Webs of Fate

1

I'm starving.

Why does she have to work all day? I mean, it's almost six... is the salon even open this late?

Pizza? That looks about a few days old, so I'm assuming that it is not safe to eat. Milk that is way past its expiration date and condiments will do nothing to fill this sharp pain in my stomach. I haven't eaten all weekend being focused on this dumb paper for my Economics class. Honestly, I don't understand how I can work through all this schoolwork on an empty stomach or why I am even wasting my time.

Mateo walks over toward his worn down Jansport backpack, unzipping to find his wallet neatly placed in front of his binders and folders. He opened it wincing slightly at a five dollar bill, two ones and a few movie tickets he and neighbor Oli have accumulated throughout the year.

"Corner store it is..."

He headed toward the front door harshly pulling it open as it always tends to get stuck on the door frame. By the time he was tugging it close to lock, he was breathing hard, pulling the key out. They really needed to get that fixed, but he knew their crappy landlord would never get to it. He glanced toward the four flights of stairs he'd have to climb down groaning before heading over.

He hummed softly as his headphones blared some Kehlani soothing his nighttime walk to his favorite corner shop. Earl's Quick Stop.

The owner name wasn't even Earl. Mr. Ortiz changed it, so it seemed more welcoming rather than having Jose on the large sign. Queens were splattered with mom and pop shops that locals used rather than many of the chain corporations that were trying to make themselves a part of the neighborhood. Gentrification at its finest as he noticed a CVS glowing a few blocks down. The little bell on the door chimed as he made himself notice a 'heyo' escaping from down an aisle, letting him know Mr. Ortiz was there.

"Hola, jefe," Mateo announced, going to the freezer aisle scanning to see the choices. He settled on hotpockets and a bag of Spicy Nacho Doritos before clicking his tongue meeting at the cash register.

"Mom working?" Mr. Ortiz asked, scanning the items, looking over his thin framed glasses. He was a bigger guy with a bald spot and thick mustache. "Never mind if you're eating this crap... she's definitely working." Mateo let out a laugh, handing him the money and taking his change. "You know my wife will more than happy give you some leftovers." With a shake of his head, he placed his headphones back in before walking to the door.

"No thanks, but thanks, pop!"
His footsteps receded back, pushing the door back open, the jingle of the bell being dismissed by Def Leppard. He hated being pitied. The neighborhood practically knew his mom worked day and night since Mateo was born. His absent father was never a topic of discussion. He begged and begged when he was a child for answers or to know, but his mom refused to speak about it. He tried snooping to find any clues but failed miserably. He would have believed he was some miracle baby since there was no proof he even had a father other than basic biology.

His glasses slid down his nose as he looked down at the pavement leading to his place. The streets were filled with men and women smoking or chatting. A few girls skipped rope singing some funny song about an old lady missing a shoe. Even though he couldn't hear it, he knew since it was an everyday thing for the past few years. He hated the thought of leaving soon to go off to college and leave everything behind. The city was his home, but his mother pushed him to try and get into all the best tech schools that were not close to home at all.