Girls Love Travis Walker

by Anne Pfeffer

  “In the principal’s office. At Perdido High. They said you weren’t enrolled there anymore.” A strange half-smile lit his face.

  It was over. I was caught. I had lost my home, and now I would lose my chance for a decent future. But I was sick of lying and sneaking around. “I had to quit school. To work full-time. I went there last year, though.”

  “But Discoverers is for high school students! Is that why you lied? To be in the program?”

  I was so tired. I wanted to be at Zoey’s. I wanted to fall asleep with her arms around me. “I never said I was currently enrolled at Perdido. People just assumed it.”

  “And you let them!”

  The triumph on his face creeped me out. “It just sort of happened,” I muttered. What would he do now? My knees felt weak, so I put a hand on the wall to steady myself. “You’re gonna tell Perkins?”

  He snorted. “Are you saying I shouldn’t? I’m supposed to keep your secret?”

  “No. You’re not.” My head ached from the fluorescent lights glaring off the white tile of the bathroom.

  “You’re gonna tell him,” Brandon said. “Today. Or I will.” He turned on his heel and left.

  I followed him down the corridor and out to the training yard. Perkins wasn’t there, so I went to look for him in his office. Not there.

  “He’s taking a few days off,” said a firefighter who happened to be walking by.

  My feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. I dragged myself out to the training yard and pulled Brandon aside. “Perkins isn’t here. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I’d like him to hear this from me. In person. Would you keep this quiet until then?”

  “What about today? You’re staying for the training?”

  I shrugged. “I guess.” I wanted to punch the kid’s lights out. He could act all perfect and make a big deal about how I was such a bad guy, but he had no real problems. He wouldn’t be sleeping in his car any time soon.

  He didn’t give a shit about the program. He didn’t hold the fire service as his hope for a decent future, like I did. I was good at this, dammit. I loved it.

  Brandon stared at me, his eyes mocking me.

  “Gimme a break,” I said. “I’ll stay for training today, and I’ll tell Perkins as soon as I see him. Okay?”

  “All right.” He didn’t sound happy about it.

  Passion

  “What’s wrong?” It was the first thing Zoey said as she opened her door for me.

  So much for keeping a poker face. “Do I look like something’s wrong?” I stepped through the door and reached for her.

  “You look like a truck just missed hitting you.” She put her arms around my waist, her face nuzzling my chest. “Stunned.”

  Well, I’m homeless now and about to get thrown out of the Discoverers program, meaning I’ll probably lose you too, but otherwise, I’m fine.

  “No truck, but boy, am I glad to see you.” I lifted her up, so I could kiss her, hard, using my tongue, our mouths open, her feet now off the ground. “God, you smell good,” I said. “You taste good. I could just have you for dinner.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, breathless, her teeth grazing my neck.

  A second later, my t-shirt hit the floor.

  She put out her hand and ran it over my bare chest. Her fingers drove me nuts as they moved across my skin. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first saw you.” She sounded awestruck. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I had to say, I was in the best shape of my life. Six percent body fat, with every muscle defined and hardened through heavy labor. Zoey gulped and ran her hands along my arms.

  It excited me almost more than I could stand. This beautiful girl who I loved, her lips, her hair, the safety and comfort of her home…. I wonder if Brandon’s told anyone? I squashed the thought. Right now, for this moment anyway, I would push everything else… not out of my mind, but into a corner at least.

  “I thought you didn’t like me at first,” I said.

  “I didn’t. I thought you were a pain, asking me to run notes to Kat. But I also thought you were drop dead gorgeous.”

  “But…. you like me now?” My voice cracked.

  “Yeah.” Looking up at me, open and sincere. “I do.”

  Reaching for the lower edge of her shirt, I eased it up over her head and arms. Her hair came out of the shirt in a mass of crackling static, which she tried to pat down while my eyes caressed her pinky-white shoulders and arms.

  She wore a white bra that was really plain, with this simple lace along the edge. I caught my breath.

