Page 12 of Cueball & Double-Z (Alpha’s Rejects #5)

“Night, Carol,” I said, wrapping my scarf around my neck, tucking it under my coat before I tugged on my beanie.

“Night, Marco. Thank you for all your help, as usual. I know I can always count on you.”

She, along with some staff, would stay behind and watch over the sleeping people crammed into every single bed we had.

Everyone else had already gone home. I’d stayed longer than intended, cleaning up the food and washing the dishes.

I still planned to head home, confident I’d miss the worst of the weather.

Sleeping on the floor on nights like these was incredibly uncomfortable.

When I stepped outside, the icy cold felt like a punch to the face.

It was windy, and the snow was thick and gusting.

I hoped everyone had found shelter. Then I worried about those two young men—sweet Zilch and the angry thief, Zero.

I hated that they’d been turned away, but we just couldn’t take everyone in.

There were other shelters around, so hopefully they found one to stay in for the night.

The angry thief. He reminded me so much of Aiden, except Aiden wore a mask of disdain to hide who he really was, along with his self-loathing.

Zero was in pain, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Homelessness could leave some feeling completely out of control.

I could tell he tried to take care of Zilch, and it was he who seemed to soften Zero’s hard edges a bit.

Three times. I’d seen Zero three times. It was reaching the point where I had to start believing in fate.

Even with all my education, I couldn’t dismiss coincidences, like I was meant to know them.

For what? I wasn’t sure. What purpose would my knowing them serve?

Was I meant to help them? Or was it something else?

I didn’t know what had compelled me to follow them out unseen when they’d left earlier. With a heavy heart and a whole lot of guilt, I watched them walk out into the bitter cold.

Carol had placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “They’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” I breathed with a heavy sigh.

When I saw them climb into an old red car, I breathed a little easier.

At least they had a car. It was better than nothing.

A lot of people live in their cars these days.

Homelessness was getting out of hand, and there was shit I could do about it.

Our government was definitely not doing shit about it.

What was the point of paying taxes to them if they weren’t going to help their people?

I headed down the sidewalk, toward the subway station two blocks away, when I passed the red car I’d seen Zero and Zilch get into earlier.

It was a Honda CR-V that looked to be at least twenty years old.

I stopped by the car and tried to look inside, but the windows were fogged up, which meant the two brothers were inside, trying to stay warm.

With a sigh, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and moved on, but stopped in my tracks. That niggling shit my brain loved to do told me I was meant to find them. Still, I warred with myself .

One side of my brain said, You cannot bring them home. They’re not fucking stray cats . The other side of my brain asked, Is this your purpose? Is this why you keep running into them ?

As much as I wanted to help people, I couldn’t keep hauling them home with me.

Well, I’d only done that with Aiden. And, fuck, Zero reminded me so much of him.

He was suffering and crying for help deep inside.

I could see it in those stormy, angry blue eyes of his.

I understood all too well that sense of failure and why he kept snapping and snarling at me.

They were warm, right? Safe?

I could at least check on them.

By morning, the snowplows would run through the streets, burying their car. What if they got trapped? What if it got so cold that they ran their heaters and poisoned themselves with carbon monoxide?

I looked at the back of the car and stared at the exhaust pipe for a second, but nothing was coming out.

I needed to make a quick decision. The subway would stop taking passengers in about thirty minutes.

Fuck it. They could stay with me until the snow melted, but then they had to move on. I didn’t have it in me to take care of them, or anyone. Aiden had been a special case.

I tapped on the window.

There was no response, so I tapped harder.

Suddenly, a window cracked open.

“What? Who’s there?” Zero said.

“It’s Cueball? Open up.”

“We’re fine! Jesus. We don’t need a fucking savior.”

Stubborn fool. I got it. He wanted to be the protector and provider. Letting someone else do it likely contributed to his low self-worth. Still, one should know when to accept help when needed.

“You’re not fine. I’ll take you back to my place. You can stay for a few days.”

“We don’t need charity!”

“Stubborn asshole,” I gritted under my breath before trying to convince his brother. “Zilch, talk sense into him, please.”

If they refused my help, there was little else I could do. They’d just have to be on their own, but I needed them to move it along and decide, so I could get to my train on time if they turned me down.

The window rolled up, so I chalked it up to a loss. There was nothing else to do but go home. That didn’t help my worrying about them. I really wish I could stop that. I couldn’t care about every fucking person I came across.

I heard the car door open behind me, and I turned around to find a shivering Zilch, waving at me before rushing to the driver’s side and climbing in. I opened the passenger side door and squeezed in. It was a tight-as-hell fit with my size and all the shit they had crammed in there.

I glanced in the backseat after buckling up. Zero stared out the window, not looking happy. Then again, I’d only seen him smile once and that was at Zilch. At least he’d be warm. I had the space with a spare bedroom, even if the apartment was shit.

‘Where to?’ Zilch signed.

“Take Jones Falls Trail to East Biddle. Hook a left onto North Caroline Street. I’ll show you.”

He nodded and started the car, letting it get warmed up.

It took us nearly forty minutes to get home, given the amount of snow coming down and the need to drive slowly over the slick roads.

We all climbed out of the car, and I grabbed a couple of their backpacks, tossing them over my shoulder, then hefted a box into my arms. “Grab what you can, lock up, and we’ll come down for the rest later,” I said.

Zero looked around dubiously. “Our shit isn’t safe here.”

He wasn’t wrong. This was one of the poorer neighborhoods in Baltimore.

The city had struggled for a long time with building gentrification, lagging behind.

I could’ve afforded a nicer place, but I just couldn’t be bothered to move or care.

Life had become one foot in front of the other, going through the motions of movement without really getting anywhere.

What was the point? I didn’t really live.

I didn’t really survive. I just dedicated the time I could to finding any sort of fulfillment before I died one day.

Happiness had been hard to come by for the past seven years.

“Fine, I’ll come back down and get the rest. ”

‘We’ll help,’ Zilch said with his hands. I could tell he was a people pleaser. He took on the responsibility of maintaining Zero’s emotions, and probably everyone else’s, while having to deal with his own shit. That could cost a hefty price to one’s mental health if left unchecked.

“That’s fine,” I said. The point was to get them here, and I did that.

As we climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, the area smelled old and musty—there was no other way to describe it—combined with various foods, from cabbage to curry.

When we reached the third floor, I said, “The place isn’t much, but there’s a spare room with a bed.

It’s clean, and I have food. There’s only one bathroom, so we’ll have to share. ”

“Why?” Zero asked, huffing up the steps. “Why’re you doing this?”

Good question. I’d yet to answer that myself.

“It’s only for a few days,” I said, unable to give him a definitive answer.

When we reached my floor, I unlocked the old door, opened it, and stepped aside to let the two young men in.

Zilch walked in first, dropped everything in the living room, and ran around the apartment, opening doors, cabinets, and closets.

I smiled at his childlike excitement. Then he pressed his face to the window, looking out and fogging up the glass.

When he got his fill of the snowy city, he ran back to the living room and saw my old PlayStation.

His bright blue eyes grew wide, and a smile stretched across his face as he clapped, then signed, ‘I love games… been so long.’

“Have at it,” I said, waving my hand at the TV and game console.

Zero was more tentative and cautious, walking around and looking at everything, not that there was much to look at. “You live here?”

“Yep, for almost three years now.”

He set everything down on the parquet flooring and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “There’s nothing here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you literally don’t own one personal item?”