One for the Angels

“I’ve been thinking,” was the first thing I said to Danny when I came outside. He accepted his red velvet cupcake and pumpkin spice latte with a smile that was small, but still lit up the entire street, in my opinion. Yesterday, he’d oh-so-nonchalantly had mentioned that red velvet cupcakes were one of his favorite desserts ever, and it sure would be nice if he got to have one. Naturally I obliged.

“Thinking?” he repeated as I settled down next to him. “That’s always dangerous. I hope you didn’t strain yourself.”

“You’re so funny,” I answered dryly. “But yes, I’ve been thinking.”

“About what, exactly? Wait a second . . . is this a pumpkin spice latte?”

“Yes. Why?”

He made a face. “It’s just so . . . basic.”

“It’s also the only thing you have to drink right now, so I suggest you don’t kick a gift horse in the mouth,” I retorted.

He held up a hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry, O Great One. You were saying?”

“Yes. As I was saying . . .” I reached over and dipped my pinky into the fluffy cream cheese frosting on top of his cupcake, bringing it to my mouth and licking it off. I was a sucker for that frosting. Danny’s eyes tracked the movement, almost like he was transfixed. I pretended not to notice. “. . . I just noticed that you never seem to be, you know . . . stinky.”

“Stinky?” he said, raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know. Covered with the stench and the grime that usually comes when you hang out in a sleeping bag on the dirty sidewalk all the time.” Now that I really was thinking about it, Danny didn’t smell bad at all. Not that he smelled like roses, but most of the time it was just coffee, since he drank it so much now. Coffee and the cold air.

“So?” he said, and his voice was cool, almost a little defensive.

“I’m just wondering how you do that,” I said, trying to keep my voice light and unconcerned.

He shrugged, pausing for almost half a minute. “There’s a public toilet down the street. They’ve got showers and stuff. No one locks it up at night, so I go there.” He shrugged again. I knew exactly what restroom he was talking about. It was a white, run-down building that looked like it could collapse any minute. It smelled like alcohol and pee and there was broken glass and and shit smeared all over the floors and there were shady hobos always waiting outside of it. Every time I had to go by it, I clutched my keys and pepper spray tighter in my hand.

“Don’t go in there anymore,” I said suddenly. “It’s not safe. You’ll get killed.” Any other time, I’d be embarrassed for my rare display of motherly instincts, but for some reason, this was different.

“What’s another bum off the streets?” Danny said humorlessly.

“Stop,” I said, my voice sharp now.

“Stop what?”

“Talking about yourself like that. Like you’re insignificant. You aren’t.”

“Says who?” he shot back.

“Says me,” I answered, more forcefully this time. He seemed surprised by my tone, snapping his head up to stare at me. “You’re much more than that, Danny. You know that.”

He was the first to break my gaze, looking down the street instead. “I won’t make any promises like that.” I wanted so badly to reach over and tilt his head towards me, forcing us to look at each other again, but I didn’t. And then suddenly, I just felt so tired all of a sudden, like this was a battle I had no chance of winning.

“Fine,” I said at last. I stood up abruptly, and Danny jerked back like I’d pushed him over. I looked back at him when I reached the door, only to find that he was staring after me, a mixture of regret and something else on his face. Our eyes met for a few seconds, but this time, it was me who looked away first.