  “That lace is hot.” I traced my finger along the edge where the lace met her skin, then followed the same path with my tongue and lips, while Zoey stood, head thrown back, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

  The bra came off as I fell to my knees and buried my face in her breasts, her fingers now weaving through my hair.

  She had the easy pull-off kind of pants, which flew away into a corner. Bikini underwear that matched the bra. “That lace again!” I nibbled along the edge of lace that ran low along her belly, then slipped a finger in the waistband and pulled down, while she laughed and gasped at the same time. Off came the panties.

  “You’re gorgeous.” I kissed her hip and waist, moving up and coming to my feet while her hands went to the button of my jeans. She hadn’t seen me naked yet. She pulled off my briefs almost shyly, then stepped back to have a look.

  Watching Zoey look at my naked body for the first time was the most exciting thing I’d ever seen. I think my dick tripled in size right before her eyes. I half-tackled her and we staggered over to the bed together.

  Suddenly modest, she pulled a sheet over us as we lay down together, kissing and touching each other’s bodies.

  “Zoey” I said into her shoulder. “Do know how much you turn me on? You’re so freaking hot.”

  A dinging noise from a timer in the kitchen.

  “Oh, no! The pot roast.”

  “Fuck the pot roast.”

  “Let me just take it out of the oven.” She eyed the distance between the bed and the kitchen and then looked over at her clothes lying scattered on the floor.

  “Don’t mind me,” I said, smirking and lying back on the pillows with my hands behind my head.

  She shot me a mock glare. “You’re going to watch?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  She wavered for a minute, but then her shoulders squared and her face got that expression that I knew meant Step out of the way; Zoey’s on a mission.

  Tossing back the sheet, she sauntered off to the kitchen, moving her ass from side to side and throwing me a saucy look over her shoulder as she pulled the pot roast from the oven. She turned and sashayed back toward me, her eyes lit up and dancing with fun, her lower lip caught in her teeth.

  I didn’t say anything because I was falling in love all over again with this funny, fearless, amazing girl. When she reached the bed, I flipped her so she was on her back and I was up on my elbow, leaning over her, drinking in her face, her warm eyes, her small pink mouth. She was just as hot, ready, and wanting it as I was.

  “I’m on the pill.” Her hands moved downward from my chest, making me crazy.

  “Good. I’ll use a condom anyway.” I was clean but had an unbreakable no-condom-no-sex policy.

  “But….”

  “For now, it’s better that way. It’s safer for you.” I smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear with my finger.

  Tenderness filled her eyes. “You’re so good to me, Travis.”

  “Baby.” I got out the words with difficulty. “I haven’t even started being good to you.”

  We reached for each other at the same time.

  ##

  Zoey was still asleep when I woke up. I lay there for a minute, trying to reconcile all the odd, ill-fitting jigsaw puzzle pieces of my life. It didn’t make sense that I was so happy and in love and in so much trouble and so scared all at the same time.

  I was starving. I lo
oked over at Zoey, who lay on her side with her back toward me. The slope of her waist and hip seemed like some miracle of nature, like the Grand Canyon, except way more interesting. I wanted to kiss my way along that slope and wake her up for Sunday morning sex.

  I let her sleep. Slipping out of bed, strangely restless, I picked my jeans and felt an unfamiliar lump in my front pocket. It was cash, my pay from Benny.

  I had just discovered the bright side to getting evicted. I didn’t have to pay rent.

  Which meant that, for the first time in a long while, I had a pocketful of spending money. I was so used to handing all my pay over to Mrs. M that I felt suddenly, bizarrely rich.

  Thinking of Benny, I checked my voice mail. Nothing from him. He’d for sure gotten my message by now. His silence must mean he was okay with my borrowing the chain saw, right?

  I pulled on my clothes and left, leaving a note for Zoey and her front door unlocked. It felt good to enter the Milt’s Bagels down the street just like a normal person would, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go in and pick up breakfast.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was back at Zoey’s with two bagel/scrambled egg combinations, orange juices, and coffees. Zoey was standing at the table in a big t-shirt, reading my note.

