Operation Military Run (In Progress)

(4) Here Comes Trouble

"So... your mother left you when you were only a year old?" I asked, my eyes peeled on the road but very interested in what he was explaining.

"Basically." He sighed. I took a quick glance at him and he was gazing out of the passenger window out into the setting sun that was already behind the mountains, kissing the tops of them.

"I'm sorry." I said, keeping my eyes peeled on the road.

"Nah, it's fine."

"If it makes you feel any better, my mom died when I was younger. And my dad hates me."

I could feel his blue eyes looking at me, widened, "Why is that?"

"My mother developed cancer when I was about a year old. She died a little while after she got it. My father hates me because of the fact that I joined the Marines. He begged and begged for me to not leave, but... it didn't work."

"Well, that's obvious." He laughed.

As we made our way into Colorado Springs, the lights of the city and cars passing through illuminated the sky with a yellow tint.

For the next twenty minutes, we sat awkward silence, the radio playing a bunch of different rock songs. After that awkward silence, we had arrived to my apartment complex that was near Cheyenne mountain and I looked over to Joe, who was trying his hardest to stay awake.

Stepping out of the car, I shut the door behind me and grabbed my bag out of the trunk, throwing Joe his.

"So... this is where you live?" He questioned, looking up at the hotel styled complex.

"It's nothing special," I said, slamming the trunk shut, "but yes."

We walked in into the double wide doors to the lobby area, over toward the elevator. Joe was still taking his time, looking around at the expensive furniture and the fireplace that was crackling in the corner.

Making our way up the elevator and to my apartments door, I opened it to the the smell of hardwood and a hint of peach from the Sentsy pot I owned.

He looked at me and let me walk in first. I turned on the light to white walls surrounding us and dark hard wood flooring.

"It's so nice..." He awed, looking up at the drywall ceiling.

I gave him a small tour of the medium sized apartment that I had bought just months before I decided to go into the military, then I decided to show him to his room, which wasn't anything special. A queen sized bed with black and white comforters that was much to feminine for a man, but it seemed like he didn't care as he put his suitcase on top of the bed and unzipped it.

A 40 inch flat screen TV sat on a dark oak wood dresser that matched the dark wood that was outside of the room.

In each of the rooms, the wood turned into white carpet. He also had his own personal bathroom which wasn't big. It had a sink, a towel rack, a toilet (obviously) and a shower. The towels I had set up were black and so were the carpets lying around on the floor.

"Thank you." He said, looking at me.

"For what?"

"Letting me stay with you." A smile crept upon his face.

I smiled back at him as I walked toward the bedroom door, "You're welcome."

"I really didn't have anywhere to go..." he looked at me.

"Why is that?"

"When I went to Virgina, my girlfriend; or my ex, decided to throw me out. She was pregnant, but it wasn't my kid. She decided to tell me while I was there. It ruined my whole trip, but I can go get my shit and get out whenever."