The girl called Sketch looked at the man across the fire from her.
Something about him bothered her. She wasn't sure what it was. In her
15 years of living she hadn't yet learned to spot the corruption in
others, but her instincts told her something was wrong with him.

      "Like Sketch pulled the other day!" At the mention of her name
she glanced over at the speaker, a kid called Kit. At 4' nothing, he
was the shortest of the local homeless crowd, but hidden in his small
frame was a very sharp mind.

    "huh?" Sketch replied cleverly. "What did I pull?"
 
  "Oh Damn, get your head out of the clouds chicka. I was talkin' bout
the 6 cartons of smokes you liberated from the grocery store." Kit
passed a joint over and she took a long draw on it before passing it on
to Roach. Roach was a 20 something girl with too much attitude and not
enough brains.

    "Yeah, that was cool." Sketch mused "Sold 'em off to tourists for 3
buck a pack." She grinned and glanced back at the man who bothered her.
Roach had brought  him down to the beach, said his name was Tyler or
some such. He seemed too clean for this crowd, and he didn't talk much.
She watched him take a long drag on the joint and chug from his 40oz
beer before exhaling.

Sketch shook her head, decided she would just steer clear of him, and went back to enjoying what she could of her evening.
*****
    
She woke early, as usual. Her back was pressed against the firepit,
which was still warm, but the rest of her body was chill and stiff.
Sand may mold to the body, but it was still a hard bed. Besides, the
sun was beginning it's daily journey across the sky, and the beach
patrol would be along soon to clear the beach for the moneyed
tourists.She glanced around, saw River on his side, still dead to the
world, Spike yawning, and heard, rather than saw Kit snoring on the far
side of the fire pit.

     With a half grin on her face she dug into her bag, and pulled out 2 cans of beer, tossing one at Spike.
 He
caught it, barely, and grinned, popping it open and guzzling half of
it. At the distinct sound of the can opening, Kit sat up, blinking.

     "Eh? Party starting again?" Kit reached over and shoved River in the back.
    
River groaned and rolled over. "Is it light already? Damn, what time is
it?" He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his face, grimacing.

     "It's beer-thirty" Sketch said, passing him the other can of beer.
     "Hey, where did Roach go?" Kit voiced the question Sketch was just beginning to wonder.
     "Oh she and that Tyler guy wandered off in the wee hours of the morning" River replied, "Goin' to go get their fuck on!"

     Loud laughter from all 3 men followed that, but Sketch only chuckled, a little worried for Roach.
     "Hey Sketch, how come you never put out?" Spike leered at her.
     "Because you don't have the right equipment to interest me."

     "What?! Since when have you been a lezzie?"
     "I was reffering to a brain, not your junk, dumbass."
     As everyone one burst into laughter, Spike looked dumbfounded for a moment, before joining in the laughter.

     The 2 beers were passed around as they all made ready for the day.
    
"Aite. I catch you guys later, I'm off to the Black to see if I can
hustle up some change." Sketch shouldered her pack and waved as she
wandered up the beach.

     "Take it easy chicka!"
     "Kick some ass!"
     "Be careful mei-mei."
     The last was from Kit, and Sketch shook her head and smiled back over her shoulder at him.
    
"Always!" she chuckled. He told her to be careful anytime she went off
on her own. He had taken her under his wing when she first hit the
streets, and was a kind of big brother to her. As she slowly wandered
along the  boardwalk to the far end of the beaches, called the Black by
locals, she let her mind wander.

     She had been living on the streets for just over 6 months now, and
she knew a few tricks to survive. What restraunts would give you food,
what churches did bag lunches. Tricks to shoplifting, how to "spange" a
term for panhandling. Her 2 biggest problems were her age, and
sex.Being female was sometimes an asset, people tended to be more
generous to a girl panhandling than a guy. But being only 15 and on the
books as a runaway, she had to step twice as fast to avoid the law.

     When her mother had told her "As long as you live in my house you
live by my rules" Sketch had taken her at her word, and left. She had
little use for rules in her world, it seemed they were all designed to
stop her from being herself, or from being free.

     Becoming a street kid was a fast and hard lesson to learn at 14,
but she had survived, and for the first time in her life she felt
honestly free. She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, and
only had herself and her pack to take care of. One of the first lessons
Kit had taught her was the value of your pack. Weather it was a rack
pack, a sea bag or a backpack, it held your whole life when you were a
street kid.

     But freedom came with a price,  paid every time she slept on sand
or concrete, paid every  time she had to dodge the law, paid every time
she fought to keep what was hers.
    
Rousing herself out of her ruminations, she found a likely spot on the
boardwalk and pulled out her guitar, setting out and offering bowl and
tuning. Today should bring a good bit of change, plenty of tourist out
on the beach today.

*****
     Sketch glanced back at the group
on the boardwalk. Roach and Kit waved when they saw her looking. She
had been relived when Roach showed back up today, but didn't say
anything about her worries pertaining to Ty. Didn't matter much anyway,
word was that Ty was heading off to AZ somewhere. That suited Sketch
just fine, she still didn't like him. She caught him staring at her a
couple times over the last week, and it made her skin crawl. She
shrugged, readjusted her pack and headed inland to find a likely place
to catch a few hours rest. She had a few ideas, but wanted something
close, she was tired. She cut through the supermarket parking lot
looking for the entrance to the parking garage next door. This time of
year the parking garage made a decent place to sleep, not too cold, and
out of the way, She slipped into the stairwell, and headed down toward
the lowest level, just under street level. She was thinking that with a
little luck she may actually get a couple undisturbed hours of sleep.
Below ground also ment less light, and less people. Noone parked on the
lowest level till the peak of tourist season, still a few months away.
Maybe it's time for another walkabout she thought to herself, maybe
head east and see what that was like. Or maybe up north, she wanted to
see the redwoods and had heard good things about OR and WA. But it gets
cold up north and  she wasn't really a fan of the cold, after all she ...

     "Well hello little Sketch." A voice interrpted her train of
thought. Tyler stood leaning against the wall half a flight of stairs
above her.
     "Uh, hey Ty." She mentally cursed her bad luck, and herself, for not hearing him sooner.

     "Looking for a nook to catch some Zs in? I could keep ya warm." He grinned at her.
    
She forced a laugh "Naw, I'm fine. Not cold tonight." Sketch's mind
was racing, how to ditch him and find a new place to crash. He started
down to stairs toward her and she struggled to keep up the facade of
mild amusement. "I was lookin' for Kit. What are you up to?"

     "Me? just looking for some pleasant company." He drew even with
her and leaned toward her. "You look like pleasant company."
     She drew back against the wall and smiled. "Sorry, I got other plans tonight."

     He placed his hands on the walls on either side of her and leaned even closer. "But we could have so much fun!"
     Sketch had had enough. "Back the fuck up off me Ty, I'm not interested."

     Tyler grinned, and Sketch felt her skin crawl as her insides seemed to turn to ice.
~To be continued~