This kid’s going to mess up his fancy shoes. It can get muddy in the ravine.
I approach him. “Be careful. Those clothes look expensive.”
He looks up at me. His eyes and hair are both dark. He looks a lot like me, come to think of it, except cleaner. More put together.
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t care if I mess up my clothes. I don’t care about anything.”
“You don’t? Not even your mom and dad?”
He huffs. “Especially not them. My dad only cares about one thing. His job. And Mom just cares about her ladies’ clubs and stuff.” He kicks at a nearby pebble. “They don’t care about me at all.”
“That can’t be true.” I take a few steps toward him. “Moms and dads care a lot about their kids. Maybe they’re just super busy with life.”
My mom and dad aren’t perfect, but they do love all six of their children with their whole hearts. They give us everything they can. It’s just not a lot.
The boy shakes his head. “My parents could care. They just choose not to.” He sits on the edge of the ravine, stares into the rushing water. We had a big rainstorm last night, so it’s flowing faster than usual.
I sit down next to him. “Well, that sucks. I’m sorry about that.” I extend a hand. “My name is Harrison. Harry for short. What’s yours?”
He looks me up and down and gives me a small smile. “Maddox.”
“Nice to meet you, Maddox.”
He looks around. “Do you live around here?”
“Yep. My family and I live in the trailer park just a few blocks from here.”
“A trailer park?” He wrinkles his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
I cock my head. “What’s there to be sorry about?”
He swallows, blinks a few times. “Sorry. I mean… I’m sorry that I said I was sorry.”
I chuckle. “You’re not from this area, are you?”
He bites his lip. “Not exactly. My family’s driver picked me up from school on the way to the airport. He’s picking up Dad from a business trip. I… I pretended I was going to be sick, made him pull over as he was getting off the highway. And then I just…ran.”
I drop my jaw. “You ran away?”
He smirks. “I guess so.”
“Where are you going to live?”
He shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”
I decide to change the subject. “What do you like to do for fun?”
“Dad’s trying to get me into fencing. Water polo. Horse racing. It’s not really my thing.”
“What is your thing?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I had this uncle—he died about a year ago—who ran this men’s clothing store in Chicago. I always thought it would be cool to run a store like that.”
Men’s clothes. There’s a subject I know nothing about.
“What else?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
