Monday morning, Niagara Falls
“And you’re going to call when you get in, right?” Darrin asks, putting Jaye’s bag down on the curb.
“I can do that,” Jaye agrees.
“I can still drive you down there. There’s no need to take a bus.”
“I can’t talk to strangers that way.”
Jaye’s dad long ago stopped rolling his eyes at her, and just nods. “You have your mace?”
She doesn’t mention that if she maces anyone on the bus, she’ll get to spend the rest of the bus ride apologizing to them. Well, okay, she might apologize and she may or may not mean it. But still. “In my purse.”
“Don’t say that out loud,” Darrin says. “You don’t want them expecting it.”
Jaye nods. “Okay, Dad. I’ll be quiet about my pepper weaponry.”
“Are you going to be okay here by yourself?” he asks. “I can’t stay, but I can call Aaron-”
“I’m a big girl with said pepper weaponry,” she assures him. “I’ll be fine, Dad. Go to work.”
He hugs her goodbye, and it’s not exacly comfortable because the relationship isn’t the greatest, but it’s still her dad and he gets to hug her. “Be good. Don’t get arrested,” Darrin says. “Bail is expensive.”
Get arrested once... twice... and they never let you live it down.
After Darrin leaves, Jaye does all the normal preparing-for-a-bus trip stuff, then takes a seat on a bench, sliding down with the intention of sleeping off some of the hangover she’s had since halfway through Christmas Eve.
She wakes up when she hears a “Help!” coming from her purse. Jaye opens her eyes, grabs the kid’s hand before he can make off with her money and her lion, and blinks. “Hey, you’re the hoodlum!”
The kid who tried to rob Heart Attack Santa glares at her, trying to grab his hand back. “What are you, stalking me?”
”Hey, you’re the criminal,” says the girl with an arrest record. “You’re probably stalking me.”
“Yeah, right. Let go!”
“Let go of my purse first!”
The kid does, looking disappointed. He waits a minute, then says, “You can let go now.”
“I’m looking for a security guard,” Jaye tells him, scanning the crowd.
“Hey, not fair!”
“You’re the one who tried to swipe my purse! I bet that’s how Capone started.” Though she wouldn’t actually put money on that bet.
“I need the cash, okay?” the kid says.
“So do I, that’s why it’s mine. Get a job.”
“I’m twelve.”
“Get an allowance,” Jaye counters.
“I can’t,” he says.
She feels bad all of a sudden, realizing that maybe the kid’s stealing because he really can’t get it from anywhere else. Maybe his parents are out of work. Maybe he’s homeless. Maybe he-
Two seconds after the brat bites her, Jaye smacks him upside the head. Maybe he’s rabid, she thinks, rubbing her arm. “Juvie might do you some good.”
”You don’t know anything,” the kid snaps, but he’s not running anywhere.
“Did I ask?” She really doesn’t care. If she cared about things that didn’t concern her, it would never end.
Jaye waits a minute, and the kid’s not moving, and she reaches into her purse for a fifty dollar bill she got for Christmas. She knew she should have just deposited it in the bank.
”I’m not taking charity,” the kid says.
She forcibly sticks the money in his pocket. “But stealing- badly- is such a good way to hold onto some dignity. Merry Christmas. Or something.”
He looks at her strangely, but doesn’t say anything. Then he runs off.
Okay, it’s after Christmas. Still. Stupid holiday spirit.