  “Hey!” She took the bag from me, set it on the table, and crawled into my arms.

  “I brought you breakfast.”

  “Thanks. We never got to the pot roast, did we?”

  We sat crosslegged on the bed, stuffing ourselves, then lay down, hugging each other. Zoey toyed with my belly button then slid her hand south while I groaned, instantly on fire but also worried about the time. I thought of the partially cleared lot that I’d started yesterday and had to finish today, so I could return the chainsaw to Benny tomorrow. “I better go. Sorry. I wish I could stay.”

  “Is there something you have to do?”

  “Yeah. It’s, um, for my mom.”

  “Okay.” The word hung there, as if to say Are you going to tell me what it is? But I didn’t.

  “No problem,” she said after a second. “I have a test to study for anyway. So I’ll just see you at work tomorrow, okay?”

  We kissed for a while, and I went down to my car, and then I ran back up and kissed her some more in her open doorway. As I drove away, my thoughts turned to the day ahead, a little ball of nerves forming in my chest.

  Tonight, there would be no hot, tender moments with Zoey.

  I would sleep in my car.

  Dirty

  For ten hours, I worked until every muscle in my back and shoulders quivered. My arms aching, I slashed through branches and bark with my contraband chainsaw, pulled networks of knotted roots from the ground, and tossed all of it into the dumpsters I’d asked Maggie to get me. And that was just the tree. I also cut and bagged the weeds and grass from the rest of the lot, working methodically, not daring to take a break or slow down for fear I wouldn’t finish the job today.

  Working alone was so much harder than with a crew, as I was used to. With no one to talk to, my mind gnawed through the hard question of where to sleep tonight.

  By eight o’clock, as I raked the empty lot smooth by streetlight, my legs shook under me and my lungs burned, as if I’d run a marathon.

  When Maggie came out to see the finished job, she shook her head in admiration. “I never thought a patch of dirt would look beautiful to me! You’ve saved us so much time and money—it means a lot, Travis.”

  “You took my mom in. It worked out for both of us.”

  She beamed at me. “It did, didn’t it?” Her face clouded then. “I wish I had more to tell you about your mother’s health. She’ll have a doctor’s appointment next week; that’s the soonest we could schedule it.”

  “It’s okay.” I’d been to see Mom and found her chatting a little with her roommates and getting out of bed occasionally for one or two hours.

  “It’s so nice here, Travis,” she’d said. “Tell me about your place.”

  “It’s really good, Mom,” I’d said, grateful that she wasn’t well enough to suggest a trip over to see my fictional home.

  I loaded up the chain saw and took off for the shower at the Community Center. Every part of me hurt. I was filthier than I’d ever been, like an avalanche with eyes. Dirt caked my hair all the way down to the roots and made gritty sounds between my teeth. It had gotten inside all my clothes. Even my socks and briefs had dirt in them.

  All I could think of right now was a shower, almost feeling the hot water pounding my body, washing away dirt and pain.

  The door was locked. A sign that I’d never noticed before said the facilities closed at eight.

  I pulled on the door handle, hard, more out of anger and frustration than anything else. I had to have a shower. Now. As I pulled, loose dirt fell from my arms and clothes, powdering the concrete under my feet.

  I wanted to beat down the door, but forced myself to think. I walked around the small building which housed the bathroom and shower facility, looking for a way in. The building had no alarm system, from what I saw.

  It was wrong, what I was doing—I knew it. Breaking and entering. But I was going to get in there. Period.

  A small window caught my eye. It was open an inch. When I couldn’t remove the screen, I pulled a little jack knife from my pocket and carefully cut it from its frame, then slid the glass open. It screeched a bit, making me stop a couple of times and wait, scared someone had heard me.

  I was lucky to get my shoulders through the window. The rest of me followed easily.

