“Do you still have the car?”
Geez, that’s what she got out of everything I just told her? Felipe was almost dumbstruck.
“Yes,” he said aloud, slightly irritated. “I park it in an inconspicuous place and try to walk as much as I can to save on gas. I was only stuck in the rain just now because I was on my way to a soup kitchen when it started pouring. And in case you’re wondering why I don’t have a job–”
“I’m not, but sure, go on.”
“–I do. I work at a fast-food place across town, but they won’t schedule me as much as I’d like. So when I’m off, getting food and a place to clean up is a bit of a challenge.”
Their server brought them their plates and Felipe felt like he could devour everything on the table, even the extra dishes Juno had ordered.
“Felipe, look,” she said as she took her plate and served herself some Manchurian noodles and green curry on the side. “I’m not judging you so you don’t have to defend yourself. You got a raw deal. All I’m trying to do is have a meal with a new friend.”
Felipe eyed Juno warily, having no idea what to make of her. She was either the most open-minded person he’d ever met, or completely bonkers.
“I was only asking you things about yourself to know more about you,” she shrugged. “I’m not going to try and give you advice like most middle-class people who think they know exactly what homeless people should be doing… despite never having been homeless themselves.” She twirled her fork around her noodles and then speared some broccoli. “Do you work anywhere else when you’re not scheduled?”
“Sort of,” Felipe replied, feeling a touch less cautious. He shoveled a couple of spoonfuls of fried rice into his mouth before continuing. “I also go on auditions and work as day crew whenever I hear of a film shoot in the area,” he said. “It’s Toronto so there’s usually something going on somewhere. Plus, I have enough money for gas and a basic phone plan.”
“It’s shitty that in a country as rich as Canada, it’s still legal to pay people so little that they can have a job but still not make rent,” Juno shook her head. “If a job is worth staffing, it’s worth paying people enough to live on.”
“What are you, anyway, some kind of activist?” Felipe finally asked her, curious as to what made this fiery girl tick. His stomach had finally stopped rumbling and he realized some of his earlier annoyance at her was just him being hangry.
“Uh, well, I’m a humanities major in university, so it’s kind of a requirement,” she smiled. “No, I don’t go to marches or organize petitions or anything. I just think it makes sense to help in the moment you see shit happen instead of thinking back later and wishing you had.”
She focused on her plate while eating, oblivious to Felipe’s stares, but making light conversation throughout the meal. When they later walked out the door holding a doggie bag, Felipe smirked to himself as Juno gave their surly hostess an exaggerated wink.
“Which way’s your car?” she asked them as they stepped into the humid air from Lake Ontario that washed over the city. Felipe pointed westward. “Perfect,” she said. “That’s the direction my gym is in.” It turned out they hit Felipe’s parking spot before Juno’s gym, where she instructed him to get a change of clothes and any toiletries he needed.
“Hi, Cyrus,” she greeted the man at the gym’s front desk as she rummaged around in her purse for her membership. “This is my friend Felipe and he’s my guest today.”
“Ms. Ngam, your guests are always welcome here,” Cyrus warmly told her. Felipe’s face was a huge question mark throughout.
“If you have any spare cash,” she explained as they entered the facilities, “a gym membership is a valuable asset if you’re strapped for a place to live. It’s not only a place you can hang out if there’s bad weather or something; the hot showers alone are worth it.”
An hour later, Felipe was showered, shaven, changed, and grateful.
“You’re an angel,” he told Juno as they were leaving. “I’m really sorry about my rudeness when we first met… it’s just–” Juno held out her hand to stop him.
“Like I said earlier, you don’t have to explain yourself to me or anyone else. And believe me, I’m no angel.”
“There’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise,” Felipe replied. He watched Juno as she splashed in the little puddles that had formed on the sidewalk as they made their way back toward his car. Then she looked at him with a heaviness in her eyes.
“You know the sugary milk at the bottom of the cereal bowl?” she said. “I add black coffee to that and drink it, and it’s amazing. And you will pry my maple-tasting, coffee-flavoured-milk from my cold, dead hands.”
Felipe grinned, wondering if she was ever serious about anything. He then stopped himself from wondering if she had a boyfriend. Not in this life, he thought ruefully, watching her satiny black hair flip in the wind. Maybe not even in the next one. Finally, they reached his car and Juno opened up her purse.
“Hey, I know I just met you and this is crazy,” she said, scribbling something on a sticky note, “but here’s my number so call me maybe.” Felipe started chuckling. “If you need anything,” she added with a smile.
“I don’t normally give out my contact info, but you seem like a decent guy. So I’m gonna go against all the safety rules for girls that my parents beat into me since birth.”
“I’m not sure there’s any way I can thank you for today,” Felipe said quietly.
“You’re not going to be in this spot forever, Felipe,” Juno told him, lightly touching his arm. “Just promise me that when you’re back on your feet, you’ll use whatever power you have to help the folks who need it. Okay?”
She gave him one last brilliant smile as she turned to walk back up the street, and Felipe followed her hibiscus patterned sundress with his eyes until she finally disappeared around a corner. He quickly entered her number into his phone, then tucked the sticky note into his wallet.
One day when I can deserve you, he promised himself. One day.
***Twelve years later***
“Cut! Okay, that’s enough, Carter.” It was what Felipe had been waiting to hear from his director for about an hour, and he immediately set down the prop sword he’d been holding. This was thankfully the last scene he had to film that day, because he badly needed to sleep. But circumstances weren’t so kind.
“Carter,” his assistant, Tameka, stepped forward just as he was walking off set, dying to change out of his gladiator costume. “Sorry, just one more thing and then I’ll let you go home.”
“I’ll cut you a deal,” he told her, slinging a massive, muscled arm around her shoulder. “If it’s something I can pretend I’m sick for, do it. In return, I’ll pay for Rahim’s college.” He reached into the jute bag she was holding for him and fished out his pack of smokes.
“You’re already paying for Rahim’s college,” she countered, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. “This is much simpler–it’s an interview with E Now.” Felipe rolled his eyes and tried to get his cig back but Tameka yanked it away.
“I’ll cut you a deal,” she said. “Quit smoking right now and I’ll tell the reporter you’re sick.” Felipe sighed.