Free Romeo is Homeless by Julie Frayn

touch. Was that crazy? She was just another girl. Except everything about her was different than any other girl he’d had before. She was kind and open, honest and sweet. She was perfect. She even smelled good. And she smiled. A lot. He’d smiled more that day than he could ever remember. His cheeks ached from it.
    His family had better like her, had better welcome her into their circle. Or at least not chase her away. How long would she last before it all got too hard, before she had to run back home? How would she handle the reality of his world? Of the things he’s done – the things he still did? And why did he even give a shit? He couldn’t figure that part out. He just knew he wanted to keep her. To tell her his secrets. To make this feeling – whatever the hell it was – last as long as possible.
    She shifted again and rolled closer to him, her ball cap grazing his cheek. Then she snorted in her sleep.
    He suppressed a laugh, but couldn’t stop a wide, cheek-aching grin. He eased her cap off and inhaled deeply. The smell of her hair, like strawberries or peaches, filled his lungs and soothed his mind. He tightened his grip on her hand and closed his eyes to sleep.
     

Chapter 11
    Caraleen lay alone in August’s bed. She closed her eyes and pretended her daughter was there with her.
    Almost five years had passed since they curled up here together. Caraleen would sing softly into August’s ear and stroke her daughter’s temple. She would bury her nose into August’s soft blonde hair and inhale the scents that gave her such comfort – sweat, hay, herbal shampoo, and just the faintest hint of pig shit. That was the best part of motherhood – the smell of her child, the gentle touch that seemed almost electric, the love so deep there was no bottom to it. It was what made everything worthwhile – fights, misunderstandings, confusion, anger, the hatred she sometimes believed her own daughter felt for her. It was all fine when they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s embrace, secure in knowing, at least for that brief moment, that they shared comfort, serenity and peace.
    There came a time when August didn’t need that nighttime ritual Caraleen still longed for. Didn’t want to be tucked in, fawned over, coddled. She would wait until her daughter fell asleep, then sneak in and kiss the top of her head, breathe in the smell of their past closeness. She wished for time to stop, for August to quit growing older. Quit growing up. It all passed so quickly.
    Birth, breastfeeding, first steps, first words, first day of school, first lost tooth.
    First fight, first slammed door, first cuss words hurled in her face. When did it get so hard? Thirteen. That’s when.
    “Damn, damn, damn,” she swore under her breath.
    Kids had too much freedom nowadays. Maybe she was too strict, but Don was too soft. Her daddy would never have allowed her to act that way at sixteen, and she would never have talked back to her parents then. No way. No respect anymore, no fear. No consequences.
    Damn.
     

Chapter 12
    Sometime after sunrise August woke and stretched. The newspaper she had pretended was her patchwork quilt fell away to her side.
    Reese stirred and sat up. “Morning.” He stretched too and rubbed his head with both hands, mussing up his hair even more than usual. He jumped up and headed straight to the river. “Got to take my morning constitutional,” he called back to her before disappearing behind a concrete pillar.
    His morning constitutional. That was what her father called it too. What did taking a twenty minute dump have to do with freedom and independence?
    She stared up at the morning traffic roaring across the bridge, the drivers all rushing to get who-knows-where. How strange to see all those cars and trucks from underneath, driving on a road full of holes. At least she didn’t have to smell the grease from here, like when she was under the pickup changing the oil.
    She sat up and rubbed her lower back,