Hunger

Rory: Scars and Surprises

Austin agrees to stay with me for the rest of the week. I've already read Blanca and Seth the riot act, and they agreed to keep their mouths shut. Seth was a little punk about it at first, but of course he changed his tune pretty quickly when I started making threats.

"Fine. Tell dad," I said nonchalantly, "And when you're done, I'll tell him all about your little drug habit."

That was all it took.

As for Blanca, I appealed to her soft side. Blanca has a son who's just a little older than Austin, and I kept telling her to imagine him on the streets, looking for shelter. How would she feel if someone ratted him out, sent him back to a horrible situation? Her compassion won over in the end.

The most important things for Austin and Pixie right now are keeping them safe and hidden and, of course, fed. Austin has lost a lot of weight since he stayed with me before, even though he insists he's been eating regularly. He may be eating regularly, but whatever he's eating isn't enough. Just during those few days before Halloween, he eats more than I've ever seen anyone eat.

Neither of us has mentioned the kiss or its implications, but our mutual attraction to each other grows each day. We spend a lot of time just sitting together and talking. We have our best conversations at night up in my bedroom after Pixie's fallen asleep and it's just the two of us. We sit cross-legged in front of my bookshelf, snacking and drinking. My dad has this impressive wine collection, and every now and then I sneak a bottle. We talk about everything: music, movies, plans, Seth, Pixie, our families, our dreams, and our fears.

"My biggest fear is getting injured," I say to Austin the night before Halloween.

We're sipping a white dessert wine, sweet and smooth, and we've mismatched it horribly with a plate of nachos, but somehow they taste amazing together in that buzzed-up way.

"Why?" he asks.

Austin is sitting cross-legged on the floor across from me, the plate of homemade nachos between us. He's wearing sweatpants and a faded Pepsi t-shirt and looks so cute and sleepy I almost can't stand it.

"If I couldn't dance I think I'd die. My biggest fear is losing a leg or breaking my foot beyond repair. I can't even imagine my life without being able to dance. I've been dancing since I was three."

"Why do you love it so much?" Austin asks curiously, popping a chip into his mouth.

I stare at the wall above his head thoughtfully. How can I put it into words?

"It's like when I dance, the world becomes really small, like it's just me existing inside of this tiny, safe snow globe. I love taking a character or a movement and making it mine, putting it into myself. It's like I have magic that I can use to control the world, to make people cry, make people smile."

Austin smiles his pretty smile then, taking a sip of the sweet wine. "Well my biggest fear is not being in control, not being prepared. I like to control everything," he says.

"Yeah, I've noticed. Why is that, anyway?"

He shrugs. "When I grew up everything was always crazy. I never knew where we were gonna sleep, when the next meal was gonna come in, what school I'd go to the next day or the next week. Nothing was dependable. When am I gonna get to watch you dance anyway?" Austin asks. He seems to want to steer the subject away from his childhood.

I stand up on my wobbly legs, setting my wine glass on the bookshelf. "What do you want to see?" I ask.

"Anything. I don't know shit about ballet."

I glance at Pixie, who's sleeping on the air bed across the room. "I'll try to do this quietly. I'm not on pointe and I'm a little buzzed so you won't get the whole effect, but this is part of the snowflake dance we're rehearsing for The Nutcracker."