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I don’t drink coffee.”
    “What do you like?  I have to make a store run for food,” he said sipping the hot brew.
    “I drink natural fruit juices and plenty of water. I’m not a big eater either so don’t worry about getting anything for me.”
    He raised his brow. “That explains a lot about you.”
    She frowned. “What are you surprised I didn’t ask for bacon, ribs, chicken wings or other unhealthy foods that black people are known to eat?”
    He stuttered, “I-I didn’t say that.  Why are you trying to make me out to be a racist?”
    “I’m not making you out to be anything. You are who you are. Anyhow, is there a television to watch?”
    “Sorry, no TV.”
    “What do people you stash here do for entertainment? Am I supposed sit and stare at you for that?  If that’s the case, I’ve gotten more enjoyment from watching a sock puppet show.”
    That’s it! He lost his temper and shouted. “Hey! You aren’t exactly amusing me either! So why don’t we just stay out of each other’s way.  I’ll sit on my side of the room and pretend to play a game on my phone, and you stay over there and do whatever you can find to entertain yourself.”
    She shouted back at him. “Fine! I’ll sit here and make believe to play pin the tail on the donkey.  I’ll pretend you’re the ass!  How does that suit you?”
    “You have a big fucking mouth to be so little! You need to check it,” he said storming outside.  Zach locked the door and got in the car.  Now was a good time to go shopping.  He needed to get away from her for a while.

Chapter Four
    Carla looked out the window fuming as she watched mud spit from under the tires of the old car as Zach sped off.  She ran to the backdoor yanking on the doorknob.  It wouldn’t open. “Darn it! He locked me in.” Hitching up the oversized shorts, she sat in a kitchen chair contemplating.  Even if the door wasn't locked, what would she do?  She didn’t know where she was or, have any money or the keys to her apartment if she had a way to get home.  Basically, she was stuck with an unlikable babysitter until he decided they could leave.
    Her stomach growled painfully. She rubbed it knowing that starvation would eventually win out over her being stubborn. It had been hours since her last meal, and her head was hurting to reflect that fact.  Pouting she got up and opened the fridge taking out the pot of pasta to warm on the stove.
    She looked down at herself and realized how she was dressed. Athletic but slender legs ended with bony feet.  It didn’t take much for her to drop weight. During her EMT training, she scored high marks on everything but the ability to lift objects heavier than herself.  “No wonder he made that comment about me.  I look like a sick chicken in this outfit.”
    Turning the stove on low she went to the bedroom to find something else to wear. Sitting around half-naked in front of a strange man was not an option. Looking through the closet of the second bedroom she found more women’s clothing but again the sizes were too big for her. Carla took a bright red sleeveless sundress off a hanger and held it next to her body thinking it would work and looked better than the baggy shorts and tank top.
    She took a quick bath.  She changed the bandage on her hip, combed her hair and slipped on the dress using a man’s tie as a makeshift belt to keep the dress from dragging on the floor.  Viewing her reflection in the mirror, she smiled. “Not bad. I’m covered up and it’s kinda cute,” she said twisting her body to look at herself from different angles.
    The pasta was hardly warm when Carla returned to the kitchen.  She dished out a plateful despite that.  Her stomach was protesting the lack of food and begged to be fed immediately.  She sat at the table and put the first bit into her mouth and gagged. “Oh, yuck,” she said shuddering and spitting the bland pasta in a paper towel and rinsing the taste down her throat with