“Hey, do you need a ride?” The handsome stranger asked. I looked at him, then at his humming motorcycle.

“Umm, no thanks. I don’t live anywhere anyway…” I replied, looking down in embarrassment.

“So you just live on the streets? Shit, that sucks! You look starved too." The stranger said, turning off his motorcycle.

I adjusted the small, threadbare shawl that a kind old woman gave to me about five months ago. Aside from the worn-out clothes that were on my half-starved body, that shawl was the only thing I had. “I don’t have much.” I said, looking up at him.

“I’ll say. Where are your parents? Don’t they know about you living like this?” The stranger asked, his brown eyes shining with kindness and concern.

“No. They’re… dead.” I said, pain and sorrow evident in my words.

“I'm so sorry.”

I looked up at him and smiled for the first time in about a year, when all hell broke loose in my life. “It’s ok. You didn’t know.”

He smiled back at me. “Well, if you have nowhere to go, then why don’t you come to my house and have something to eat? It’s the least I could do.”

I was hesitant about his offer at first for obvious reasons. Here in Huntington Beach, you cannot trust anyone or you might end up dead in a dumpster. However, he was different from the rest of them. There was something comforting about his eyes, his smile, and not to mention he was devastatingly handsome. For some reason, I felt like I had seen him somewhere before…

“I guess, if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you.” I said humbly, but on the inside, I was rejoicing. I had not eaten anything for about two days now, and that was a half-eaten cheeseburger from Burger King in the bottom of the dumpster. I shuddered mentally; remembering the nasty, greasy thing as I desperately devoured it.

“It’s no trouble at all!” He beamed at me. I could not help but smile back.

The stranger kick-started his engine, revved it a few times, and waited for me to get on. I thanked him once again and sat down, wrapping my arms around his torso, feeling slightly embarrassed. I looked at him and nodded, indicating that I was ready. He pushed off and drove through the somewhat condensed traffic of Huntington Beach.

“So what’s your name?” I yelled, trying to be heard above the roaring wind.

He looked back for a second and smiled. “Brian.”