för det här är Alaska säger vi?

inte läst igenom nånting av det här tror jag, så jag ansvarar väl typ för eventuella stavfel och skit c:

“Nope", I heard someone answer, Alaska perhaps. All the stuff Mike'd blurted out at me started to make sense to my confused mind. What about Alaska's eyes?

“Oh well", the boy said. Then he climbed up to sit next to Aaron on the bed, reading the Spiderman over his shoulder.

I chose to get back to my question earlier: “So, what about the nicknames?"

“We just have them", Alaska answered. “Some people like Filly here" - he paused and patted the boy beside him on the head - “already had his when I met him. He sounds like a fucking horse when he laughs." He paused again, as if he was thinking. I wondered if he didn't remember why he himself was called Alaska. But then he spoke again: “And Jaw-breaker has broken... almost every single bone in his fucking monkey body or something.. you haven't met him."

I raised an eyebrow, waited a few seconds, then cleared my throat. “And you?"

“Why 'm called Alaska? 'Cause my voice's so husky." He smirked. The others all laughed at his joke, I smiled a little but didn't really get it.

First off, I don't know a lot about dogs, but I've owned a book about them. There is a dog breed called Alaskan Malamute, and one called Siberian Husky. There had obviously been a misunderstanding here about those.

“I don't want to be a party pooper here, but there's no dog called Alaskan Husky", I said. “There's Siberian Husky, of course. But I wouldn't want to be called Siberian..."

Mike started giggling like a little girl, making my self esteem rise slightly. Until, of course, Alaska:

“Mhm... things will be okay, sweetie, hush now." He put a finger over his lips and smiled, giving off a generally creepy feeling. I asked myself whether or not I really wanted to be there, with these people. So far, the only one I even got close to getting along with was Filly.

Thinking about it, I still don't understand what made me keep hanging out with them.

I should confess early on that I actually had no need to steal stuff. I wasn't poor or anything. My parents worked with something that generated a lot of money, though I'm not sure what it was. It required a lot of phone conversation and shouting, and also a bunch of being-away-from-home-time. And we'll leave it at that.

Alaska, as I got to know more about while sitting in Aaron's room reading comic books, did not have my luck. From what I understood, he lived alone in some shitty apartment, barely surviving. That freaked me out.

I managed to hang around for a few hours, then I excused myself smoothly and left. I thought that would be the end of things, I hadn't gotten the impression that they liked me all that much – except for Mike calling me cute of course, but as he'd put it: I shouldn't take it personally.

But never underestimate the power of, I don't know, coincidence?

I wasn't stealing any cellphone that day, wasn't stealing anything really, though a pair of eyes found me nontheless.

No, well, I should tell this story right. Mike had been shopping or whatever in the area, and he saw me. Then he started shouting my name, acting like a little kid. Eventually he caught up with me, attacking me with a sort of jump-hug. I don't know what made him think I was huggable.

Anyway, I shook him off me and looked around, feeling embarrassed by all the looks people were giving me.

“I'm going over to Aaron's, wanna' come?" the boy said happily, waving with hands full of bags.

“I.." I paused. “Yeah, sure."

So I ended up there once again, feeling less like an awkward balloon this time. I didn't sit alone in a corner, at least.

I got myself through the Alaskan greeting: “So you're name was like Ciar or something, right?"

I assured him that it was, deciding not to point out that we'd met just three days ago. Then Mike entertained us by showing all the stuff he'd apparently stolen that day. I doubted the truth of that, since you usually don't get plastic bags and receipts whenever you steal clothes.

As he pulled out a bag with sort of a circus print on, the others laughed a little. Maybe circuses were involved with some inside joke of theirs, I thought.

“Where'd you get that?" Filly asked.

Mike smiled happily.

Annons

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November 2014