I was up at nine, writing on my laptop in the recliner and drinking coffee, when I noticed the little boy was awake. His round dark eyes peered out of his face, the only thing showing as the rest of him was wrapped in the blanket still. 

He didn't look anxious or scared or anything, which told me more than anything. Dissociation was also a friend of mine.

"Hola," I said to him softly, and his eyes bore into me. My palms got sweaty. How to not make this kid's life harder than it already was? "Quieres chocolate?" I figured I'd start somewhere safe.

He didn't answer or blink or anything. Okay, good start. I got up slowly and said awkwardly "esta bien" as I went into the kitchen. I returned with a dark chocolate candy bar full of pistachios, hazelnuts, and almonds. I bought them by the case online because they were the best thing. If they didn't work to win the kid over, nothing would. "Okay," I said, holding out the candy bar even though it was way too much for him. Whatever.

He didn't take it but regarded me solemnly. "Um," I said, wishing I was better at life. "Reed? Quieres Reed? El va a, revolver? No, no, devolver. Va a devolver, en el noche." Did I say he was going to come back at night?

"Oh my God, you're killing me," Bella said from my room. She appeared in the doorway, her hair a fluffy cloud of tangles, still wearing her jeans and hoodie from the day before. "I seriously cannot listen to any more, so please stop. Like, I mean, forever stop speaking Spanish. Reed regresará esta noche," she rattled off to the kid. "No tepreocupes. No vamos a hacer daño. Come tu chocolate."  Don't worry, we won't hurt you. Eat your chocolate.

He believed her assurance that we wouldn't harm him, for he reached out a thin arm took the candy from me, his eyes widening a little at the weight. Still he hesitated until Bella gave him a look, which apparently was a language he also spoke, because he unwrapped it and took a bite. His eyes became fully round, and he scooted so he was sitting up, pressed into the corner of the couch. He quickly took another two bites so his mouth was crammed full, and then sat and chewed and drooled a little chocolate in the ecstasy of it.

Bella and I exchanged an amused look and she went into the bathroom. Neither of us acted as if we noticed when he flinched from her walking by. I took the opportunity to fully open my bedroom window and strip the bed so I could wash the sheets, giving him as wide a berth as I could as I went so as not to spook him.

My laundry room was just off the kitchen, something we had added on. It had a door into the house and one that opened to the back yard. The door to the yard was not alarmed and I only used it in the day when it was safe to turn off the alarm. I was paranoid, yes, but sometimes paranoia is just good thinking. 

I threw in the bedding and reset the alarm, then put on Spongebob for the kid. I realized I didn't know his name and shook my head at myself.

"Como te llamas?" I tried, but he didn't respond or even look away from the TV. He was more than halfway through the giant candy bar, the wrapper long discarded, chocolate melted all over both hands, his face, and my blanket. Whatever, he was happy.

I texted Reed because he did have an actual phone when he was in town. He texted back his name was Raul or Julio, as best as anyone could tell, and they knew he understood Spanish though he didn't talk. I conveyed this information privately to Bella after her shower as she sat outside smoking. It was chilly.

"Peter Pan run off again?" Her hand was shaking because she hadn't drank anything yet.

"Just for the day." I offered her some of my coffee.

She declined. "Oh goodie." She pulled a flask out of her hoodie pocket and unscrewed the cap, swallowing three times and making a face after. The flask had a Metallica logo on it.

"Really?" I asked.

"Shut up, I like Metallica. This cost a buck at the thrift store, too." She glanced at me. "Unless you meant my drinking before ten."

"I didn't," I said truthfully.

"Either way," she shrugged. "So are we just gonna let the little dude watch tv all day like bad moms or are we going to teach him to climb the water tower or what's the plan?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking just staying here is good." I picked up a couple of her cigarette butts that hadn't made it into the can. Reed would never dream of leaving one on the porch or ground.

I took my own shower and made some cookies and food. We got the kid to eat some chicken and sweet rolls, and called "Raul" or "Julio" at random times to see if he responded. He did, to both names, and then to neither. But he was pretty engrossed in the cartoons.

Reed came back at seven, and the boy was fighting sleep but sat up straighter when he heard the door. I turned off the alarm when I saw who it was, and reset it after he came in. He had on cargo pants with a rip in the knee and a gray t-shirt that said ARMY in black lettering. Five or six charms on leather strings were hidden under the shirt. There was grease smeared on his cheek and hands and the sight of him was delicious, the hug even better.

"Oops," he said, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe my nose. "Got grease on you, chérie; my apologies. I might need a shower." He grinned as I admired his bare stomach. "How's the enfant? Did we find his name?"

"It seems to be either Raul Julio, or Julio Raul," I said helpfully. "Also, you're not joining the Army, right?"

He looked at me quizzically and I pointed at his shirt, which he then looked down at. "Oh," he said. "No, never in life, darling."

"You know people don't really call each other that in America, right?" Bella came out of the living room. "I mean, you should, since you've lived here for what, fourteen years."

"Stop," I said, rolling my eyes at her. "Go home."

"I am, actually. Adios, Julio Raul," she called, and I noticed she had her bag at her feet. She had been drinking all day, but she always did that. I was never sure when she was really drunk or not.

"You cool to drive?" I asked casually as she hugged me in a cloud of liquor. My heart sank. I didn't want to lose fuckin' Bella too if she wrapped her car around a tree.

"I'm fine," she scoffed, waving Reed away from the door. "Let me out, wouldja."

I did, reluctantly. "Drive carefully, okay?"

