Chapter 17

The next morning Oliver woke up with the sunshine appreciating the sunrise once again; they got a room in a small motel on the outskirts of Dinashia and decided to stop by to buy warm clothes for Oliver. The cold started to get more intense, and getting sick would only slow them down more. The green-eyed boy was fascinated by all the different clothes in that store, he had never had the opportunity to try on or buy clothes for himself, so it was all new and exciting. Chrystal Daly was very patient with him when it came to choosing what he liked and needed; in the end, he chose some dark green thermal pants and a T-shirt, as well as a jacket with a brown hat, gloves, socks, and the best of all: shoes, nice and comfortable brown boots.

"What do you think? Do they fit, or are they too tight?"

Oliver wasn't smiling much, but this was the first time Chrystal had seen the freckled man with a huge smile for his boots; it was like seeing a kid in a candy store.

"It feels strange; I've never had shoes before," he happily replied, wiggling his legs to see how well they fit. The socks were quite warm and cushioned, but those boots... wow, he didn't feel the cold, rough ground; it was like floating.

"Less heavy and creepy than guards' boots."

His answer turned Chrystal's heart over; she still didn't ask him more about his life because she feared it was worse than she imagined. However, it was better to know soon so she could help him completely; she didn't forget when he told her that he was being chased, and even though they may not have encountered the monsters that kept him in horrible conditions, she had to know what they were up against to protect themselves in the best way because they were still children, they were only sixteen years old.

"I love them, thank you."

He looks up to look at her still with a big smile on his face. Chrystal nods and finishes paying for the clothes to leave the store and get some food before leaving again.

"I guess you've never tried a Subway before, have you?" the redhead asks, amused.

Oliver denies in response to take another bite of his huge sandwich. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

"Here, try this. I really like cakes, and strawberry is my favorite. You might like it. You're not allergic to strawberries, are you?"

Oliver denies it again, not knowing if he really was allergic or not; he didn't even know what that word meant.

In front of him appears a plate with a large piece of the cake, with a white topping of pastry cream and strawberries. Before taking a piece with his fingers, Chrystal hands him a spoon and imitates the girl's movement to taste the dessert.

Oliver's face is worthy of portraying, his eyes totally opened by the flavors inside his mouth. It was an explosion: sweet, very, very sweet, delicious. There was no other thought than keep eating the strawberry shortcake that was even better than that Subway in his head.

"It's delicious," he exclaims with pastry cream on his lips.

"I told you you'd like it," smiles the redhead, enjoying the dessert as well.

Once they finish eating and buying some more for the next few days, they finally leave the small and get on the motorcycle.

"Do you plan to carry the dog for the rest of the trip?" asked the redhead as she watched Oliver untie the dog and give him a slice of ham."

"Of course, he's my furry friend."

"I don't think a dog like that can resist the cold and the motorcycle ride," she answered with a slight grimace.

"I have plenty of room in here," he showed off his new jacket, which, being so thin, was a bit too big for him.

"You can have any dog once we're safe."

"None like him. When I found him, some kids were hurting him; they were hitting him and throwing him from one side to the other; he was helpless and hurt, he couldn't defend himself" he shook his head, looking at how the dog finished his slice "When I saw him I saw myself and decided to help him as you did me, so I can't leave him. Besides, it's the first time I've seen something like this; he's quite an interesting dog. He'll survive, and I'll introduce him to Jack and Ann; I'm sure they'll love him."

"Were you mistreated too?"

Oliver nods.

"I deserved it most of the time, but I doubt this poor creature deserved it."

This was her chance to find out a little more.

"I saw the bruises on your body; only by committing a great crime could they give you such a severe punishment. Your face looked terrible a week ago..."

Oliver's gaze returned to the floor.

"I deserved it... " the words stuck in his throat; no matter how many times he tried to say it, he couldn't; it burned his soul to admit his biggest sin. "He hates my freckles, my face in general. He has reason to punish me..."

"Who?"

Oliver bites his lower lip, closing his eyes refusing to speak anymore. He still didn't feel well enough to talk about his mother and that demon. Unlike Chrystal Daly, who wasn't running away from her past but trying to get over it, Oliver wanted to run away and try to forget everything. He thought that if he kept talking about Mr. Craig, he would summon him and take him back to prison.

Chrystal seeing how bad Oliver was getting, stops asking and walks over to him, touching his shoulder to calm him down.

"No one deserves to be treated like dirt; no matter what you've done, it's cruel. I really like your freckles."

Oliver's eyes pop open, and without thinking, he lifts his face to the light blue-eyed girl. He himself detested those freckles; his face did not leave his mother and Mr. Craig alone because of the terrible resemblance he bore to his unknown father. Of course, he didn't expect Chrystal Daly would like his freckles.

Their breaths came in rhythm; both were lost in each other. Oliver had never been so close to a girl as he was now; he was able to appreciate the features of the redhead, her huge blue eyes, her small, upturned nose, her pink lips, and to his surprise, the almost invisible freckles on the bridge of her nose. She was beautiful.

"So this is why Jack liked being so close to Annette."

Chrystal went over that young man's face over and over again; something about him appealed to her. In short, Oliver was different, and she wanted to make sure that smile stayed forever on his face.

"Well, then, if the dog is going to travel with us, he needs a name, don't you think?"

She changed the subject, thinking it was kind of strange that none of them would talk or part ways. The boy smiled again, shrugging his shoulders, being the first to retake distance.

"You'll think of something," she smiles back, getting up, "let's go; if we want to get there before the frost, we must hurry."