2. Rexford, Idaho

At some point, I've just come to accept "Steve" as his name, as he's never going to give me his actual name. I don't blame him. We're strangers to each other. But now, that's upgraded to roommates.

It's shocking, but I guess it's not at the same time. He's got a lot that he didn't when I found him on the road. Why would he want to leave, anyway?

He's also been pulling his weight. He actually helped me clean up the mess that was the place when I brought him home. For the most part he hung out at the house.

Today is no different. This time, he's trying to take it upon himself to make breakfast in the house. How do I know? I smell something burning from my bedroom, to which I leap out of bed and trot down the hall to make sure my kitchen isn't on fire. It's not, thank God, but Steve is trying helplessly to put it out. He looks totally clueless as to what to do.

I sigh and nudge him out of the way so I can put out the black, burning ball that is the attempt at breakfast. I look at Steve sympathetically.

"Did you take your eyes off it?" I ask.

"I might have..." He doesn't meet my eye. "I was in the refrigerator looking for something."

"Don't kick yourself. I'm just glad the house is still existing." I chuckle. "How about we just go out for breakfast instead?"

"Sierra, you don't need to do that for me. I'm already taking—"

"Please, I insist." I move the burned breakfast into the trash can. "Get a shower if you haven't and get changed."

Steve passes me so he can find the bathroom. I hear the shower go on faintly, so I know he's getting ready. I pass the bathroom to get back into my bedroom. I don't choose sweats, just a simple jeans, t-shirt, and jacket combo. I rarely go anywhere without the jacket. I'm only jacketless at home.

As I'm straightening myself out in the bedroom, Steve pops his head in, or rather, his entire body. I cry out, covering my eyes.

"What?" he panics. "What is it?"

"Decency, Steve! Decency!" I don't uncover my eyes, because I know the first place they'll travel is his down under. "Towel, underwear, I don't care!" This shouldn't be this traumatizing. Not that I've never seen a guy's penis and whatnot, but I barely know this guy!

"Oh. Oh. Oops, sorry. It's safe now, Sierra."

"I don't believe you!" I turn away from the open doorway, trying to erase the glimpse in my head.

"No, really. Turn around, look."

There's no teasing tone, so I take the leap of faith. I'm still a little disturbed from a few seconds ago, but at least he's got the decency to keep his nether parts out of my line of vision by only poking his head in.

"T-thank you," I breathe out. "Next time, have a towel down there. Or underwear. Just...just don't let me see that again."

"I'll remember."

"Get dressed," I groan.

Steve scurries away, and I quickly walk past the closed bathroom door, looking for the keys to my truck.

I'll have a hard time getting that image out of my head.

* * *

"As much as I appreciate helping the homeless, you got to pull a little more weight around," I tell Steve over pancakes at the diner. It's odd, to watch him eat. He looks as though he barely gives himself time to swallow food before he pops in another mouthful. "Meaning it's time you get a job."

"Where would we even start?"

"We'll drive around town if we have to, see if anyone's advertising for hiring." I shrug. I pop another syrup-soaked bite into my mouth. "If not, we go job hunting on the Internet."

"Do you work?"

"No, but I'm trying to look into it." I look out the window to my right. "The guy I had staying with me, he had a nice job. Good income. When he moved in, he'd offered to cover us since I'd just lost my job before then."

"Where did you work before?"

"Ironically where I met my last boyfriend. I was a guidance counselor for a community college, he was one of the professors there. It wasn't because of our relationship, we had budget cuts. It sucked, because I loved working there. I counseled some interesting people."

"Why not go somewhere and work for another school system?"

"That requires moving, which I don't have the money for. I have a lot of time, sure, but..." I bite my lip. "Besides, it'd be just me. I don't know a lot of people here."

"Where are we, anyway?"

"Rexford, Idaho. Small town, ironically. I'm more like a ghost around here. People see me, but they don't really know me, I guess. I'm sorry, I shouldn't bore you with my backstory. I shouldn't complain to you about it."

"No, don't apologize for it."

I tilt my head. "You got any story for me?"

"A lot of it you wouldn't understand. It's...complicated."

"I'm not saying you have to tell me. Sometimes I have a habit of telling people things." I shrug. "It's not a trait for everyone."

I watch Steve curiously. There's almost a sad appreciation in his eyes, if such a thing exists. Like he appreciates what's around him, yet he...There's something there that I can't figure out. It's not my place to get answers. If he wants to tell me, he will. I'm not going to torture the guy for information.

We eat breakfast in silence.

* * *

"Good," I say later that night. "This one doesn't require a resume, just an application to get filled out. Easy." I hand the laptop over to Steve and watch as he fills out the information as best as he can online.

We'd had some luck after breakfast. The Gas-N-Sip was hiring, so we picked Steve up an application there. Other than that, we were out of luck. We had ourselves turn to the Internet for answers. Since neither of us wanted to deal with resume writing, that severely limited our options. But a small, entry-level job is what Steve needs. It's nothing too overwhelming.

Meanwhile, I flick the TV on and find the local news. I shake my head as I listen in on the report.

"This is perhaps the most startling case Rexford has ever been hit with," says the male reporter, who looks old enough to retire. Behind him, I assume, is the crime scene. We see the faint figure of police moving the caution tape so they can get inside. "There were no bodies found at the scene, but a rather abundant amount of...some kind of pink substance. We have no word yet on what the said substance is. It is a case that has even police baffled. What does the pink goo have to do with anything? Where are the bodies?

"One thing is definite here: something strange happened in this house."

"Pink substance?" Steve says next to me. I see him pick his head up out of the corner of my eye.

"It's probably a home invasion gone wrong. The invaders probably took them hostage and for some reason decided to pour a lot of Pepto-Bismol in the place." I shrug. "It's a strange world out there, Steve." That's something I know all too well. "So, how's the application going?" I ask conversationally.

"It's submitted."

"Good. Did you fill out the one for the Gas-N-Sip?"

"Yes."

I nod. "We can drop it off tomorrow."

"Did you look into anything for yourself, Sierra?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. I want to get you started first way before I start looking for myself."

"Did anything we find for me appeal to you?"

I purse my lips. "Not really. Sorry if I crushed your hopes of working together." Momentary silence. "I hope they catch the freaks who did that." I nod towards the TV, as it's now cut away to commercial. "Something like this isn't normal. Rexford is for the most part a pretty quiet town."

"A quiet town with good people."

I smile faintly.

**Give it time, you guys. The action will pick up soon enough.

But, you gotta admit, these two <3**