well, two and half. Tio and Tia Sanchez, good people….great people. But in the progress of completing my third year, things changed. Angelo Trujillo. He was Puerto Rican kid from Jersey who got shipped to the Sanchez home. Angelo was on the verge of 17, hell of a juvenile rap sheet, and a death stare that terrified our younger foster brother and sister. I personally never had time for death stares. Angelo was no strapping gentleman, but he had the face of a pretty boy. Needless to say, the kid was hot. Besides living together and going to school, Angelo and I were never together. We rarely spoke to each other, but it was obvious that he took a…..liking to me.

One night, the Sanchez’s and our siblings Jayden and Zena went out. Angelo and I didn’t choose to go, his reason I didn’t know, but mine was simple, I wanted to be alone. For hours, he was in his room, I was in mine. Since nature called, I got up and went out into the hallway, where the bathroom we had to share was. As I was about to step back into the hallway, Angelo was standing there, towering above me.

“Move,” I said.

“I don’t want to.”

“Angelo, if this is flirting……”

“I don’t need to flirt.”

He took his index finger and began a trail from my chin, down my neck, and to my shoulder, moving my bra strap. At first, I was calm….uncertain, really. He leaned down to kiss me and grabbed my breast. I smacked his hand away, moving backward. He charged me. Little did Angelo know, my dad taught me self defense and my mom matured it with classes. I protected my safety and ran to my room, barricading myself in. I cried as I wrote a letter to my foster parents and my dad. I left it at:

I can’t be here longer. Don’t come looking for me, I’ll be in touch. I love you all.

I packed all that I could and fled, never looking back. I didn’t report Angelo because I don’t think he meant harm, he just came on too strong. I guess in the environment he grew up in, women liked the aggressiveness. I, on the other hand, couldn’t take any chances because I didn’t know what he was going to do. It only took ONE time. I know everyone’s been worried and I’m sure they all think I’m dead, but I can’t go back to what could still be waiting for me. My looks changed over two years, so I know that possibility is what they’ve settled for. I know it seems that it would be easy just to go back, but it’s not. I’d have to explain why I left, and it would turn into this HUGE thing, that I just didn’t want to be apart of. I’ll make it out of the streets on my own, and when I have my own place secured, I’ll go back. I’ve done well to survive for two years. I’ve kept clean and found ways to keep food. I’ve snuck into new, unoccupied homes and took showers and kept shelter. It’s wrong, but I did what I had to.

Chapter One.

“Mornin’ John!” I greeted as I walked into the shelter.

“Morning!”

“Mornin’ Mrs. Lobowitz!”

“Hey sweetie! You better hightail it, Gretel has something special for you.”

“Thanks, see you later.”

I began to jog down the hall and into the eating area. I pushed open the double doors that led to the kitchen, calling for my favorite chef.

“Back here!”

“Hey Gretel, Mrs. Lobowitz said you had a surprise for me?”

Gretel looked around and dug into her pockets. I saw a wad of money unfold in her hands. I gasped.

“Wh--”

“Shh! Here, take it. Indulge in real food other than here and save the rest. Got it?”

“Gretel, I can’t take this!” I whispered.

“Not under negotiation, go do what I told you.”

I threw my arms around her, she held back tightly. When I pulled away, she was wiping her eyes. I almost choked up.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome, now go on.”

I turned and headed out the door. I needed to find somewhere private. When I got there, I counted the money. 500 dollars. Gretel gave me 500 dollars.

“I’m not gonna cry,” I said as I wiped away my tears.

Gretel was the first person I met after leaving the Sanchez’s. She was a first generation Dutch-American, 55, and by far one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. She always looked out for me and had my back. She was the only person who knew my real name. I trusted her. And from her sweet gesture, I know why.

I walked down the sidewalk, thinking of how I’d pay Gretel back, when I caught the glimpse of a café. I’m clean, I can go in. The entire place was lit by small lamps on each table. The air filled with quiet chatter, the smell of food, and the sounds of a live band playing.

“Wow…,” I whispered.

I looked around, and then walked over to the register where the food was located. I had my eyes on a piece of cake and a strawberry chai frappucino, topped with whipped cream and a bit of ice left. As I was about to order, a tall, white guy came and stepped in front of me. What the hell?

“Um, excuse me, sir,” I said.

He whipped around and looked at me.

“Yes?” he answered.

“I was here first, you cut in front of me,” I said politely.

“I didn’t see you,” he responded.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t here,” I snapped.

I couldn’t see him very well due to the lighting, but he had on black-rimmed glasses, a gray beanie and was wearing a black pea-coat over his shirt and black pants. Hmph. Some rude, rich guy.

“Well, I didn’t see you.”

“Look, just go ahead.” I spun on my heels and began to walk away. “Asshole.”

“I’m sorry?”

I quickly spun back around on my heels.

“I called you an asshole,” I answered.

“Look lady, I said I didn’t see you. There’s no need to name call.”

