Hope For Garbage by Alex Tully Read Free Book Online

was easier.
    Hey, what’s up Barbara?
    It was only a few seconds and then he heard the ‘ding-dong’ alerting him of a new text message .  Not much, u?
    Just working in the Box, he typed.
    Sounds fun.  I’d luv 2 c it
    Trevor panicked.  Bea wanted to come to his house.  She already knew he lived in Westwood with his white-trash uncle.  He had told her the truth about that.  Sooner or later, if things went the way he hoped, she would have to see where he lived.
    Screw it.  Do you want to come over?  He hit ‘send’ and held his breath.
    His phone lit up immediately.  What’s your address?  B there in 20
    After giving her the address, he ran back into the house.  Thankfully, Uncle Gary left in his truck, which probably meant he would be at the bar all day.  Trevor brushed his teeth again and checked out his face in the mirror.  No zits.  He only got zits occasionally, and luckily none today.  He had shaved this morning and no razor burn either—double bonus.  His hair was probably a little long, but there was nothing he could do about that now.  He reapplied his deodorant and checked his grey sweatshirt for stains—this was one of the few decent shirts he owned.
    He ran back to the Box and tried to stay busy, but it was pretty much impossible.  Ten minutes later he heard a car pull up into the gravel driveway.  He was nervous as hell.  His heart was racing and he had to keep wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.
    He could only imagine what Bea was thinking.  Westwood must be like a foreign country to her.  She was probably afraid to get out of the car.
    Peeking out the side window, he could see Bea walking into the backyard.  She was wearing jeans and a short white sweater.  Unlike the bulky school uniform, this outfit showed off all of her curves.  His heart lurched in his chest—what was happening to him?
    He swallowed hard, opened the door and walked out. “Hey, did you find it okay?” He tried to sound casual.
    She was about to answer him when Jip ran to her at full speed and began jumping up.
    “Jip!  Get down!  Jip…down!” he yelled at the dog.
    Bea didn’t seem to mind.  She bent down and started petting Jip on the head.  “Oh he’s so cute…he’s adorable.  I always wanted a dog, but my parents would never allow it.”  Jip immediately rolled over onto his back hoping for a belly-scratch.  Thank God for Jip; he totally broke the ice.
    “That name ’s kind of different.  Where’d you get the name Jip?” she asked.
    He could feel his face flushing, “Well, it’s kind of dumb…”
    She looked up at him smiling, “So, I want to hear it.”
    “Okay.”  He noticed big dimples in her cheeks. “You sure?”
    She nodded again showing her perfect white smile.
    “Okay.  Here goes.  Well, Abraham Lincoln had a dog named Jip.  The story is that soldiers found him in confederate territory and he was almost frozen to death.  The soldiers gave the dog to the president.”  Trevor kneeled down and started scratching Jip behind the ears.  “And Mr.T found this guy in his backyard almost frozen to death, so I thought the name fit.”  God, he sounded lame.
    “I think it definitely fits.  Who’s Mr.T?” she asked.
    Trevor must not have mentioned his seventy year old best friend, “Oh, that’s Mr.Tyminski.  He lives next door.  We hang out a lot.  He’s a real good guy.”  Then he added, “And he’s like seventy.”
    “Really?”  He could hear the surprise in her voice.
    He avoided her eyes, “I know it seems weird, but he’s really cool.  Kind of like a grandpa I never had.  You’d like him.”
    When he finally had the courage to look at her, she seemed to be studying him.  “How do you know this stuff?  I mean, like about Abraham Lincoln’s dog?”
    Trevor shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know.  I read a lot?”
    “Well, do I get to see inside the Box?” she asked, looking over his shoulder at the garage.  No one other than Mr.T had