The mall was a good eleven or twelve blocks away and Gemma arrived just after the doors were unlocked and the food court opened. She went right to the public washrooms, and was happy to find that they were also open, and she was alone. After she relieved herself, she stood and stared at herself in the mirrors. Her hair was a mess and her mouth felt like garbage. Luckily, she'd thought to bring her toothbrush, but she had no toothpaste, so she had to make do with just the brush. After making herself a bit more presentable, she walked out of the bathroom, backpack slung on her shoulder, and tried to figure out what to do next.
It was clear she was going to miss school that day. Someone would call her home looking for her, but they'd only get her mother, who probably had no idea where she was nor would she really care as long as she had her beer and cigarettes. Chris cared only because she wouldn't be there to do any cleaning or cooking or playing his games. Her father probably didn't even know she'd been gone.
Her life sucked.
She had a small amount of change in her pocket -- maybe enough to buy an Egg McMuffin at McDonald's. That was it. She'd either have to go back to Trisha's and beg to stay there, or she'd have to go home. She didn't want to become homeless.
After buying her food, she sat on one of the hard benches in the food court and ate her meal, her eyes filling with tears while she chewed. Where was her aunt? She'd been counting on staying with her instead of going home, but now even that seemed to be out of the question. She used a paper napkin as a tissue and wiped her eyes.
That was when the cute older guy who was standing in line at McDonald's waiting for his coffee turned and saw her. They made eye contact for a moment and she glanced away, embarrassed to have been seen crying. She finished wiping her eyes before stealing a look at him. Now, his back was turned, and he was reaching into his pocket for money to pay for his coffee.
Then, he turned and walked her way.
He was cute and much older than her. He looked maybe nineteen or twenty. He would have already graduated from high school and was maybe getting coffee before work. He stopped in front of her table.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice deep and warm. "I saw you were crying. Is everything all right?"
She glanced up at him, and of course, the warmth in his voice just made her feel even worse and the tears started to flow once more.
She didn't speak because she didn't trust her voice. Instead, she merely stuffed the paper napkin against her eyes.
"Oh, hey," he said and pulled out the chair, sitting down and leaning forward. He took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry. What's the matter, sweet thing? Did you have a fight with your mother or something?"
"My mother doesn't care if I live or die."
She said it. It just blurted out.
He clucked his tongue. "And I bet you have nowhere to stay, right?"
She shook her head. "My brother is too mean to me. I thought I could stay with my aunt, but she isn’t answering my texts, and I don't know where she is."
There was just something about the young man that made her trust him. His eyes were kind. Even though he was older and even though she didn't know him, he seemed really caring.
"Hey, what's your name? I'm Mike. Mike O'Dell."
"Gemma," she replied.
"You don't want to go home? Maybe you should try to work things out with your mom. If your brother's mean, you should tell her. I could go with you, talk to her, if that helps."
Gemma shook her head firmly. "No. I can't do anything. I've tried before but nothing will change. Nothing ever changes."
He leaned back and sighed heavily, as if her problems really upset him. "I'm so sorry, Gemma," he said. "Maybe you could go into foster care. Do you want to go to the police? I'm sure they'd help you find a place to stay. Maybe they'd talk to your brother, get him to stop being so mean."
"No," she said and frowned. "No police. I don't want to go into foster care. Who knows what kind of people would take me?"
She'd heard tales of girls in foster care being mistreated. She didn't want that.
"I'd say you could stay with me, but I'm busy working all day. You know,” he said and raised his eyebrows like he just got an idea. “My friend Charice has a spare bed in her place. She does some modeling and I'm sure she'd let you stay with her. I'm a photographer. You're pretty enough to be a model. Did you know that? With that hair and those eyes," he said and shook his head. "I could get you some jobs in a kid's catalog if you want."
"Really?" Gemma asked, and self-consciously pushed her hair back off her face.
"Yes," he said. "You're really pretty and you have a child model's body. Thin. A good neck. Nice hair. If you need some money and a place for the night, you can call me as a last resort. I'll call Charice and clear it with her. I could take some studio shots of you, head shots, and farm them around to the modeling agencies I work with. If you haven't figured out what to do and don't want to go home, consider working for me and staying with Charice. Give me your iPod," he said.
She did, without thinking. Just handed her iPod over. It was already unlocked, so he merely opened her contacts and put his name and number in. "You can message me if you want to do the shoot and need a place to stay. Charice's place is big, and there's an extra bed you could sleep on."
She smiled and wiped away her tears.
"Thanks," she said and took her iPod back.
"Think about what I said. The best thing would be for you to go back to your mom and explain that your brother's hurting you. If you don't want to, if you want to make real money, send me a text. When I'm finished with work, I'll come meet you here and you can stay with Charice if she says okay and you have nowhere else. We could do some photos and I could see if any of the agencies are interested. But you should know Charice has a cat. He's big and fat and runs things. You'll have to make friends with him."
He smiled, and his smile was so friendly, that she couldn't help but smile back.
He was cute, too, with blue eyes and black hair. She saw some tattoos on his wrists and figured he was a really cool guy.