Now she rolled her eyes at me. "I always do. I'm fine." She saluted Reed. "A la prochaine," she said dryly. "Which won't be for a few years, knowing you." She pulled the door shut but stopped at the last moment and opened it again. "And talk to her about the fucking razor blades, would ya? Maybe she'll listen to you."

I blushed to my bones because he knew good and well what that meant. "Fuck you," I said without rancor. She put her hand out, palm up, like Sorry, but she had a smirk on her face as she shut the door. "Not now, okay?" I said to Reed, my nose and eyes stinging. The shame was almost as bad as the anxiety that caused the cutting in the first place. I hated it, all of it. "Go see the kid."

He was torn but honored my request and I went to the kitchen to take deep breaths and focus on not crying. I got out one of the dark chocolate bars and ate some. I thought about the fact that with Bella gone, Reed would sleep in bed with me, and that cheered me somewhat.

I heard the shower come on after a few minutes. RJ was asleep, half a corn cob in his hand. I carefully took it and fixed his blanket. He had fading bruises from fingers on his neck. Just another victim of the foster system. I wondered how many other kids Reed had helped like he had me, and this one. I had a feeling the number was pretty high up there.

I put on my pajamas and sat on the bed, putting on a nature show we hadn't seen yet. He came out in boxers, drying his hair, and how unfair was that gorgeous body not being mine? He draped the towel over the rocking chair and pulled shorts out of the bottom dresser drawer, stepping into them. It was warm in the house and he sat on the bed, against me, and nudged me. He was damp.

A thrill of fear went through me, making acid rise that I swallowed back down. I nudged him back, eyes on the TV. "Do we have to?"

He was on my right side, where he knew I preferred him and everyone to sit. He took the remote from that hand and muted the TV, then set it aside and held my hand with both of his. "Talk to me about this," he said, more of a request. He touched my thigh, briefly; not where the cuts were, but on top. He knew where they were. He'd seen the scars before, seen the cuts when they had scabs, and even caught me doing it once in my underwear in the bathroom with the water running because I was pretending to shower. There was very little Reed didn't know about me.

I shrugged, wishing more than anything I hadn't been caught. Stupid, to leave the blade where she could find it. "There's nothing to talk about."

"If you are hurting yourself, that's what there is to talk about, chérie." His voice was matter of fact.

"Ugh," I said, hating it.

"Your anxiety is that bad again?" he asked gently.

I twisted my hair with my other hand, wishing Bella had kept her stupid mouth shut or maybe minded her own business in the first place in regards to my medicine cabinet "It is," I said finally. "It can be." I watched dolphins frolic on the screen and wished I was one of them. I had anti anxiety meds, and they helped. But sometimes not enough.

"We all do what we can to cope, Addy. Don't feel badly about it." He let go of my hand and stood up to get his cigarettes, as if to prove this statement. He opened the window a few inches and the cold came in quickly. He lit the cigarette and sat in the rocking chair. The damp towel he leaned against had to be cold but he didn't seem to notice. "If you knew some of the things I have done," he said with a short laugh. I didn't doubt it. He'd had a much harder life than I.

"I try everything else first," I made myself say, because it was true, and also important.

He took another drag and motioned me over with his head. I went and he pulled me into the chair, my butt next to him, my legs across his lap, his cigarette-free arm around me. I relaxed against him, half naked as he was. "You are amazing, okay? I know you do all you can. I know it sucks. And please believe that I am hyper aware of how much I contribute to your anxiety," he said almost bitterly.

"Mmm," I said, sleepy as he rocked us. "Not your fault."

"True as that is, it doesn't help either of us, does it." He was usually pragmatic about it but this time he sounded annoyed. "I can tell you one thing, though I probably shouldn't. I'm almost done."

I was half asleep at this point but it roused me. "Done?"

"Done. If I want to be." He sighed and leaned us forward to put the cigarette out.

"You want to be!" I said, emphatically. I stood to shut the window and we moved to the bed, sliding under the covers. It was cold but he was warm and his arm was around me. "You want to be, right? Is that even a question?" I could barely imagine a world where he didn't have to leave.

"More than anything," he said.

I believed it. "How?"

He thought for a minute. "My . . . obligations will soon be fulfilled," he said carefully. "I suppose I could say."

I hardly dared to hope. "Almost as in, next year?" I didn't even let myself consider earlier.

"Possibly sooner," he allowed. "No more talking about it, si'l vous plait. I'll tell you when I know more, I promise. Now you must promise me something, that you will keep trying all the other things first, and do harm to yourself as the absolute last resort, si cela vous est possible." If at all possible. 

I loved how he didn't ask me not to do it, or shame me for it. "Je te promets," I said, which meant I promised.

He sighed. "D'accord, you're exhausted, I'm exhausted; we should sleep. I'll take the boy in the morning to his new home, early, and then I have another four or five days here." He grinned, which I could hear in his voice when he continued. "If you'll have me."

I blew air out of my nose in a totally unsexy way. "If I'll have you. Shut up. This is your house too." He had given his apartment up and moved in with me only when I turned eighteen. Knowing him, I was certain he'd waited that long only for propriety's sake.

"I need a haircut, as well," he mused, yawning.

"Damn," I said, yawning too. "'Kay."

"Also, I guess we could try cliff diving."

"Yay!" I'd been wheedling for that one.

"Sweet dreams, ma petite sirene."

I got that one even half asleep. "Did you just call me your little mermaid?"

I could hear the grin in his voice. "Maybe. Also, please remember you are beautiful. Bonne nuit."