cup: 2

Norma

He happened on a Monday. It was unconventional, yet in a way, perfect. Why do I remember, well because it rained that day. Lightly at first, small patters against my skin, and then in heavy waves: it was beautiful. And the beauty of the rain intensified when -for the second time that day- he approached me.

My eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, and I pushed myself up against the wall. His eyes held wonder and curiosity as he looked at me, and I felt something stir in my stomach. I wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it made me agree to his proposal of going home with him instantly. Pushing myself off the ground, I gathered the little things I had and realised too late that he had reached his hand out to help me. Feeling a bit awkward, I clutched the bear tighter to me and waited for him to lead the way. I watched as his mouth fixed itself into a perfect 'o', and he began to walk down the street.

Not long into the walk, he stopped us as if he had just realized something. Beginning to take off his jacket, he asked me if I was cold but I declined as I tightened my grip on the bear. A sinking feel bubbled in my stomach as we entered the underground train station, I can't get on a train. I wanted to stop walking, but every few seconds he would turn around to make sure I was still following him. He gave me his pay card for access, while he hopped the turn-stop when the officer wasn't looking. We didn't have to wait long for the train, and we boarded the car easily.

I wanted nothing more than to scream when the doors closed, to get off and never get back on. But I sat with my eyes screwed shut, knees bouncing, and a death grip on the stuffed animal. The train came to a lurching halt, and I think I screamed. Covering my ears, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and tried to block out sounds that weren't there. I rocked as the man tried to get me to calm down, but the train had started moving again. When the carriage stopped moving again, he ushered me off and we began to walk again.

He didn't ask questions, just looked back occasionally to make sure I was still behind him. We finally reached an apartment building, and he seemed nervous as he unlocked the door. In an exaggerated push, he opened the door and invited me in.

"This is my tiny, yet beloved home," he said, stepping inside as he dropped his bag to the floor.

For a moment, I hesitated outside of the door, before going in after him. Was coming home with a complete stranger a good idea, probably not, but it was better than behind a dumpster. I closed the door with a small click, and peered around the main room. A tan velvet couch was pushed against the far wall, a coffee table in the middle of the room, and a small flat screen TV on a stand in the corner. It was as minimalistic as a magazine photo.

"It's nice," I commented as I looked around one more time.

"Thank you. Uhm, just make yourself at home, I'm gonna get dinner started."

He walked into what I assumed to be the kitchen, and I wandered about the spacious room. Sitting on the couch, I had let my hands run over the soft material. I wouldn't mind sleeping here. A couch, I couldn't remember the last time I had slept on one, but it's been too long. As I leant back against the cushions, my small backpack crinkles against my back. I slid the straps down my arm, then removed the bag from underneath my shirt.

Heavy footsteps made me jump up from the couch, and the guy leans back as he stares at me. I blinked a few times, then lowered my defensive stance as we made eye contact. Tilting his head a bit, he studied me in a way that I became frozen in my place.

"I don't remember you having a backpack," he said, taking a step toward me.

"I kept it, under my shirt," I replied, still transfixed by his gaze. "My stuff is in here, it isn't​ much though."

I go to open the bag, but he stopped me and said he doesn't need to see.

"So what's your name?"

"Norma-Jean, and you?"

A smile graced his face at that, and his eyes glinted in the yellow light of the room.

"Pen," he said.

"Pin," I asked, and his smile dropped.

"No, Pen."

"Isn't that what I said, pin?"

"P-en, not p-in."

I nodded, even though I still didn't know if he meant a writing utensil or something that holds things up. He asked me what I wanted to eat, and my automatic answer was food. My stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of eating something, well, edible. Living off my own spit as well as here and there meals, whenever I could scrap up money was not adequate at all. Pen, what I guessed his name is, smiled at me and went back into the kitchen. With a huff, I sat back down and picked up the plastic bag. I hadn't had some of these things in so long, it was like buying candy for the first time.

Pen came back into the front room with two plates in his hands, then set them on the coffee table. I couldn't help but laugh at what he had prepared for us, and it earned one from him as well. Grilled cheese and French fries, a simple yet glorious meal. He went to the kitchen again shortly, bringing back glasses of milk for us to drink. I thanked him as I slid to the floor, and he gave me a funny look as he stood above me.

"Why are you sitting on the floor," he asked.

"So I can reach my food easier," I said, putting a fry in my mouth.

