eighteen #2
If this is the shelter Leo had spoken of last night, then perhaps he sees Kiki as a mother figure.
That still doesn't explain how he ended up here, though.
My head spins with unanswered questions, and if I don't get answers soon, I may be lost forever, spiraling into oblivion.
I try to not forget why I was angry, but it’s so difficult when Leo is being so… human.
“Well, Kiki, I’m starving, so we’re gonna get going. It was great catching up. I trust you know what to do with the cash.” Leo stands up from his seat.
My head snaps to attention, the wooden legs of the chair scraping loudly across the concrete floor.
I follow him, standing up awkwardly. I have barely said two words since I came here, but I don't know what to say.
I have gone through the entire register of emotions today, and I have somehow ended up somewhere between confused and overwhelmed.
“Okay. Don’t be a stranger, babe, and yes, I know what to do with the money. I’m well versed in this. You’ve been doing it long enough, and you’ve taught me well,” she assures, a smile on her face.
She walks around the desk with her arms open wide towards Leo.
He smiles and accepts the hug, bending down and gripping her tight, his face squished between her neck and her shoulder.
It dawns on me that this is a normal occurrence.
Leo often comes to make a ‘donation’, and I’m not sure what to do with this information.
“I won’t,” Leo responds, stepping back.
“It was nice meeting you, Cali. Take care of this one. Okay?” Her dark eyes meet mine. I stumble for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. Leo looks embarrassed again, opening his mouth to answer, but I beat him to it.
“I will. He certainly needs looking after,” I reply with a small laugh. Leo’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at my words. I’m shocked, too, if I’m honest with myself. I have no idea what prompted me to say it.
I think it has something to do with the look in her kind eyes, like a worried mother.
My heart aches because I don’t ever recall seeing that look in my own mother’s eyes.
The next thing I know, she is hugging me, her warm arms wrapping around me in an embrace.
I am so surprised by the touch, it takes me a few moments to hug her back as I avoid Leo's gaze.
With one final goodbye, we leave her in the cluttered office, and I continue to avoid Leo's eyes. I don't know how to feel. I don't know what to think. I now understand what Leo was planning to do with the stolen money, though, and I can’t decide what’s right.
On one hand, he stole the money from a man that probably worked hard for it, but, at the same time, he gave it to someone who needed it.
My thoughts are all over the place with questions that I don’t have moral answers to.
I have never felt so baffled by a situation in my life.
It still doesn’t change the fact that he killed someone, but I find myself wondering why and not automatically thinking about how wrong it is.
“Leo! Leo! Hi! How are you!? I haven’t seen you in so long!”
A voice greets Leo enthusiastically, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The voice is coated with a thick inner-city accent and is rough, almost as if it is out of tune but in perfect harmony at the same time.
It’s the exact same accent Leo carries, and it immediately makes me wonder how he knows this kid.
“Hey, Ollie! It’s good to see you, too!” Leo returns with a huge smile, hugging Ollie. He steps away from the hug, eyeing me critically. I barely resist the urge to squirm again. “Ollie, this is my friend, Cali. Cali, this is Ollie. I’ve known them for a few years now.”
It's only then that the sheer oddity of what Ollie is wearing finally registers.
A black and white striped shirt, a rip in the left arm.
A button that says they/them gleams in the low light of the room.
They have paired the shirt with black pants, silver chains hanging off of them at random.
They have a silver necklace that is connected with a small padlock.
They have an interesting sense of style, but I find I don't hate it.
“Nice to meetcha,” Ollie says with a wave, but there isn’t any friendliness in their tone or gesture.
Their full lips are pulled into a sneer, the black lipstick painted there is smeared, almost as if they meant to do it.
The eyeliner around their greenish eyes is also smeared, and their dark hair is matted and sticking up in all directions.
I look between them, realizing that Ollie may have a crush on Leo despite the fact that Leo is probably at least 10 years their senior.
Leo seems oblivious to this, and it’s kind of cute.
“It’s very nice meeting you, too,” I respond, smiling at them because I don't know what else to say.
They couldn’t be much older than 16, their clothes dirty and ripped.
I can’t decide if that’s the look they’re going for, or if it’s from wear and tear living on the streets.
My heart aches for them. Sixteen years old, homeless, and surviving in a shelter. It’s a reality too heavy to comprehend.
“Have you been trying to keep up with school?” Leo asks, voice dropping down to a gentle register I’ve never heard him use before.
“Not really. I can’t focus. The teachers always tell me ‘m stupid and distracted. What’s the point?” Ollie’s tone is dismissive, their eyes dropping to the floor.
My heart breaks a little. I don't know them, but why would a teacher ever say something so cruel to a kid?
My own tutors and private boarding school teachers had been nothing but supportive.
I knew I grew up in a bubble, but I always assumed public school students were given the same fundamental opportunities.
Looking around this room, at the matted hair and the raw, cold chattering of teeth, I realize how monstrously wrong I was.
I’m sick with the sudden realization that I’ve been exactly like those teachers—dismissing people I didn't understand, calling them stupid or lazy from the safety of my own privilege. Sometimes you have to step back from the canvas to see the whole painting.
“I understand. I was a lot like you. I hated school. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t even manage to stay in my seat most of the time. I was the class clown, always loud and disruptive. My geography teacher told me I was dumb all the time. Said I would never amount to anything.
School isn’t for everyone, but education is important. You’re a smart kid, Ollie, but do what you think is best,” Leo advises, and I am a bit shocked by that information.
Leo is a criminal, but I know he isn’t dumb.
He is actually fairly intelligent, despite the beliefs I used to hold.
I remember when I called him stupid for cursing, and he hit me with statistical information.
I was so shocked, I didn't know how to respond.
That feels like a lifetime ago when in reality it was only a few days.