“Oh… Well… So how old are you?”

“Almost 21.”

“And where are your interviews tomorrow? What sort of work are you looking for?”

I took a breath. Now we were heading back to easy waters. I explained that I was applying to some small salons in the area, wanting to gain some experience before trying my hand at some of the larger and more elite looking salons. Tina noticed that I felt more at ease and continued questions along this line, and we chatted for a bit about salons, attitudes of hair dressers, the different levels of stylists and such, things of that nature. The whole time, Bette sat back and let Tina lead the conversation. For the first time in our time knowing each other, Bette was the one sitting back listening, and I was the one talking.

“So, how long have you been in LA? Are you from here?” Tina asked it so innocently and casually, like the rest of the conversation we had been having, it almost threw me off.

“Um, no, I’m not from here. I moved here about six years ago.” Both Bette and Tina got wide-eyed for a moment, and I could tell. They knew. They assumed, and rightly so, that I had been on the streets for six years. The pit in my stomach returned again.

As if knowing it was now or never, and deciding to take the plunge, Tina sat forward.

“Have you been all alone on Santa Monica for the last six years? Where were you staying? What did you do for money? Is your family here too?”

Suddenly there were too many questions, too many assumptions being made about me. We were sitting outside but suddenly I was feeling very trapped. I stood up quickly.

“Look, I’m gonna go…” I started heading towards the back gate. Bette jumped up and stood in front of me.

“No, Shane, wait! Please, come back, sit down, let’s talk.”

I stepped back from Bette as she reached out to touch my arm. I turned around to head through the house to the front door but Tina stepped in front of me, blocking the door to the house.