Crust Kids

"Why the fuck is everything damp?" Nova's voice pierced my sleep and brought me back to consciousness.
The crust holding my eyes shut gives way and finally I can peer up at her from the pile of limbs and clothes on the floor. "It's the humidity," I croak.
Her crystal blue eyes regard me for a moment, as if trying to decide if I'm lying, or know what I'm talking about at all. In her hands a big plastic bag stuffed with smelly, unwashed clothes makes a squishy sound. "We'll just have to lay them in the sun a little later so they can dry out." I explain while hiking myself up into a sitting position.
I grad my dog from under a towel and pull his soft yellow body into my lap so I can pet him and watch her work. She sorts her stuff out from everyone else's, making small comments under her breath as she works.  I kept all my stuff together last night and slept on it so I know exactly where all my belongings are. The other three traveling kids were too intoxicated last night to think that clearly though, and their "crust-as-fuck" uniforms are splayed across the tiny room, coating everything in the dank smell of body odor. 
My throat is raw and it feels like I haven't eaten in days. Nova's stomach growls loudly to tell me she feels the same way. "Do you wanna go bum downtown for some food in a bit?" I ask her.
"Lets wait for the others," she tosses over her shoulder as she makes her way to the bathroom.
I'm sick of the others, but I don't argue. Instead I grab Dude up and take him outside to piss. Dude has been my dog for the last 5 years and he follows me every where. I don't bother to put a leash or collar on him, I know he wont go more than 5 feet away from me at any given point.
I sit on the steps and listen to the birds waking up in the live oaks trees crisscrossing their limbs above of me. As proper as the southern bells who drink tea in their shade.
        I watch Dude as he waddles from one spot to another, sniffing and lifting his leg occasionally. I'm worried about taking a 7 year old Pomeranian traveling with me, but I can't imagine not taking him with me either. I know that people give hand outs more to kids hitch hiking with dogs, but what about when we're stuck in Arizona or New Mexico and he has to walk miles on end with no water? I cup his small head in my hand and look deep into his brown-black eyes. "I love you Dude, you know I'll take care of you no matter what," I whisper to him.
I talk to him like he's a human on a regular basis.
Suddenly I hear Joe rumbling down the stairs behind me and Nova's clunking boots close behind. Nova has a road dog as well, a German Shepard mix that's barely 6 months old but already weighs 50lbs at least. Joe rockets past me and flings himself into chasing a squirrel. Nova plops down beside me and laughs as Dude attempts to match Joe's long strides.
I look over at her smiling face and beam. Her black hair falls in oily waves around the collar of her jacket. It's been a mild winter here in Florida, but this morning is a bit nippy. "Do you think we should wait a bit longer, it's gonna be colder than this in other states," I wonder out loud.
She doesn't look at me, "We're leaving in about a week," she says before sticking a cigarette in her mouth.
I see her inhale nicotine more than eat most days. My stomach flutters a little at this. I'm excited to go, but nervous at the same time. Will we make it okay? Nova has only been traveling once before, up the east coast. But she always returns home. While I have never left Florida. I assume it will be just the way it is now, only with train hopping and hitch hiking. We'll still street vend and spange. I'm use to not bathing, squatting and asking for food at churches. But it wont be the same. I wont be here, in the oldest city in America. I don't know where we'll be.
I catch her starring at me and raise an eye brow, "what?"
"Nothing, you look like you're questioning it is all. Don't go if you aren't ready." She says in a matter of fact way.
She says it as if I'm deciding if I want to go to the store or not, instead of thinking about leaving the city I was born in to hitch hike across the states with a pack of lice infested roadies. "No," I tell her with confidence I don't feel, "I want to go, I'm just hungry."
She nods her head and lets her cig dangle off of her lower lip, "Go ahead and start walking downtown, I'll meet you down there in a sec. I gotta piss."
I stand up and shake out my long, tattered skirt. "Okay, I'll try to find something for us by st.George. Meet you there." I don't wait for her to respond but start walking towards the cities heart.
In a minute Dude falls into pace behind me. I look behind me to see Nova holding Joe by the scruff of the neck and leading him inside. I wave my hand and smile, she salutes me back and beams her thousand watt smile. I bask for a second in her warmth and continue on my way to find us food.
That's the last time I see her clearly. Hours later she is nothing more than a bleary dot on top of a roaring train. I run fast, Dude tucked under my arm, trying to catch up but it's pointless. She's gone, like a star blinking out in the sky.