She watched him walk off, wondering where he worked and whether she could trust him.
She figured it was either go home and face Chris's wrath or trust a complete stranger.
What other choice did she have?
Gemma spent the day wandering around the mall, and then she walked back to Trisha's, hoping that Mrs. Parker would let her stay the night. She didn't expect that Trisha’s mom would give in and let her, but she was at her wit's end, and didn't want to go home.
"Where were you today?" Trisha said when she let Gemma into the apartment. "Mrs. Pinkus asked me if I knew where you were. My mother called your mother and then your mother called the school. You're in deep trouble."
Gemma sighed and went inside. Trisha led her to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. "Are you hungry?"
Gemma nodded. She was always hungry. The little bit of money she had was already gone. "Can I have some cereal? I had an Egg McMuffin this morning at the mall."
"Of course," Trisha said and took out the carton of milk. "What do you want? Trix or Wheaties?"
"Better have Wheaties," Gemma said, sitting at the kitchen table while Trisha put a bowl and the box of cereal in front of her with a bowl and spoon. "I need something healthy. We have a practice tomorrow after school. If I want to stay on the gymnastics team, I have to be strong enough."
"You better go home before my mom gets back from her shift," Trisha said. "Your mother threatened to call the police if you stayed here one more night."
"I'm not going home," Gemma replied and poured herself a huge bowl of Wheaties. She applied several spoons of sugar and then covered it in milk. Then, she hungrily ate up the cereal. "I met this guy at the mall. He said I was pretty enough to be a model and that if I needed money and a place to stay, he had a friend with an extra room. She’s a model. He’s a photographer and said he'd do a photo shoot and see if any of the agencies were interested."
"And you believed him? Gemma -- he obviously wants to get into your panties."
"He was really nice," Gemma said and frowned. "He said he'd help me get work. I could still go to school, but I could maybe model for a kid's catalog."
"Where would you stay?"
"Like I said, at this girl's place he knows. Charice. She's a friend of his. She's a model, I guess."
"Who is this Charice person? You're really thinking of staying with a complete stranger?"
"Better I stay with Charice than going home to my brother."
Trisha shook her head, not willing to see Gemma's point of view. "I think you should go home and tell your mother that Chris is hurting you."
"She's drunk all the time," Gemma said, almost yelling, tears springing to her eyes. She put down her spoon and wept, frustrated and afraid that she'd have to go home, and Chris would force her to play his game again.
She would not do it. Never again.
"I'm sorry," Trisha said and took Gemma's hand across the kitchen table. "I know it's hard at your place. But your mom obviously cares about you. She wants you home."
"That's so I can clean the house for her while she lies on the sofa and drinks herself to sleep."
Trisha had nothing to say in response and so Gemma wiped her eyes and finished her bowl of cereal. Who knew when she'd get another meal?
All Gemma knew was that she wasn't going home.
When Mrs. Parker got home that night, she put her grocery bags down on the kitchen counter and shook her head when she saw Gemma and Trisha sitting at the table doing their homework.
"Gemma..."
She came over and stood beside Gemma, a hand on her shoulder. "You have to go home. I can't let you stay here tonight, or your mother will call the police on me. Do you want the police involved?"
"It's okay," Gemma said and closed up her textbook. "I have a place to stay."
"Gemma..." Trisha said, frowning.
Gemma shot Trisha a look, and shook her head slightly. "I'll stay with my Aunt again."
"Okay," Mrs. Parker said and went back to the kitchen to unload the groceries. "Do you want to stay for supper? We're having hamburgers."
"Yes, please," Gemma replied, glad that at least she'd get some decent food. "I'll go to my aunt's after we're done."
Trisha frowned, clearly not happy that Gemma was lying about her aunt, but Gemma was determined not to go home no matter what.
There was no way Chris was going to ever touch her again.
When supper was over and the dishes were loaded up into the dishwasher, Gemma gathered her books and slid them into her backpack.
"I better go before it's too late," she said to Mrs. Parker. "Thanks for supper."
"Are you sure you'll be okay going to your aunt's place?"
"It's okay. I have a bus pass and the bus stops just a block from her place."
Gemma forced a big smile and then went to the front door. "I'll be fine. See you at school tomorrow," she said to Trisha. Trisha followed her.
"I thought you said your aunt wasn't there," Trisha whispered when they stood on the front porch. "You're not really going to stay at this Charice person's apartment, are you?"
"I can always stay on my aunt's porch until she gets back from her shift at midnight. No problem. See you tomorrow morning at school. I promise I won't skip. It’s practice day and I never miss that."
Gemma backed away down the walkway, waving at Trisha one last time. She wasn't really sure if she was going to text Mike or not. She'd first try her aunt's place again. Maybe she could sleep on the sofa again and make sure she was gone before the workers arrived. Then, she'd take the bus to school.
She hoped against hope that her aunt really was just staying out of town while the house was being painted and didn't get her texts. As nice as Mike seemed, she was reluctant to just go stay with some girl she'd never even laid eyes on.
But if she had to, she would.
One thing was certain -- she was never going home again.