January 13, 1939

Aiden's house was located a few blocks from the school. Well, I would not say it was a house, exactly. From the street, it looked abandoned. The roof was at an odd angle, slightly falling in. It was a complete mess, to put it nicely. From outside the boarded windows, the shabby wood paneling and the pealing door that was bolted with iron rods, all looked scary and threatening enough to keep the neighbors away. Aiden did not mind. He walked me right up to the steps, and into the place he called home. All the children I had seen from that day had been in one room or another. There were no doors separating the rooms on the ground floor yet everyone had their own section.

"Where is your room?" I asked. 

Aiden took me by the hand, leading the way. My footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, which was aesthetically pleasing. We walked to the furthest part of the house. There were two mattresses on the floor, both were new. There is water dripping from the roof, rhythmically, generating a soul sound in the background. We both sat on the same mattress and talked.

"My brother will not be back for a while. We can wait here until he gets back." He leaned on the wall, dusting off invisible dust on his shoulders.

"Why are you being nice to me? It's weird."

"If you do not want to be here, you can always leave. I don't know what's with you people in this town acting like everyone is against you. You could have easily walked half a mile to the nearest barber." He hit a nerve. I stood up, brushing past him. He grabbed me by the arm, forcing my back against the wall.

"Nickolas, look at me. This whole time you have been staring at the ground. Even in class, you just keep your head down. What's wrong?"

"How do you know my name?" He looked confused for a second, removing his hands from my shoulder.

"Your name is Nickolas, right? Doesn't everyone know your name?"

"No, it's just that no one calls me by my first name. I'm the Focker boy. The dumb kid with the dead friend. I don't even know why Ms. Moore sat you next to me."

"And what if I want too?" The corners of his lips turned upward. He moved closer to me. The heat from his fingers creeps into my consciousness and I want to pull my hand away. His face is inches away from mine, and my chest starts to hurt.

"Aiden, what the hell are you doing?" A guy rushes in pushing me to the ground. He's all build and muscle, but I am astonished he did not break my jaw or my back. Aiden helped me get back up to my feet. His eyes; a well of jet black ink, held a gaze more fearsome than a tiger. A thin paper cigarette hung from his bottom lip, a small trail of smoke escaping from the corner of his mouth danced its way to the ceiling above us. He was pissed. 

"We weren't doing anything," Aiden answered. He sat on his mattress, pulling the collar of his shirt up to cover his mouth. "He wanted to know about your work, Andrew. That's all." His brother grabbed a pair of scissors and waved them in my direction.

"Okay, let's go." The haircut was several inches shorter than I had asked for. But it was too late now. My dead hair was scattered across the wooden floor and I could feel the cool breeze on my neck where there should have been hair. I refused to look in a mirror until I got home. "Thanks."

"No problem, come back anytime." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aiden slip his brother fifty cents.

"You should have kept it long. I liked it that way," he said, sitting next to me. "Short hair doesn't suit you."

"You don't like it?"

"I like it, but it does not look right to me." He ran his fingers through my hair, slowly. Then, he dropped his hands. "You look different."

"Is it that bad?" I ran through my hair again and again.

"No." That wasn't convincing at all. 

"You're stuck with this for the next three months." His mouth twitched, and I was pretty sure he was fighting a smile. Aiden's brother came back to mess with us later on. He escorted me to the front door as soon as the moon started peaking  through the clouds. I went home about an hour later and immediately went to bed. Today seemed like a long day.