2:Moving

"Oh... Yeah." He looked down at his feet, pondering something for a while. I broke his thoughts, gazing at the small girl beside him.
"You really should get her off the curb. Without any blankets or anything anyways. How do you guys survive like this?" It seemed they had nothing. How the hell were they to survive in winter? I was only a few hours on the streets and had already thought about it.
"We got a place downtown in the Styx. Old abandoned building, where a couple more of us stay. Its pretty quiet though so... Keep your mouth shutta 'bout it kay?"
"Sure thing, I think we really oughta get her out of the cold though. It's going to be cold tonight." I stared at him while he thought, his mind ticking over. I counted the seconds in my head.
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...
"Alright..." He sighed and looked to his right. She was sound, but looked uncomfortable; exhausted. Slowly her back would draw in, and out with each breath, her long, brown hair tangled and waving slightly in the wind under the grey, holey hat-beanie that covered her head. I smiled.
"I've got some money, and some things I need to get from home. My father won't be home till around nine, and my mother? She won't be back for another hour or so. She would have left to visit her friend by now. Both of you could come with me and get a proper feed if you like? The only downside is that I'd have to break into my own house, but that's easy." I watched his face flash between emotions and his eyes flicker to the girl beside him. His hands rubbed nervously on the rough concrete that he sat on. Taking another drink out of the thermos, he put it back into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and with a hard face accepted my invitation on terms that I'd carry the girl so that she could remain sleeping. I was still denied her full name. After all, it's only polite that she introduce herself he said.

I stood with my hands at my sides, fingers touching my thighs, one by one like you see in those old cheesy western movies. Thumb, index, middle, ring then pinky finger and finally back to thumb again. I was thinking about the most comfortable way to lift her. A few seconds more passed and I decided, putting my arm under her back. I paused there, asking if she'd wake. He replied telling me she was a heavy sleeper. I put my other arm under her legs and lifted her up relatively easily. She was light. My house was a block down and around the corner. It wasn't so far, I just didn't know what to expect if she woke up on me. Finch asked where my house was and I pointed in its direction. He nodded and set off. I followed behind him as if he was the one leading and absently studied the rather interesting creature I carried.
Her skin was pale and her hair matted and a mess but her features were soft. Innocent. I could feel each slow, relaxed breath she took and marveled at her fashion choices. Of course, it was likely they weren't choices, but as if that mattered. It was still intriguing to me.
Her jeans were ripped at the knee and the other patched with red. Her jacket was a dark navy which was ripped in the breast and covered a grey oversized t-shirt which looked more from the men's section that women's. Around her wrists were a collection of various bracelets, of wooden beads, weaved string and a black plastic band while around her neck was a thin, crimson scarf. It looked so out of place, such a pretty piece of clothing. It was adorned with intricate gold and silver slivers embroidered into the slightly grimy material. Beneath it hid the tiny sliver of silver. A small, delicate pendant almost completely hidden from view.
I could see my house. The white double story clean and pristine. Almost no garden, just a little grass showed how little time my parents spent at home. Regardless, everything was exceptionally clean.
I called to Finch, pointing it out. I saw his eyes widen a bit. I knew the thought which was probably running through his head... How much he'd give to live in such a house.
It was nice, I must admit, my house. An older, more aged style of architecture gave a calm, homely aesthetic.
Such a deception as to what went on inside it. 'Never judge a book by it's cover'  had  not once applied so much more to me than with this place.
I caught up with Finch and carried the girl up the path and onto the porch, settling her into a chair. He was still shocked by my house. I ignored his wonder and checked the door just in case. Locked, as I expected. No cars in the driveway. I crouched down and lifted the welcome mat up. No key.
I sighed and checked above the door frame. Nothing.
The little pot plant  beside the door provided nothing either.
I growled and checked the windows. Both locked. He obviously didn't want me back.
I exhaled heavily and counted the shoes and boots which were lined up on the wall.
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...
I  turned up the shoes I never ever wore and shook them. Work boots. Something small and silver dropped to the floor with a clinking sound. My key.
I laughed to myself and brought it to the lock, wiggling it a little and finally getting the door open.
Finch gingerly held it open, afraid to leave but a mark on the white paint while I lifted the girl up again and carried her inside. Amazingly, she still didn't wake up. She must have been exhausted.
The suddenly timid boy was still lingering at my front door. I called him over into the living room and he walked straight into the middle of the room, astounded. I ushered him to sit and he obeyed and did nothing more. Amused I went to the kitchen and raided our fridge. There was leftover carbonara that I had made the night before. I chucked it into the microwave and went up to my room on the second floor.
I grabbed my dark rucksack from the corner. In it i put my  ipod and a charger (If by some chance we came across power, I don't know.),  a couple pairs of jeans, a jacket, two shirts, my wallet and my pocket knife. I went back downstairs and grabbed a torch from the cupboard above the stove and picked up a sleeping bag from the linen cupboard. Putting my things at the door I glanced back into the living room to see that Finch was still sitting in the chair. Grinning, I went to get his dinner.