Identity - Rewritten

Chapter Four

March 2007

Eva shivers, the cold of the night poking at her exposed stomach, grabbing with its claws at her legs. She totters on sky high heels, wrapping her arms around her torso, and makes her way back to the three other girls she's with. One is holding a bottle of some kind of alcohol, and Eva grabs it from her, thin fingers wrapped tight around the bottle neck, and chugs it without a thought. The alcohol makes her fingers a little warmer, but the cold clutches at her like before.

Good thing the cold isn't her only reason for downing the stuff like it's water.

"Damn, girl, slow down," one of the other girls says with a barely-there laugh, her voice rough and throaty from years of cigarettes. The woman– Star– is probably about twenty-six, far her senior. Eva looks away, handing the bottle back to Angel.

Coughing at the sting left in her throat, Eva looks around the deserted street corner warily. There's a laundromat behind them, its harsh yellow lights spilling out onto the sidewalk, and she wishes more than anything that they could go wait inside.

Shuffling to her left, Eva looks around the fourth woman, Kitty, both hoping and dreading to see the car they're waiting for.

"Shit, what's taking them so long?" Eva swears, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms for warmth. In a halter top, push-up bra, and tiny jean shorts, she wishes that she'd dressed warmer. No matter the consequence. She pushes aside the thought, standing up straighter.

Angel giggles, already having had possession of the bottle for too long. Her mascara is clumpy and her eyeshadow a little smeared, and Eva resists the urge to stare at her matted white-blond hair. "Calm down, Roxy, Jesus," she says, rolling her surprisingly clear hazel eyes. "They'll be here in a minute."

Kitty smiles, not even seeming bothered by the cold, pulling down her tiny top to expose more of her lacy bra. "Here they are, ladies" she says, turned to the road, where the headlights of a car are appearing.

"Fucking finally," Angel says, taking another pull of the bottle. "Who do you reckon–"

Star interrupts her. "Shut up and look pretty," the woman hisses, slapping on a smile of her own before turning her attention back in the direction of the road. The car– a cherry red mustang that looks blood-colored in the illumination of the street lights– slows down, stopping next to them. The window closest to them slides down with a quiet whir, and all the women lean unconsciously toward it, like moths to a flame. Eva can feel the air of sweat and lust pouring from the car, thick on her skin, and the man inside looks to be in his late forties, with thinning hair and a discolored, leering smile.

Star shoots them all a warning look, and steps closer to the car, leaning down through the window and giving the man a good look at her chest.

"Why hello there," she purrs, and the three girls behind her put on a show of giggling and preening. The man takes Star's hand through the window, placing a kiss on it, eyes at her chest. He looks over her shoulder when he's finished his inspection of her, eyes on Angel, Kitty, and then Eva. She can see his decision the second his eyes land on her.

"I'm only paying for one– I want the brunette," he says, giving her a long look up and down. Eva suppresses a shiver, and it's only partly due to the cold.

She nods after a second, turning to Angel and taking the bottle from her loosening grip. She takes a swig, noting the girl's defeated expression. Eva can relate– without this, she and Junior won't have anything to eat by dinner tomorrow, and twelve year old boys have an appetite like you wouldn't believe. Not to mention, he needs a new pair of sneakers badly– his current ones are a size too small and falling apart at the seams. Kitty takes the bottle back from Eva, as Angel doesn't seem up for doing much more than sniffling, gaze anywhere other than on her.