Safe Haven

Eleven

New Mexico wasn't like Mexico.

It just looked like an extension of Arizona. Why slap the word 'new' in front of something when it's not a better version (or a resemblance) of the original? Stupid.

"Feel like eating real food?" Aiden asked, pointing at a modest restaurant that read 'Authentic Tacos'. It was probably better than our heart attack inducing Slim Jims we'd been snacking on for the past 3 hours, so I agreed and waited while he parked the car.

The inside of the taco joint was cramped and consisted mostly of rusted looking sheets of metal making up the walls to appear more 'Mexican' in some kind of odd stereotypical way. Where there wasn't metal, there were synthetic pueblo looking counter tops that held condiments and napkins, along with a cash register that was set up in front of the kitchen. Cracked leather booths and wooden tables painted green sat about the small space, and sombreros participated as lamp shades. A pedophilic looking cactus with a face and maracas occupied the far corner of the room--it was probably the most sinister thing I've ever seen.

"Hola, welcome to Authentic Tacos where our tacos are mucho delicioso. What can I get for you?" droned a acne ridden teen with a name tag that said Jose. Judging from his pale skin and fire red hair, I highly doubted that was his real name; he looked more like a Craig.

Aiden ordered tacos for the both of us while Craig stared ahead with blank eyes. I chose a table, and picked at the chipping paint until Aiden brought me a plate that had soggy looking tacos dropped on it.

"This place really lives up to it's name..." I poked at the greyish tortilla and curled my lip in disgust. Aiden took a bite, and I watched; waiting for him to vomit.

"It's actually not that bad," He said mid chew, "If you plug your nose and focus on anything but the slimy texture." I laughed and took a bite. They were awful.

We finished our gross meal and headed back to lot; deciding to take Craig's unassuming pick up truck for serving us the diseased tacos. Aiden obscured the license plate while I flicked the bobble head of Marilyn Monroe that was stuck to the dash board. Aiden hot wired the car and when it sputtered to life, we sped out into the street.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and focused on my toes. "What were the names of those men you were with?" I asked quietly. After all, I should know everything I could incase I'm asked questions about what happened to me.

"I don't know their last names, but I could tell you their first." He answered, changing the radio station. "The men who were with me are Elarick, Seth and Rome."

"Which one's Blondie?"

"Blondie?"

"I didn't know their name's so I had to come up with something to identify them with." I said impatiently.

Aiden chuckled, "Okay, well Blondie is Seth. The black guy is Rome and Elarick is the last one."

"The Scottish Guy." I mused.

"Are you serious? You really gave us code names?" He barked out a laugh to which I made a face. "What was my 'code name'" he asked, glancing at me with an easy grin.

My cheeks heated up as I took sudden interest in my split ends, "Golden Eyes..." I mumbled. I couldn't decide if I was relieved or scared when he didn't laugh.

"Golden Eyes." He repeated thoughtfully. "Because you saw my face, right?" I nodded. "Well I had a code name for you too."

"You did?" I said too excitedly, then cleared my throat and lowered my voice, "I mean; you did?"

"Yeah. Bruised Face."

My cheeks flamed once again in embarrassment while he laughed and laughed and laughed.

"It was your fault that my face was swollen!" I yelled to be heard over his obnoxious laughing and the country song that was playing on the radio.

"I know I know, sorry--" He coughed to cover a laugh and my frown deepened, "I couldn't help myself. It was too perfect to pass up." I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my body away from him to the window.

Jerk. He's such a jerk.

A beautiful jerk.

I blinked hard to erase the thought and refused to talk to him. I turned my mind to other things like college and my future and ended up day dreaming about that for the longest time.

"You know what we could really use?" Aiden said suddenly, dragging me out of my reprieve, "Tooth paste." yes! "And underwear." what?

As much as I needed those 2 things, underwear was a private matter, and since he wouldn't leave me alone for more than 5 minutes, I was going to be stuck going underwear shopping with Aiden!

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

If I bought the panties that came in a pack, he might think I'm boring, but if I buy a cute thong, he might think I'm trying to impress him, but if I get the cuter panties that don't come in a pack, he'll see each individual one and judge my taste! And Oh God! Bra shopping! How do I get out of that?! Wait! I'm not supposed to care!

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

But I don't even like going intimate shopping with my dad or my mom, so technically, I'm not necessarily caring what Aiden thinks of me; I'm just being conservative.

"Oh--yea! Useful stuff..." I scrambled to say and laughed nervously when he gave me a look.

"Yea..." he dragged out the word warily, "I was thinking Target?" I nodded my head and worked hard to moisten my dry mouth.

Oh boy.