He made a face that said 'makes sense' as he bobbed his from one side to the other, then sat down beside me as he began to eat as well. We ate in complete silence, like it was perfectly normal for two strangers to eat together. I would glance over him a few times, and he was just happily eating his food. My plate was finished long before his, and he looked at me like he had never been more impressed. To be courteous, I tried to take the plates after he finished and he politely took them out of my hands.

"You're a guest, Norma-Jean, you don't have to do anything," he said, standing up from the floor.

"It's the least I could do right now," I replied, moving to sit back on the couch when something stopped me.

My pants had to be filthy, and I had sat on a clean couch. With wide eyes, I turned to look at the spot where I had been and sighed in relief. The soft material was free of any sort of dirt that might have come from me, and I stood from the floor to check for the same thing. Pen came from the kitchen once again, and I asked him could I use the bathroom. He shrugged as he wiped his hands on a towel, then pointed me down the hall. I thanked him, then darted toward where he had gestured with my plastic bag in hand.

Stripping out of my pants, I flung them into the tub and turned on the water. Instantly the water became dirty as it hit the fabric, and I couldn't believe I had ever been that filthy. Using the soap I bought, I began to scrub the pants clean as the water ran down the drain. The water felt amazing on my hands, so once I finished cleaning my pants, I turned the shower and climbed in after getting naked. My eyes rolled back at the sensation, and I just stood under the water as it cascaded down my body. How long had it been since I had a proper shower?

I reached for my towel and soap to wash my body, and relished in the feeling of cleaning myself. Hot water stinging my skin as the soft surface of the towel scrubbed against it, was like shedding an old layer of skin. My body felt relaxed, and my skin didn't feel dry or flakey anymore. Just because I could, I washed up three more times and then washed my hair. There was so much dead hair, I could have cried.

As I stepped out of the shower, which hurt my heart more than it should have, there was a hard knock on the door. I wrapped my towel around my body, and cracked open the door a bit to see Pen standing on the other side. He looked worried, but when I opened the door his face relaxed.

"You're alright," he sighed, and he leaned against the door frame. "I thought, I don't know, you were gonna kill yourself."

"No!" My eyes grew wide at his words, and I shook my head vigorously. "The shower, it just felt so good, I'm sorry. I haven't had one in so long, I didn't want to get out."

He nodded in understanding, and then began to play with his hands. Pen glanced to the side, as if he were thinking of something then back at me. I opened the door a little wider, and he kept playing with his hands. Finally he looked at me again, and I tilted my head in expectation.

"How long have you been homeless," he asked, shifting his gaze away from me once more.

"Three months," I said, not surprised by his question at all.

Standing up straight, Pen drew in a deep breath and kept his eyes away from me. His cheeks had turned a light shade of red, and his hands never stopped moving. If I had to guess, he seemed embarrassed. Then word soup came tumbling from his mouth, all in one breath.

"Would you like to stay here, until you find a job and place to live? I wouldn't mind at all, cos this place gets kind of lonely, and it'd be nice to have a roommate​."

I blinked a few times to let his words sink in, then I thought it over for a moment. To be truthful, I wanted to jump into his arms and scream yes in his face but I also wasn't sure. Having a place to stay would have been nice, but I didn't​ want to be a bother to him. Even with the hopeful stare he was giving me (his eyes trained on my face with an odd intensity) I hesitated to answer as I tapped my fingers against the door. There were so many pros and only a few cons I could think of to staying there, but the cons became a reality in my head. Still, I gave Pen a small smile as I nodded my head yes.

"If it won't be too much trouble for you, I would love to stay here," I said, and his face broke out into a wide grin.

"Great, cool, awesome," he smiled, clapping his hands together. "Well I'm off to bed. I pulled the bed out of the couch for you, and there's a pillow and blanket at the foot."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Pen."

His whole face lit up as he exclaimed that I got his name right. I laughed, because it was like a little kid trying candy for the first time.

"And it's no problem at all. Goodnight, Norma-Jean."

He began to walk away, then stopped as if he'd forgotten something. When he turned to look at me again, his face was once again a shade of red as he played with his hands.

"Um, hey, Norma-Jean," he said in a quiet tone.

"Yes, Pen," I smiled, and his face deepened in color.

"Your towel fell."

My eyes grew wide, and I looked down to see that I was in fact uncovered. I didn't scream or freak out about being him seeing me bare, I just slowly closed the door and put my warm face in my hands. That must have been so awkward for him, talking to me while I was full out naked. With a deep breath, I got dressed in clothes again and went back to the front room. Setting my things on the side of the couch, I climbed into the pullout bed and rolled around on it. A bed. For as long as I needed, it was all mine. I thanked Pen silently as I lay down, and an easy sleep followed soon after.