Chapter 10

Zine started down the road, making his way back home.

He took a bite of his food, enjoying the taste of ketchup and doing his best not to think of the ingredients that go in hot dogs.

He took a sip of his coffee drink, and out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. There was a dog hanging out in an alley.

It must have been lured towards him by the smell of his food.

He looked at the pup, it was a copper pitbull with droopy ears. A stray mutt, and it was staring at his hot dog, sniffing the air.

He looked at his food.

I need to eat, he thought.

He looked back at the dog.

Oh but so does he.

He sighed, squatting down, turning towards the dog and whistled.

“Here boy, come here I got a cheap ass hot dog for you.”

The dog took a step towards him, then trotted slowly to him submissively, its tail wagging between its legs.

He offered the dog his food, and it took it.

Zine sniffed, taking in the dogs scent and realized he had mistaken the dog's gender. It was a girl, and she had puppies somewhere.

Zine had spent a lot of his time with stray dogs, so it was easy for him to tell things about them from their scent. His nose was not as sensitive as a dog’s, but it was much stronger than a human's.

He gently ran his hand over the dog's pelt, checking for parasites. He couldn't find any, the dog kept herself rather clean.

After the dog had finished the food, she started sniffing Zine looking for more. When she found out he didn't have anymore food, she started licking his hands.

“Damn it, he mumbled, she's adorable!” He sighed.

“God dang it I want a dog.”

Or, any animal would actually do,.....You know, you are legally able to make your own life choices now...You could get a dog...and so long as it doesn't have any major medical expenses, you could afford one. Especially since, the government gave you a thousand dollars because you left the foster care system early, Zine thought.

The government gave any kids who got emancipated at sixteen a thousand dollars, saying it was to help the kid get on their feet. He thought it might be to just get kids out of the system faster. They never had enough room at any of the orphanages.

But, could I give it the attention it would need? Dogs need a lot of love and should not be left alone for long. He would be too busy with school, the fighting ring, and the job at the coffee shop he was going to try to get later today, Zine worried.

He had called ahead, a few days ago and set up an interview at twelve o’clock. Then after that he had to go to the public school, and speak to the principal to see if he was going to go there.

There were two schools in this city: the public school and private school. To get into the private school, you had to pay or get a scholarship. His grades were good enough to get the scholarship but he didn't know if he could keep them that good.

If he didn't keep his grades high enough, he would lose the scholarship, and be forced to pay his tuition. He definitely could not afford to pay it at all. He needed to save for college life.

What was the name of the private school? H Private, I think? Going to a school like that would look fantastic to any college he wanted to attend, though.

Heck, it would look good on any job resume. But the people who go there, are all probably rich, preppy kids, and he wouldn't fit in with them. Not with his dog collar and well, everything?

His clothes were bargain brand, bought on sale, or from thrift stores. His body was freaky, unexplainable, and he had social anxiety when it came to dealing with anyone his age.

He found people his age, way too different from himself. At his last school, he got away with being alone. He roundhouse kicked a bully in the face on the first day. Needless to say, everyone kept their distance after that.

Yeah, probably better to go to the public school. At least the kids might be closer to his own financial situation, and it should be easier for him to blend in.

He sipped his coffee, the dog had laid down on the cracked sidewalk, and had been enjoying getting pet by him. But the dog suddenly got up and trotted off back into the alley.

All of his problems in life, were tied to money, his age, or time. He didn't have enough money, he didn't have time, he was too young, and blah blah blah. When was he going to be able to build his life properly?

He had a lot of money saved in the bank. About nine thousand sixty-ish dollars. He had started saving like a madman, after joining the fighting ring. He didn't have a bank account at the time, so he had hid all of the money in a box under the floorboards in his old room.

Money from part-time jobs, the fighting ring, and the money that came from the foster care system every month. They sent around a hundred dollars every month for him to get things he needed and to help pay for food.

His foster father took some of the money for food expenses and left a random amount on the counter for him to buy clothes or school supplies. But because of his ability to save and carefully work with his limited resources, he rarely used even a cent of the money. So after he was emancipated, and moved, he opened his own bank account, put all of his money in, then went to check out his apartment.

Zine sighed, leaned against an electric pole, and took another sip of his drink. He took in his environment, looking up at the building across his and choked on his coffee.

The man from before was standing on the roof of the building, staring down at him. WHEN DID HE GET THERE?! He mentally shrieked.

The man parted his lips, his face still full of longing, but he said nothing. Zine pushed off the pole, and the man startled.

“Wait, please wait love.” The man said softly.

Wait, love? Zine​ thought in confusion.

The man jumped down from the roof of the building, and took a step in his direction.

“NOPE!” Zine said flinging his hands into the air and took off down the street again.