  Inside, I shut the window I’d come through, wedged the front door shut with a trash can, and stripped by flashlight. I planted myself under the hot water, letting it pound my tired muscles, soaping up and scrubbing every inch of my body.

  A few times I jumped at a small sound, thinking someone was trying to come in or imagining the police outside, ready to burst in and arrest me. But I managed to wash, dry myself, brush my teeth and dress without a problem. Then I went back and re-opened the window an inch. I might need to get in that way again.

  Quietly, I let myself out and drove away. My fingerprints were everywhere, but five people could testify that I showered there every morning. And now I had a bigger problem: where to sleep.

  I found a quiet residential street close to the Center where two streetlights were burned out, making it darker than usual. Normally, streets in rich areas were better maintained, but I figured Josh had been too busy counting toilet paper rolls to keep up with the light bulb situation.

  My weekend of hard labor was taking its toll. Every muscle in my body ached. My eyes kept closing on their own, as I struggled to keep them open. I climbed into the back seat with the pillow and blankets I’d brought from what I’d once thought of as home, curled up, and fell asleep.

  ##

  Tap, tap, tap. The sound skated on the surface of my consciousness. Then, louder. Tap, tap, tap. “Open up! Now!”

  I shot up from the car’s back seat, my body awake even as my mind struggled to regain consciousness. “Who’s there?” I croaked.

  “Police.”

  Moving as if I were in molasses, I got myself over the window and rolled it down. I didn’t know the time, but it was still dark.

  “Out of the car.” He was an older cop whose sad eyes made me think of Perkins a little. His hair was all gray, though, and his face heavily lined.

  I got out, standing barefoot in the road, shivering in my sweats.

  “ID?”

  “It’s in my jeans.” Without thinking, I yanked open the door to the back seat and leaned in to grab my wallet.

  The next thing I knew, he had pulled me back roughly, throwing me against my car. “Hands in front of you! Spread your legs!”

  Heart pounding, I obeyed. I could have taken this guy out easily except that his gun pretty much evened the playing field. He ran his hands over me, finding nothing, then cuffed me and dragged me into the back seat of his police cruiser. “Sit here w
hile I search your car.”

  I shook with cold and fear, thinking please God don’t arrest me. I tried to stay calm. What could I say to him?

  After a few minutes, he trudged back, my wallet in his hand. Instead of weapons or drugs, he’d found my valid driver’s license, fire department ID for the Discoverers group, and a card that said “I gave blood at Santa Alicia Hospital.”

  “Don’t you know it’s illegal to sleep in your car in the city of Santa Alicia?”

  “No. Sorry. I just… didn’t know where else to go. I lost my home a few days ago.” Maybe this dude would cut me some slack, even though he didn’t give a rat’s ass about me.

  He looked me over for a minute or two. “You go to school? Or work?”

  “I work for a brush clearance company. And I’m in the Discoverers program at Santa Alicia fire station.”

  “Yeah, I saw that.” He held up my ID card. “Look, ya can’t sleep here, okay? I’m going to have to ask you to move on.”

  “No problem. Thanks.”

  He uncuffed me. “A word of advice. No sudden moves around a police officer. I thought you were going for a gun. That’s why I searched you.”

  “I’ll remember.” I practically ran back to my car, jumped in and locked the door. Muggers and perverts I could handle, but a cop who might give me a criminal record scared the living crap out of me.

  My cell phone showed the time as two o’clock in the morning. My feet were freezing. I didn’t know where to go. I drove around for half an hour until I finally just pulled over in a strip mall parking lot and crawled into my back seat, thinking the worst part was the loneliness. I’d never felt so alone in my life.

  I dozed, waking up every hour or so, then drifting back to sleep, until the grinding and clashing of metal woke me up five. The garbage trucks had arrived.

  Work started in two hours, meaning I would have to see Benny. I hadn’t heard a word from him since I took the chainsaw. I headed for the Community Center, where I could at least wash my face and brush my teeth before I faced the firing squad.

  On the Street