“Look man, I told you I was there. I expect that from someone like you, so whatever.”

I rolled my eyes and headed out the door. I was now in a bad mood AND without cake and a frap because of this jerk. I’ll find somewhere el—

“Someone like me? Lady, you know nothing about me!”

He threw himself in front of me and his face came more clearly into view. He had eyes that looked baby blue, and the hair specks of a dirty blonde showed from where the beanie didn’t cover. He looked quite good, really good, but I’m too angry to care.

“What’s to know?! You walk in with your pea coat and expensive glasses, and you cut right in front of me like I don’t exist!”

“For the last time, I didn’t see you! Honest to God! That doesn’t give you the right to make untrue assumptions about me.”

“It gives me every right since you cut me in line!”

He sighed heavily and took off his beanie, showing all the light and dark blondes of his hair as the sun rays beamed on it.

“Fine, I’ll buy you whatever you want in there, okay? I’m sorry.”

I was ready to retaliate, but I saw the genuine look of ‘sorry’ on his face.

“Fine.”

I followed him back inside and ordered. While he paid, I stood, bobbing from left to right. Trying to calm myself. I saw a bag and frap held in front of my face. I took them.

“Thank you,” I said curtly as I started to walk.

“Hey.”

I stopped.

“Are you too good to at least stay and join me for breakfast?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“It’s the least you can do, since I did buy you breakfast.”

“If you’re gonna throw that in my face…”

“I’m only joking. Geez. Please join me.”

He smiled and a shock struck the core of my stomach. I pulled out the chair at his table and sat down across from him. He was right. It WAS nice of him to offer AND buy me breakfast. Especially after I said those things about him. Which I SO meant because I was irritated.

I kept my eyes wandering around the room and once I felt that his eyes were also elsewhere, I studied him. I watched how he handled his food. Very polite. Napkin over his lap, neat eating, closed mouth while chewing. Very nice etiquette.

“I honestly did not see you, it’s a bit dark in here. But I do apologize,” I said.

“Thank you, I accept your apology. And I’m sorry for what I said to you. I was angry and…”

“It’s cool, thank you. So I haven’t seen you in here before. Are you new in town?” he asked.

“No, not really, I’ve been here for awhile. I just never came in here before.”

“Ah, had to be something. I don’t really argue with the regulars.”

“I had to defend myself, but as I remember, you kept egging me on.”

“I didn’t egg, I sort of twitched. You hit a nerve with that “someone like you” line.”

I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say? I opened the plastic container with my cake and took a bite.

“Mmm, oh God that’s good.”

I heard a small chuckle and looked up. Did I say that out loud? From the looks of his smile, I’m guessing I did. Of all the embarrassing things to do, I showed how gluttonous I was. I looked up again to study him, but found, instead, that he was studying me.

“What..?” I asked.

“You….um, you have really nice brown eyes,” he replied.

“Thank you, I didn’t know it was easy to see in here.”

“It’s not….I noticed when we were outside.”

My eyes shot down to my beverage. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. He noticed when we were outside? Weren’t we arguing then?

“Um, I’d better be going. Thanks for the breakfast…”

“Justin.”

“Justin.”

“And you are?” he asked.

“Varrett. Like Barrett, just with a V.”

I told him my real name? I told him my real name.

“Varrett. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

I stood up and grabbed my things, wanting to disappear before he asked me about anything else.

“Maybe.”

Varrett. Why did that name sound so familiar to me? I swear I’ve heard it before. Hmm. Oh well. Regardless, she was cute. I guess I found her annoyed manner, very attractive. I’ve never had anyone stand up to me like that, even if I was intentionally wrong. In this case, though, I swear I didn’t see her. She blended in so well with her dark clothes and brown hair; not to mention I could see over her entire body. My nice gesture in hope of getting her number, though, didn’t work. She booked it out of there before I could ask.

I know, how could I want her number after she called me an asshole? Well, that’s just it. She has an independent streak and courage in her that I noticed right off the back. I admire it. It’s appealing. Not to mention, she denied breakfast with me. Not to sound cocky, but I don’t know many women that’d pass up breakfast with me. It’s obvious she doesn’t know who I am, or does know and just doesn’t care. Either way, I like it. I like that my status means nothing to her. I can be myself and nothing else, without her expecting me to throw her into the spotlight. As far as I can tell, this Varrett girl doesn’t like when the attention is on her, good or bad. I should’ve offered to walk with her. She looks so young, legal of course, but still quite young. I’ve never seen her anywhere near the café, so what made her decide to come in? I’ve been sneaking in here for the past two years and have never had a problem, until today.

Guess, I didn’t mind that problem…..

I don’t believe that I met her for no reason. I could’ve prevented our little spat, yet I didn’t. I was so taken aback by her remarks, I just went ahead. Once we were outside and I realized she didn’t know or care who “Justin Timberlake” was, I surrendered. The moment she didn’t back down once she saw my face, I was sure that she was someone I had to know.

I knew that “different” was beyond her definition.